80

The room was steeped in tense silence, every flicker of candlelight casting long, restless shadows on the walls. Everyone sat around the large, worn table in the living room of Burrow . their expressions ranging from curiosity to concern. On one side sat Jason, the centre of attention yet maintaining a detached demeanour, like a soldier fresh from battle but not yet ready to tell the tale.

Harry leaned forward, breaking the silence.

Harry: "So, where have you been, Jason? Vanished off the face of the earth."

Jason : "Training."

Sirius raised an eyebrow, his trademark smirk absent for once.

Sirius: "Training? That's all you've got to say? While you've been off doing Merlin-knows-what, Harry and the rest of us have been worried sick about you!"

Jason, his voice unwavering, repeated:

Jason: "Training."

Sirius pinched the bridge of his nose, exhaling in exasperation.

Sirius: "Oh, don't give me that one-word rubbish. Properly, Jason! What's all this training nonsense about?"

Jason shrugged, his tone now tinged with weariness.

Jason: "What else can I say? That's exactly what I've been doing. Needed to take my mind off... things."

Mad-Eye Moody's magical eye whirled ominously, fixing on Jason.

Moody: "Boy, how in Merlin's name did you escape when the Dark Lord attacked your house? That's no small feat."

Jason leaned back slightly, his expression unchanging.

Jason: "Gran had an illegal Portkey in the house. She made me use it. Only problem—it could only take one person at a time."

Hermione, her brow furrowed with worry , slid closer to Jason and grasped his hand .

Hermione: "Jason... i am here."

Lupin, ever calm but now with a note of urgency, leaned forward.

Lupin: "And yet, you've been casting magic—how? You had no—"

Jason cut across him, a faint smirk tugging at his lips.

Jason: "Wand? Is that what you were going to say?"

His gaze swept the room, meeting their curious and puzzled eyes. Then, with a flick of his wrist, Jason summoned a grimoire—a thick, ancient tome—materialising it seemingly from thin air. The room fell utterly silent as the book hovered momentarily before settling into his hands.

Jason: "This is an artifactual grimoire. One of its kind. You can't just pick it up at Flourish and Blotts, I'll have you know. It requires a ritual to bind your life to it. A bit of an upgrade, if you will."

Molly Weasley's face paled, her motherly instincts kicking in.

Molly: "Jason, that's incredibly dangerous! You could've been—oh, heavens—you could've been hurt!"

Jason glanced at her, his expression softening momentarily.

Jason: "I already am, Aunt Molly. But I'm still standing."

He dismissed the grimoire, and it vanished as quickly as it had appeared. The room was thick with an uneasy silence until Jason straightened and spoke with new determination.

Jason: "Now, everyone, listen to me. I know how to defeat Voldemort."

The words landed like a thunderclap. Moody's good eye narrowed.

Moody: "Do you now? That's a bold claim, boy."

Ron, wide-eyed and already looking halfway to panic, blurted out:

Ron: "Wait—are you talking about Horcruxes?"

Jason nodded, his expression sharp.

Jason: "Don't forget—I was the first to find one."

Harry, who had been uncharacteristically quiet until now, leaned forward, his voice tinged with both hope and disbelief.

Harry: "Dumbledore said you might have an idea... but he wasn't sure, you know it was his."

Jason: "I need to talk—especially you, Harry."

The group exchanged uneasy glances, but all eyes were back on Jason.

Jason: "There's a reason why you can read Voldemort's thoughts and hear his dreams."

The tension in the room grew palpable. Confusion flashed across everyone's faces, but Hermione remained conspicuously silent, her hand tightening around Jason's.

Jason tilted his head towards her.

Jason: "Hermione"

Hermione hesitated before taking a deep breath. Her voice was steady, but her eyes betrayed her unease.

Hermione: "It's because Harry is... he's also a Horcrux."

The room exploded into chaos. Gasps, protests, and cries of disbelief filled the air. Sirius shot to his feet, knocking over his chair.

Sirius: "What? That's impossible! No—surely not—"

Harry looked as though the floor had given way beneath him, his face pale and stricken.

Harry: "I... I'm what?"

Jason held up his hands for calm, his voice cutting through the noise like a blade.

Jason: "Everyone, don't panic! I have a solution."

Sirius turned to him, his voice desperate.

Sirius: "Tell me, Jason—tell me what to do. I'll do anything to fix this."

Jason nodded, his voice firm.

Jason: "Harry needs to undergo a purification ritual. It's the only way to sever Voldemort's soul from his. And it has to be done on Harry's birthday, when he matures at midnight."

Sirius paled.

Sirius: "That's tomorrow."

Jason: "Exactly. So you'd better prepare yourselves, because once the clock strikes twelve, we'll be on the clock. After that, we'll have to hunt down every Horcrux—and destroy them all."

The weight of his words settled over the room like a storm cloud, and no one dared speak. Harry sat in stunned silence, Hermione clutching his hand now, as if to anchor him to reality. The battle ahead seemed insurmountable, but Jason's determination lit a small spark of hope in their hearts

The night air was heavy with anticipation, the faint hum of magic vibrating through the surrounding. The clock ticked ominously, its hands inching closer to midnight. Tonight was not just any night—it was Harry's 17th birthday, a coming-of-age that held far more significance than cakes and candles.

In the centre of the dimly lit room stood Jason, surrounded by an intricate array of glowing runes carved into the stone floor. Candles burned at the edges of the circle, their flames flickering unnaturally, casting shadows that danced like restless spirits. A gem, smooth and polished like a shard of crystallised moonlight, rested on a pedestal before him, pulsating faintly with an ethereal glow.

Harry sat in the centre of the ritual circle, his face pale but resolute. Hermione knelt beside him, gripping his hand tightly as if her sheer willpower could hold him steady. Sirius hovered nearby, fidgeting nervously, his wand clutched tightly in his hand.

"Bloody hell, this looks like something out of one of those dark magic books Mum told us never to touch," Ron muttered, earning a sharp glare from Hermione.

"Ron, if you don't have anything useful to say, kindly keep quiet!" she hissed.

Jason, standing at the edge of the circle, was utterly focused, his eyes glowing faintly with power. His hands moved in precise gestures, tracing patterns in the air that left shimmering trails of light.

"Everyone, silence," Jason commanded, his voice calm but edged with authority. "This is delicate work, and distractions could cost us everything."

The air grew colder, and from the shadows, a unicorn stepped gracefully into the room. Its silver coat gleamed like starlight, its large, intelligent eyes fixed on Harry. The room collectively held its breath.

"It's the unicorn," Harry whispered, recognition flashing across his face. 

Jason "The one whose father you save from pain in the Forbidden Forest."

The unicorn approached the edge of the circle, lowering its head in a gesture of profound trust. Jason stepped forward, his movements reverent, and placed a golden chalice beneath the unicorn's neck. With a soft hum, the unicorn pricked itself on a ceremonial blade Jason had prepared, allowing a few drops of its luminous blood to fall into the chalice.

Hermione gasped, her voice barely above a whisper. "It's giving its blood willingly. ."

Jason nodded without looking up. "Unicorns rarely offer their blood, but this one knows the stakes. Without it, this ritual is impossible."

The chalice began to glow, the silver liquid swirling with radiant energy. Jason took it and poured it into a shallow basin at Harry's feet, where it mixed with the glowing runes. The symbols flared brighter, bathing the room in a harsh, almost blinding light.

And then, a sharp cry pierced the air. A phoenix materialised in a burst of golden flames, its majestic wings spread wide. Fawkes had arrived, his crimson and gold plumage shimmering in the magical light.

"Fawkes!" Harry exclaimed, relief breaking through his fear.

The phoenix soared gracefully to Jason's side, landing on his outstretched arm. Jason murmured something in a language none of them recognised, and Fawkes extended a single tail feather, which Jason plucked carefully. He placed the feather into the basin, where it disintegrated into a burst of golden sparks, merging seamlessly with the swirling magic.

"Perfect timing," Jason said, a rare hint of humour in his tone. "This wouldn't work without you, fawkes."

Fawkes let out a soothing trill, his song washing over the room, calming frayed nerves.

The ritual progressed, the runes now pulsating in synchrony with Harry's heartbeat. Jason's voice rose as he chanted, the words ancient and powerful, each syllable resonating in the very air. The gem on the pedestal began to vibrate, a dark shadow swirling within it, coalescing into a form that sent shivers down everyone's spines.

"Is that—?" Ron began, but Hermione shushed him.

Jason's face was set in grim determination, beads of sweat forming on his brow. "Stay focused, Harry. We're almost there."

But just as the ritual neared completion, the air in the room turned heavy, oppressive. The runes flickered erratically, and the light in the gem grew darker, its energy destabilising.

"Jason, what's happening?" Hermione cried, panic creeping into her voice.

Jason gritted his teeth. 

The room trembled as cracks began to form in the ritual circle, the glowing runes sputtering like a flame about to go out. Jason stepped forward, placing his hands directly onto the circle.

"Jason, don't!" Harry shouted, but Jason ignored him.

With a roar of effort, Jason channelled his energy into the ritual, his body radiating with power. The room was consumed by a blinding light, and just as the ritual seemed to stabilise, Jason's form began to waver, like a mirage in a heatwave.

Jason blinked as the world around him warped and shifted, the remnants of the ritual fading into a kaleidoscope of swirling colours. When the light settled, he found himself standing on a surreal plane—an endless expanse of shimmering, shifting hues. Before him stood a figure draped in countless colours, their robes rippling and changing like living tapestries. The air hummed with an otherworldly presence, the weight of existence itself pressing down on Jason.

The figure's voice echoed, layered and resonant, as though a thousand voices spoke in unison.

Fate: "You are meddling in plans far beyond your understanding, boy."

Jason's brow furrowed, but he didn't flinch.

Jason: "And you are...?"

The figure straightened, its many-coloured form seeming to grow taller, grander, and infinitely more imposing.

Fate: "I am Fate. The threads of destiny, the weaver of all outcomes. I am what binds all things, from the stars in the heavens to the smallest grain of sand."

Jason tilted his head, his tone edged with scepticism.

Jason: "Fate, huh? Is that what brought me here because of what I've been doing with Harry?"

Fate's form shimmered, its voice laced with admonishment.

Fate: "Yes. Your actions ripple through the tapestry of destiny, threatening to unravel prophecies woven long before your time. Your interference could destroy what was foretold."

Jason crossed his arms, a wry smirk tugging at his lips despite the gravity of the situation.

Jason: "Let me guess. You're worried about the prophecy. The one that says..."

He cleared his throat and recited with a mocking edge:

Jason: "The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches... Born to those who have thrice defied him, born as the seventh month dies... and the Dark Lord will mark him as his equal, but he will have power the Dark Lord knows not... either must die at the hand of the other, for neither can live while the other survives."

Jason's smirk widened.

Jason: "So as long as Harry's the one to finish the job, I can do whatever I want, right? No harm, no foul?"

Fate's many voices layered into a cold warning.

Fate: "Do not mock destiny. Your reckless tampering skews the balance. For disturbing what must come to pass, there is always a price."

Jason raised an eyebrow, his smirk faltering.

Jason: "A price? What are you on about?"

Fate extended a shimmering hand, pointing at Jason.

Fate: "Payment. For your interference, I demand what ties you to your meddling: the system you call the Gacha. Hand it over."

Jason recoiled slightly, instinctively clutching at his chest. 

Jason: "You want that? "

He hesitated, his hand moving to comply, when the very fabric of space behind him tore apart with a violent crack. A blinding blue light filled the void as a figure stepped through, his signature swagger and overwhelming presence impossible to miss.

Gojo: "Yo, yo! What's all this, then?"

Fate groaned, slapping a hand to his forehead.

Fate: "Oh, Gojo. Couldn't you knock first?"

Gojo grinned, his blindfold giving him an almost comical air of confidence.

Gojo: "Knock? Please. Jason, don't ignore me and dont act like you don't need me. Look at you—getting smacked around by Fate of all things. Pathetic. What is this, your Third time losing? You're like a poorly written protagonist."

Jason : " First i am shocked " 

Jason's face turned ashen, his fists clenching.

Jason: "Second I didn't lose—"

Gojo: "—You were about to hand over your Gacha. Admit it, you're lucky I even showed up."

Fate turned its many-coloured gaze on Gojo, its aura sharp and oppressive.

Fate: "You. You, too, meddle in threads not meant to be touched. This system he uses disrupts the flow of destiny. It must be removed."

Gojo tilted his head, his grin widening.

Gojo: "And what do you plan to do about it, eh? Want me to murder you? Because I could, you know. You're not exactly the boss of me."

Fate faltered for a moment, struck silent by the sheer audacity. Its swirling form seemed to flicker, uncertain how to respond.

Jason groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose.

Jason: "I want your help but Why are you like this, Gojo?"

Gojo: "Because it's fun. Now, if you don't mind—"

He waved a hand, and the Gacha system materialised in the air between them. Gojo snatched it up with exaggerated flair.

Gojo: "I'll be taking this back. Can't have you giving it away to some glorified blanket."

Jason: "Oi, that's mine!"

Gojo ignored him, turning to Fate with a casual shrug.

Gojo: "Here's the deal, rainbow robes. You leave Jason alone, and in return, we'll make sure he doesn't muck up your precious prophecy again. Deal?"

Fate's voice wavered with frustration.

Fate: "You overstep, but very well. If he does not interfere again, I shall not move against him."

Jason scowled, his voice cracking with pent-up anger.

Jason: "Wait. So it wasn't just the Dark Lord that cost me my gran, was it? It was you, wasn't it, Fate?"

Fate said nothing, its form flickering like a dying flame. Gojo chuckled, ruffling Jason's hair with a grin.

Gojo: "Nah, mate. That was all on you. Weak, inexperienced, and out of your depth. Lucky for you, I'm here to babysit."

Jason's jaw clenched, his fists trembling with barely contained rage.

Gojo: "Now, off you go. Back to your little hero game. I'll keep an eye on things from here."

With a flick of his wrist, Gojo sent Jason hurtling back through a portal, the surreal world of Fate dissolving around him.

As Jason disappeared, Fate turned to Gojo, its voice quiet but seething.

Fate: "You risk much, Satoru Gojo."

Gojo smirked, his hands in his pockets.

Gojo: "Yeah, yeah. Fate, destiny, blah blah blah. You'll get over yourself."

The colourful figure flickered once more, and then, like a forgotten whisper, it was gone.

Jason stood motionless, his outstretched hand trembling slightly as he lifted it from the glowing circle. The air was thick with the remnants of the ritual's magic, heavy and pulsating. For one agonising moment, it felt as though time itself held its breath. Everything was unnervingly still, frozen in an unnatural stasis. Then, all at once, the world resumed its motion—the flickering flames on the candles reignited, the faint hum of magic subsided, and the room exhaled.

At the heart of the circle, the ritual was complete. Suspended within the gem, now resting on the pedestal, was a shadowy figure—a swirling, dark mass that pulsed ominously. It moved as though alive, its edges twisting and shifting, but it was confined, trapped. The Horcrux was contained.

Jason's shoulders sagged as the enormity of what had just transpired hit him. His mind raced with conflicting thoughts—relief, exhaustion, and the distant, gnawing worry of what this success would demand of them next. He took a deep breath and finally spoke, his voice hoarse but steady.

Jason: "It's... it's successful."

The room erupted with a mixture of reactions. Sirius let out a loud whoop, throwing his arms around Harry, nearly lifting him off his feet in a bear hug.

Sirius: "We did it, Harry! You're free of it!"

Ron, uncharacteristically teary-eyed, joined the hug, clapping Harry on the back.

Ron: "Blimey, mate, you're actually free. That thing's been haunting you for years!"

Harry, though still pale and shaken, managed a small smile, his green eyes shimmering with emotion.

Harry: "Yeah... it's gone. Really gone."

Meanwhile, Hermione rushed over to Jason, her face a mixture of concern and admiration. She stopped just short of him, her eyes scanning his face as though searching for signs of injury.

Hermione: "Jason, are you all right? You look awful—"

Jason raised a hand to stop her, his lips curving into a faint smile despite the exhaustion etched into his features.

Jason: "Cheers, Hermione. Always knew how to boost a bloke's confidence."

Hermione frowned, folding her arms.

Hermione: "I'm serious! That ritual—it took a lot out of you, didn't it?"

Jason gave her a tired nod.

Jason: "Yeah, well... that's the price of dealing with soul magic, isn't it? But it's done. That's what matters."

Sirius turned, still grinning, and clapped his hands together.

Sirius: "Right, then! Enough brooding for one night. Let's head to the Burrow—celebrate properly with Molly's cooking and a decent bottle of firewhisky."

Ron perked up at the mention of food, his stomach growling audibly.

Ron: "Best idea you've had all week."

Harry turned to Jason, stepping forward with a look of genuine gratitude.

Harry: "Jason... thank you. For everything. I mean it."

Jason waved him off with an almost dismissive gesture, though there was a flicker of something soft in his expression.

Jason: "Don't thank me yet, Harry. There's still work to do."

He reached into the circle and carefully lifted the gem, holding it up so that everyone could see the shadowy figure twisting inside. For a moment, the room fell silent, a collective sense of awe and dread filling the air.

Jason handed the gem to Harry, meeting his gaze with a seriousness that left no room for argument.

Jason: "This is yours to deal with, Harry. You're the one who has to finish this. I'll tell you how to destroy it later, but for now, keep it safe. And for Merlin's sake, don't drop it."

Harry accepted the gem with a nod, his hand trembling slightly as he took it.

Harry: "I'll do it. I promise. but i lost my wand in ritual"

Jason : " dont worry i would get you new one "

The group began to gather their things, the tension in the room slowly giving way to a tentative sense of relief. Hermione stayed by Jason's side, watching him closely as they prepared to leave.

Hermione: "You know, Jason, you could let someone look after you for once. You don't have to carry everything on your own."

Jason glanced at her, his smirk returning, though it didn't quite reach his eyes.

Jason: "How about you ?."

Hermione : " you don't have to ask "

As they stepped out into the cool night air, heading towards the Burrow, the stars above seemed just a little brighter, the weight of the battle ahead tempered by the smallest glimmer of hope. For tonight, at least, they had won a victory.