Order of the Phoenix: You Got Kidnapped, Robbed a Supermarket, and Fought a Drag Queen with a Wand? Final Part

Harry leaned forward, elbows on the table, his eyes scanning the Great Hall like he was still half-expecting the Miami PD to burst through the doors. “So yeah. We used Nox. Dropped the lights.”

“You should’ve seen their faces,” Daphne added, her tone dry but just shy of smug. “Total confusion. We were out the door before anyone even had a chance to shout.”

Hermione gasped. “You used magic—in a police station?”

“Yeah,” Harry said. “Bit late to be subtle, considering we’d already been arrested, interrogated, and nearly processed into the system. Again.”

“We didn’t have wands at that point,” Daphne clarified. “We’d stashed them earlier just in case things went sideways. But that spell? Muscle memory. Instinct.”

“Whole precinct went dark,” Harry said. “We slipped down the corridor, dodged past some shouting officers, and made for Caine’s office.”

Ron looked sceptical. “You broke into the bloke’s office?”

“Technically we broke out of it,” Daphne corrected.

“Window was open,” Harry said. “Two floors up, mind you. But we didn’t have time to argue logistics.”

“I told him to jump first,” Daphne said. “He thought I was joking.”

“I was hoping you were joking,” Harry muttered.

“But he jumped.”

“I fell with intent,” Harry deadpanned. “There’s a difference.”

Across the room, Calleigh exchanged a glance with Caine, her arms crossed tightly.

“We ran straight to the office the second the lights went out,” she said, addressing the Hall now. “Flashlights. Standard protocol. I thought maybe they’d panicked. Tried to hide.”

“But the room was empty,” Caine said. His voice was calm, even. But there was a flicker in his eyes—sharp, calculating. “Chairs empty. Window wide open. No sign of a climb. No crash. Nothing.”

“Just wind,” Calleigh added. “A breeze. Ruffling the papers on the desk. Like they’d... dissolved.”

“We didn’t dissolve,” Daphne said, clearly offended. “We just dropped two stories and landed like professionals.”

“You faceplanted,” Harry said helpfully.

“I landed on your face. That doesn’t count.”

There were stifled giggles around the Hall.

“Look,” Harry said, trying to refocus, “we didn’t have a plan after that. Just—get out, keep moving. And it worked. No alarms, no chase.”

“We were blocks away before the precinct even started reacting,” Daphne added. “Slipped into the night like ghosts.”

“You used magic,” Hermione said again, still stuck on the audacity of it. “In front of—”

“They didn’t see how we did it,” Harry interrupted. “They just saw the lights cut out and the window open.”

“But they knew,” Daphne said, glancing toward Caine and Calleigh. “Not the details. But enough to realise we weren’t normal kids.”

Caine nodded slowly. “We’d seen things before. Trauma cases. Runaways. Kids in real trouble. But you two...” He exhaled slowly. “You didn’t act like victims. You acted like soldiers on the run.”

“And when you vanished out of a second-story window, without so much as a footstep?” Calleigh said. “Yeah. We knew.”

“You didn’t report us,” Daphne said, watching them carefully. “Why?”

Caine met her gaze. “Because you weren’t a threat. You were scared. Smart. And whatever you were running from... it scared you more than anything we could imagine.”

“We’ve seen the dark side of human nature,” Calleigh said. “But whatever this was? It didn’t feel like crime. It felt like survival.”

Harry swallowed. “It was.”

Daphne nodded, quieter now. “And that’s when we knew... we couldn’t hide in the Muggle world anymore.”

“We had to find MACUSA,” Harry said. “Find the magical side of America. Even if they didn’t want us.”

“Especially if they didn’t want us,” Daphne said. “Because by then, it wasn’t about help anymore.”

“It was about finishing what Lucius started,” Harry said, eyes darkening. “And making sure no one else got caught in it.”

A hush fell over the Hall.

For the first time in the entire debrief, no one asked a single question.

Harry leaned back in his seat, the firelight casting shadows under his eyes. “We didn’t exactly have time to enjoy our dramatic escape from the police station,” he said, glancing around the Great Hall. “It was pitch black outside, but we knew we couldn’t just walk down the main roads. Cameras, police, Muggle security… it was a miracle we’d made it out at all.”

Daphne nodded. “We stuck to the alleys. Back ways. Any route that felt off-grid. It was like moving through the ribs of some great machine that wanted to grind us down.”

“We were wired,” Harry admitted. “Exhausted but still running on adrenaline. It didn’t even feel real.”

“That city was watching us,” Daphne said quietly. “Even when we were alone.”

A few students shifted uncomfortably.

“We needed a plan,” Harry went on. “Somewhere to disappear. Hide. Regroup. But there’s only so far you can get on foot in a city like Miami.”

“Then,” Daphne said, “we saw headlights. A fuel station, out of the way. Looked quiet. One bloke, standing beside a car, checking his phone.”

“Could’ve been a trap,” Harry added. “Could’ve been nothing. But we were desperate.”

“So we approached him,” Daphne said, her voice tight. “Tried to look less like we’d just broken out of a heavily guarded police station and more like... I don’t know. Lost tourists?”

“He asked if we were okay,” Harry said. “Said the power had gone out across the area—thought it was just some weird blackout.”

“I asked if he was heading out of the city,” Harry added. “Didn’t expect anything, but he didn’t shut us down. Said he was going to Homestead.”

“It was the first lucky break we’d had in hours,” Daphne said. “Homestead meant the Everglades were within reach.”

“And hiding in a swamp,” Harry said, “sounded a lot more appealing than another arrest.”

“So we asked for a ride,” Daphne said. “He hesitated—naturally—but he said yes.”

“He let us in,” Harry said. “No questions. No suspicion. Just... kindness.”

“You ever notice,” Daphne muttered, “the most helpful Muggles never ask the wrong questions?”

Ron looked completely bewildered. “You got in a car with a stranger? Just like that?”

“We’d been in worse company,” Harry replied dryly.

“And his car had air con,” Daphne added. “Which, after sweating through two hours of running, made him our new best friend.”

The room chuckled.

“He drove us to a diner,” Harry continued. “Said we should eat. We declined.”

“He didn’t push it,” Daphne said. “Just pointed us toward the Everglades entrance. Showed us which way to walk.”

“We said thank you,” Harry said. “Then we left.”

“It was early morning by then,” Daphne added. “Town was quiet. Shops shuttered. No one really paying attention to us.”

“We walked,” Harry said. “Through the town. Toward the wilderness.”

“And we found it,” Daphne said, a strange note in her voice. “The Everglades. A wall of trees, water, and sky.”

“I’ve never been so relieved to see a bloody swamp,” Harry said.

“A sign said ‘Everglades National Park’,” Daphne added. “Might as well have said ‘Sanctuary’. We crossed a small bridge, stepped into the trees, and—”

“We thought we were safe,” Harry said.

Calleigh’s voice cut gently across the Hall. “But you weren’t.”

Harry’s jaw tensed. “No.”

“Lucius had followed us,” Daphne said, her voice low and bitter. “We didn’t know it then, but... he’d been tracking us since New York.”

“He was watching,” Harry added. “Waiting. Like a predator.”

The silence that followed was heavy, stifling.

“And we’d walked right into his hunting ground,” Daphne finished.

Caine stood by the enchanted fireplace at the side of the Great Hall, his posture rigid, arms crossed loosely over his chest. The glow of the fire lit the sharp lines of his face as Hogwarts’ most curious eyes remained fixed on him.

“We started digging the moment they vanished,” he said, his voice low and even. “Duquesne and I reviewed the CCTV. You’d think two kids slipping out of a locked interrogation room would leave something. A footprint. A fingerprint. Hell, even a smudge. But there was... nothing.”

Calleigh, who stood beside him, chimed in with a half-amused shake of her head. “We checked everything. Security logs. Electrical systems. Not so much as a flicker in the power grid to explain the blackout. No trace of how the lights went out. No trace of them. I’ve seen suspects disappear, but not like that.”

Hermione was hanging on every word, furiously scribbling notes, while Ron looked at Caine like he wasn’t entirely sure whether to be impressed or unnerved.

“We thought it was an inside job,” Caine continued. “Someone helping them. Some kind of coordinated escape.”

“But then we found the window,” Calleigh added. “Wide open. And the two-story drop below it? Untouched.”

Harry and Daphne exchanged a look across the room. Harry raised his brows slightly, as if to say not bad for a guess.

“We thought maybe someone picked them up,” Caine went on. “So we pulled up the security footage from outside the station.”

“A man in a luxury sedan,” Calleigh said. “Bit cliché, really. But there he was. They talked. Got in. Drove off.”

“Couldn’t get a clear shot of the plate,” Caine admitted. “But we followed what we could through the city’s traffic cameras. The car dipped off our grid around Biscayne, headed south.”

“Where we lost them,” Calleigh said. “Completely.”

McGonagall’s expression was unreadable. Snape, from his usual brooding perch, looked like he’d just sucked a lemon.

“But we got lucky,” Caine said. “One of our techs pulled a partial match on the car’s make and model. Flagged on the I-95, heading toward Homestead.”

A quiet gasp from Neville.

“So we called the local PD,” Calleigh explained. “Asked for footage. Anything.”

“And they found it,” Caine said. “The car turned up again near a diner. The driver, a Rodney Jones, confirmed he picked them up and dropped them near the Everglades.”

At the name, Daphne smirked faintly. “Rodney. He was sweet. Completely clueless, but sweet.”

“We flew down to Homestead ourselves,” Calleigh said, ignoring the interruption with the ease of a seasoned detective. “Met the guy. Real salt-of-the-earth type. Said you two were polite. A little skittish. Didn’t ask questions.”

“He said you wanted to disappear,” Caine said, eyes narrowing slightly. “Said the Everglades seemed like the place you’d go if you wanted to vanish for good.”

“Yeah,” Harry muttered. “That was the idea.”

Caine studied him for a beat longer, then looked out across the room. “You weren’t just scared. You were calculating. Tactical. You knew what you were doing.”

“No,” Daphne said, shaking her head. “We were winging it.”

“Maybe,” Calleigh said, “but you did it well enough to evade every single system we had in place. And we’re not amateurs.”

There was a pause before Luna, of all people, piped up, “They say the Everglades eat secrets. Swallow them whole.”

The room was silent for a moment.

“Sometimes,” Caine said slowly, “I think they’re still out there. Pieces of them. A boot print here. A broken branch there. But we never found them.”

“And that,” Calleigh added, “was when we knew we weren’t dealing with just runaways.”

McGonagall finally spoke, her voice cool and crisp. “And yet, you helped them.”

“We could’ve chased them,” Caine said. “Could’ve brought them in. Put out a national alert. But something told me that wasn’t the right play.”

“You trusted them,” Daphne said.

“No,” Caine replied. “I believed them.”

Daphne crossed her arms as Caine finished recounting the conversation with Rodney Jones. Her expression was unreadable, but Harry could feel the tension in her shoulders from where he sat beside her.

“They didn’t press him,” she said quietly, almost to herself.

“Didn’t need to,” Caine replied. “He didn’t know anything that would’ve helped us find you. Just that you were two tired kids who wanted to get out of town without asking too many questions.”

Calleigh stepped forward slightly. “We could tell there was more going on,” she said, scanning the rows of Hogwarts students now hanging on their every word. “Something about your escape… the way the power cut, the lack of prints, the sheer absence of any trace. It didn’t feel right.”

“Yeah, well,” Daphne muttered, “that’s kind of the theme of our lives.”

“We left Rodney’s shop knowing we weren’t chasing delinquents anymore,” Caine said. “You’d vanished from a locked room with no evidence of entry or exit. And now you were wandering into one of the most dangerous ecosystems in America, with someone on your tail we didn’t even know existed yet.”

“And that,” Calleigh added, “was before we knew what magic was.”

A wave of murmurs rippled across the Hall. The idea of trained detectives, logical thinkers, saying the word “magic” with conviction seemed to rattle a few Gryffindors and send at least three Ravenclaws into stunned silence.

“We went back to the Homestead precinct,” Caine said, nodding to Amelia Bones at the head table. “Coordinated with Chief Burke. Set up a search grid. His team were the best we had—rangers, swamp trackers, ex-military.”

“Good people,” Calleigh added. “But they weren’t prepared.”

“Because we weren’t just looking for kids,” Caine said flatly. “We were looking for ghosts.”

Harry looked down at the table in front of him, fingers tapping in a rhythm he didn’t notice.

“We combed through the area,” Caine continued. “Drones, dogs, heat scans. Nothing.”

“Not even a gum wrapper,” Calleigh said. “It was like they’d walked into the swamp and the swamp swallowed them whole.”

“They didn’t,” Ron muttered under his breath. “They teleported.”

Caine ignored the comment.

“But there was something worse than not finding you,” he said. “It was knowing someone else might have.”

Daphne’s expression didn’t change, but the temperature around her seemed to drop a degree.

“Lucius Malfoy,” Harry said quietly.

“Yeah,” Caine replied. “The name didn’t mean anything to us then. But we felt it. That there was a third player in this story.”

“We’d started as cops,” Calleigh said, her voice softer now. “Trying to figure out what two kids were running from.”

“But by the time the sun went down over that swamp,” Caine said, his tone grim, “we weren’t chasing suspects anymore.”

“We were chasing survivors.”

The Great Hall was quiet now, all chatter drowned in the hush that followed Daphne’s final words. Rain lashed at the stained-glass windows outside, the storm outside mirroring the one they’d just described. Most of the students looked spellbound, their food forgotten, their attention rapt.

“It was like walking into a story we weren’t meant to survive,” Harry said softly, staring into the middle distance as if the scent of damp earth still clung to his robes. “We thought the Everglades would hide us. But hiding and surviving… those aren’t always the same thing.”

Daphne nodded. “We were exhausted, starving, soaking wet, and we still didn’t sleep. That swamp didn’t feel natural. Not just because it was dangerous—it was watching us. Something out there knew we didn’t belong.”

From the Ravenclaw table, someone whispered, “Magical creatures?” Hermione looked like she might explode.

Daphne caught the tone and turned toward the voice. “Not the kind you read about in Fantastic Beasts,” she said dryly. “These weren’t categorised. They weren’t friendly. They weren’t unfriendly either. They were... ancient. Wild. They weren’t interested in humans.”

“Except to eat them,” Harry muttered.

Calleigh, standing near the professors’ table with Caine, let out a soft whistle under her breath. “Jesus. You two were lucky not to vanish without a trace.”

“We very nearly did,” Harry said. “The fire was the only thing keeping us grounded. Not warm, not safe—just... grounded. Everything out there blurred at the edges. Like the swamp was alive, trying to pull us under.”

Several students shifted uncomfortably.

“And the noises,” Daphne added, her tone hard. “Twigs snapping when we weren’t moving. Something watching. Following. Not Death Eaters—something else. Something older.”

“Did you ever see it?” asked Seamus.

“No,” Harry said. “But we felt it. Every time we stopped walking.”

“And then the storm hit,” Daphne continued, her arms wrapped tight across her chest, not for warmth, but as if remembering the feeling of it. “Thunder like it was tearing the sky in half. The whole place lit up in flashes like strobe lights. And every time it did... we caught glimpses.”

Ron leaned forward, his eyes wide. “Of what?”

“Shapes,” Harry said. “Wrong shapes. Moving between trees, sliding through water. And that’s when we knew we couldn’t stay.”

Daphne nodded grimly. “Whatever it was, it didn’t like the fire. But we couldn’t keep it burning forever. So we packed up at first light. Rain soaking everything. We were freezing, hungry, soaked, and every direction looked the same.”

“But we had magic,” Harry said quietly. “And we had each other. That counted for something.”

Silence settled once again, broken only by a soft comment from Ryan Wolfe, who’d been lurking near the back.

“So let me get this straight,” he said, tone light but eyes sharp. “You evaded cops, blacked out a station, vanished into a swamp, were stalked by possibly interdimensional wildlife—and still managed to come out the other end?”

Daphne gave him a flat look. “We didn’t come out. We ran in deeper.”

Harry’s voice was like flint. “Because Lucius Malfoy was still behind us. And by that point... I think the swamp wasn’t our worst problem.”

Horatio Caine stood at the head of the Hogwarts staff table, hands clasped behind his back, his sunglasses perched on the edge of his nose, despite the fact they were very much indoors and the lighting was aggressively medieval. Across from him, students watched with a mix of fascination, scepticism, and the occasional dawning horror. This wasn’t the Daily Prophet—they were getting the story straight from the source.

“It began at the Everglades National Park entrance,” he said, his voice as calm and clinical as ever. “We had a tip. Two teenagers, matching Harry and Daphne’s descriptions, had been spotted entering the swamp. A ranger confirmed it. Said they looked exhausted. Dishevelled. Like they were trying to vanish.”

Beside him, Calleigh Duquesne stepped forward. “They weren’t just lost. They were being followed.”

That earned a few gasps, and Professor McGonagall’s eyes narrowed like she’d just been told someone had insulted her tartan.

Caine gave a slow nod. “The ranger mentioned another man. Tall, pale, long white hair. Said he looked like a ghost.”

Ron groaned. “Lucius bloody Malfoy.”

“That would be the one,” Calleigh replied, dry as old bone. “He wasn’t just following them. He was stalking them. The ranger said he never got close, but the way he moved? Deliberate. Like a predator.”

“We formed a search team,” Caine continued. “Local officers, rescue units, and Duquesne and I. Weather was closing in. Fast. Visibility dropped, the terrain was borderline impassable, and still, we pushed in. Because those two kids were out there, with something—someone—on their tail.”

Calleigh picked up the thread. “At first it was just footprints. Size tens, consistent with a teenage male. Then we found signs of a fire—still smoking. Granola bar wrapper nearby. They’d camped there recently.”

Neville leaned in, whispering, “They were that close to being found?”

Hermione elbowed him. “Shut up, I’m trying to listen.”

“We pushed further,” Caine said. “And that’s when it all changed.”

A silence fell over the hall, anticipation thick as treacle.

“There was a sound,” Calleigh said. “Loud. Snapping branch. Growl. Not your usual swamp wildlife, I’ll tell you that. We fanned out. Weapons drawn. This wasn’t about kids anymore.”

“And then he appeared,” Caine said grimly. “Lucius. Just walked out of the trees like he owned the place. White hair, pale skin, eyes like glowing sulphur. Looked like he’d been pulled straight out of a nightmare.”

Harry, watching from the Gryffindor table, tensed. Daphne reached over and subtly squeezed his hand.

“He didn’t attack,” Calleigh said. “Didn’t need to. He talked.”

Caine’s jaw tightened. “He knew our names. Our files. Our habits. He wasn’t just tracking Harry and Daphne—he was studying us. Playing with us.”

“He said, and I quote,” Calleigh added, “‘So, you’ve come looking for the children, have you?’ Like they were lost puppies.”

There was a collective shiver through the room. Even Professor Flitwick looked like he’d swallowed something sour.

“And then?” asked Hermione, eyes wide.

Caine’s gaze moved across the hall. “And then he vanished. Just like that. One second he’s there, the next, gone. No footprints. No sound. Nothing.”

“How?” someone muttered.

“I don’t know,” Caine admitted. “And I don’t say that often.”

Calleigh stepped back in. “We tried to track him. Nothing. Whatever Lucius is capable of, it’s not in any manual I’ve ever read.”

“After that,” Caine concluded, “we pulled back. Reassessed. We weren’t equipped for that level of… unexplainable. But we kept looking for the kids. It was clear they were being hunted.”

He turned to Harry and Daphne, his expression solemn but not without a trace of respect. “I don’t know how you survived out there. But I’m starting to think survival is your natural state.”

Harry gave a small, humourless smile. “It’s more like a bad habit, sir.”

There was a pause. Then, surprisingly, a soft chuckle from Calleigh.

“Yeah,” she said. “That tracks.”

The atmosphere in the Great Hall was electric. Students hung on every word as Lieutenant Caine recounted the surreal confrontation in the Everglades—the kind of encounter that normally ended with a padded cell and a diagnosis, not field reports.

“It was like something out of a fever dream,” Caine said, his voice calm but laced with an underlying edge. “We had him—Lucius Malfoy—right there. Standing in the middle of a clearing, staring us down like he owned the place.”

Calleigh Duquesne, arms crossed and jaw tight, picked up where he left off. “His eyes were glowing. Not a figure of speech—actually glowing. Yellow. Inhuman. Like something you'd see in a horror film, just before everyone dies.”

A few first-years gasped. The Slytherins, predictably, tried to look unimpressed. Draco Malfoy, in particular, looked like he might spontaneously combust.

“He talked like we were beneath him,” Duquesne continued. “Used words like ‘muggle’—said it like an insult. Told us our laws didn’t matter. That we were out of our depth. Honestly, it was hard not to shoot him right there.”

There was a sharp intake of breath from Professor Sprout. Professor Snape, unusually silent, watched with narrowed eyes.

“He laughed,” Caine said. “Right to our faces. And then he started throwing around words like ‘magic’, ‘Dark Lord’, ‘Voldemort’…”

A visible ripple went through the students at the name. Caine paused, taking in the shift in the room.

“Yeah, that got your attention,” he said drily. “He said Harry was a threat to this Voldemort guy. That he and Daphne were… witches. Wizards. Part of some ancient magical war.”

“And then he vanished,” Duquesne added. “I don’t mean ran off into the woods. I don’t mean slipped into the shadows. I mean one second he was there, the next—gone. Like he stepped into a pocket of air and it swallowed him.”

“You’re sure he didn’t disillusion himself?” Hermione asked quickly.

Caine blinked. “I’m sorry, what?”

“Disappear charm. Cloaking spell,” Daphne clarified, deadpan.

Duquesne shrugged. “If that’s what you call it. Looked a hell of a lot like teleportation to me. And not the Hollywood kind. This was clean. Instant.”

“After that,” Caine continued, “we regrouped at the ranger station. Called off the initial sweep. The rain washed away the trail, and the swamp turned into a death trap.”

“But we had evidence,” Duquesne added. “Footprints. A burned-out fire. A granola bar wrapper. They’d been there, alright. Just steps ahead of us.”

“We reported the encounter,” Caine said. “Some officers thought we were losing it. Others… well, they believed. Because we weren’t the only ones who saw something.”

A hush fell over the hall as Caine’s voice dipped lower. “A ranger—one of the locals—came sprinting into the station. Said he saw a creature in the swamp. Glowing eyes. Huge. Not human.”

Neville made a strangled noise. Luna just nodded serenely, as if she'd expected it all along.

“I’ve seen a lot in my career,” Caine said. “Serial killers. Bomb scenes. Hurricane aftermaths. But that swamp? That night? It was something else. Like the world shifted sideways and no one remembered to tell us.”

“And whatever it was,” Duquesne added grimly, “it wasn’t just Harry and Daphne on the run anymore. They were being hunted. And we were walking blind into someone else’s battlefield.”

Caine turned to Harry across the hall, eyes steady behind the tinted lenses.

“I don’t know what kind of war you’re fighting, son. But after that night, I stopped pretending it wasn’t real.”

The Hogwarts crowd was riveted.

“Wait—hang on,” Ron interrupted, gaping. “You stunned a bloody Chimera? In the Everglades?”

“It wasn’t exactly a walk in the park,” Harry said dryly. “Unless your idea of a nice stroll includes being chased by an overgrown mutant lawn ornament with three heads and a vendetta.”

“And Malfoy was there,” Daphne added, arms folded. “Tossing around dark curses like he was auditioning for a villain-of-the-week special. We had to bolt—again—and he chased us straight into that swamp.”

“Right into a Chimera nest,” Harry muttered. “Because of course he did.”

Beside them, Caine and Duquesne stood like statues, arms crossed, expressions unreadable. That didn't stop the Gryffindors from glancing at them every ten seconds like they expected the pair to start frothing at the mouth.

Hermione leaned forward, eyes wide. “A real Chimera? Those are—those are Class Five magical creatures! They’re supposed to be extinct outside of Greece!”

“Well,” Calleigh muttered under her breath, “you can scratch that off the endangered list.”

The room fell quiet as Horatio Caine stepped forward, his voice slow and deliberate.

“We’d already had some… unusual experiences. The disappearing act. The blackout. The vanishing footprints. But nothing—and I mean nothing—prepared us for that.”

He glanced at Duquesne, who just shook her head slowly.

“One minute we’re tracking prints,” she said, “next thing we know, this… thing—this three-headed monster comes out of the dark like it’s got a personal grudge against modern policing.”

“We were out of our depth,” Caine admitted, blunt and unapologetic. “That’s not something I say often. But it’s the truth. We aimed, we fired—nothing.”

“Bullets bounced off,” Duquesne added. “Like shooting into a sandbag soaked in concrete.”

“Then those two,” Caine gestured toward Harry and Daphne, “came charging out of the reeds like a pair of lunatics with glorified sticks. And stopped it.”

Calleigh’s gaze moved across the room. “They didn’t hesitate. Not for a second. They just… acted. Like they’d done it before. Like it was instinct.”

“Which it was,” Daphne said with a shrug. “Not our first monster.”

“That’s what you call it?” Duquesne snapped. “Not your first?”

Harry tried not to smile. “There’s been a basilisk, a dragon, a few Inferi, a horde of spiders—"

“Don’t forget the werewolf,” Daphne added casually.

Duquesne looked vaguely nauseous. “I... see.”

“I didn’t,” Caine said flatly, “until I did. And that’s the thing—Lucius disappeared. Mid-sentence. Just gone. No wires, no smoke, no tech.”

“He conjured lightning,” Duquesne said. “The sky lit up—and then it was just us, soaked and stunned and staring down a knocked-out... whatever the hell that thing was.”

“And then Potter lit up the night with a floating light orb,” Caine added. “Which was helpful, and also completely ruined my sense of reality.”

Ron, predictably, looked smug. “That’s a basic Lumos. I could do that in my sleep.”

“Great,” Caine said dryly. “Maybe next time I’m being chased by a magical lion-goat-snake hybrid, I’ll ask you to light the path.”

“You’d better,” Ron said cheerfully. “I do great work under pressure.”

“So you believe us now?” Harry asked, directing his gaze at the two detectives.

Caine’s mouth twitched, not quite a smile. “I believed you somewhere between the vanishing suspect and the flying death monster. What I don’t understand is why.”

Harry exchanged a glance with Daphne before answering.

“We were kidnapped,” he said. “Lucius brought us to America for… some dark plan. He’s working for Voldemort—”

Another ripple of discomfort passed through the Hogwarts students.

“—and whatever he’s planning, it involves using us to draw someone out. Or maybe just to get rid of us quietly. But it didn’t work. We escaped.”

“More than once,” Daphne added. “He’s persistent. And unhinged.”

“And dangerous,” Harry finished. “We can’t underestimate him. And now that the statute of secrecy is well and truly blown to hell, we figured it was time to explain.”

“And the Chimera?” Hermione pressed. “You really stunned it?”

Harry shrugged. “It took a few goes. And a fair bit of luck. But yeah—we got it.”

“Together,” Daphne said firmly.

Horatio stepped forward again. “If that’s what you two call teamwork, I suggest the rest of us catch up quick. Because if creatures like that are real, then so is everything else.”

Duquesne’s eyes flicked around the room, settling on Dumbledore. “Your world’s leaking into ours. And we need to know what we’re dealing with. Because next time? I don’t think we’ll be as lucky.”

Harry nodded solemnly. “We can tell you everything. But you might wish we hadn’t.”

Caine raised an eyebrow. “After what I’ve seen, Potter, I doubt there’s much left that could surprise me.”

Daphne snorted softly. “Famous last words.”

Daphne folded her arms and exhaled sharply, facing the gathered Hogwarts staff and students in the debriefing chamber. “By the time night fell, the SWAT team had made it to the site. It looked ridiculous, to be honest. All those guns and riot gear—felt like overkill until you remember we were in the middle of a swamp being hunted by a Death Eater with a superiority complex.”

Caine nodded grimly beside her. “The commander wasn’t exactly thrilled. He thought we’d wasted his time calling in a full unit for what he thought was a pair of runaway kids. I told him this wasn’t a normal case. He pressed me, but I couldn’t exactly tell him ‘magic’ in front of the whole squad. I just told him their safety was paramount.”

Harry interjected with a dry smirk. “You should’ve seen the commander’s face. He kept saying things like ‘abilities?’ and ‘What are they, circus performers?’ Meanwhile Daphne and I were standing there wondering if we’d be able to keep the bloke alive if Lucius popped in mid-convo.”

Duquesne added, “Caine took them aside—away from the SWAT team—and that’s when we got the full truth. They explained Malfoy was a dark wizard. Could do curses, spells, and... teleportation? Apparition, they called it. Honestly, at that point I didn’t know whether to arrest them or ask them to teach me how to vanish out of paperwork.”

Professor McGonagall, lips pursed tightly, gave a sharp nod. “Apparition. Quite advanced magic, especially under duress. I assume you told them more after that?”

Daphne nodded. “We did. We told them Lucius was after Harry, that he’d likely try to isolate him and that we needed to turn that into an opportunity. Lure him in, distract him.”

Harry rubbed the back of his neck. “I didn’t love the idea, but she was right. We couldn’t let Lucius target the SWAT team. Most of them were muggles. They wouldn’t have stood a chance.”

Caine’s voice was low. “They spoke like trained operatives. Calm, strategic. I’ve worked with hardened officers who crack faster. These two? Stone-cold professionals in teenage bodies. We agreed to back their plan.”

Snape arched a brow. “And you, Potter, called Malfoy out in the middle of a U.S. federal operation?”

Harry shrugged unapologetically. “He was going to attack anyway. Better he came when we were ready for him.”

Duquesne cut in, “After Harry yelled into the woods like he was summoning a ghost, we put the entire team on alert. The commander was ready to bite his own gun barrel. Thought we were all mad.”

Daphne gave a humourless laugh. “Then we waited. It was quiet. Too quiet. The air was thick—you could feel him watching us.”

Harry’s expression darkened. “And then we heard the leaves move. Spun around and... there he was. Tall, smug, and glowing like a rejected shampoo model.”

Gasps echoed through the room. Some students leaned forward, clearly hanging on every word.

“Lucius Malfoy,” Caine confirmed. “Arrived just like they said. Didn’t say a word. Just stared at them like he’d already won.”

“He hadn’t,” Daphne said coldly. “Not even close.”

Harry gave a tired but determined nod as the debrief room at Hogwarts fell into a stunned hush. "He came straight out of the trees," he said, his voice low but clear. "We had our wands ready, but to the SWAT team, it just looked like we were waving sticks. The commander nearly had a coronary. He started shouting at us like we were kids about to hit a piñata."

Several professors exchanged confused glances. Snape’s expression remained unreadable, though his narrowed eyes flicked briefly to Daphne.

"Harry told them we were saving their lives," Daphne added. "Which, frankly, we were. They didn’t believe us, of course. Thought we were pulling magic tricks."

Harry smirked bitterly. "Lucius was already there. Watching. We could feel it. Like something crawling up your spine. The SWAT team didn’t have a clue, poor bastards."

"He was assessing us," Daphne said. "Sizing us up. Waiting for the right moment. So we decided to force his hand."

"Lumos Maxima," Harry explained. "Together. Lit up the whole damn swamp like we’d detonated a flare the size of Hogsmeade. And sure enough, it flushed him right out. He staggered back, furious."

"And then we let him have it," Daphne said sharply. "We fired a volley. Expelliarmus. Petrificus Totalus. He deflected most of it, but he was rattled. Wasn’t expecting resistance."

Professor Flitwick murmured something approving under his breath. McGonagall sat rigid, her lips thinned, eyes like steel.

Lucius had called them foolish children, Harry continued. “Said our spells were parlor tricks. Said I had a stolen wand. Same old Lucius—so smug, so damn sure he was untouchable."

"I circled around behind him," Daphne said. "We knew if we attacked from two sides, he’d struggle. But he sensed me, turned, cast the Cruciatus."

A few students gasped audibly.

"I dodged it," Daphne said quickly, her voice flat. "Barely. Fired back with Stupefy. Harry backed me up. It turned into a full duel."

“Spells everywhere,” Harry said. “The SWAT guys were in shock. They’d never seen anything like it. The whole clearing was a mess of light, noise, magic. It was chaos."

"Then Lucius vanished," Daphne said. "Apparated. Coward."

Madam Bones, standing at the back with her arms folded, cleared her throat. "And no one was hurt?"

"No," Harry said. "But it was close. Too close."

"We told them what happened," Daphne said. "Back at Miami PD. In Caine’s office. Caine, Duquesne, even the SWAT commander sat there, jaws on the floor as we explained. Hogwarts, Death Eaters, Voldemort. Everything."

McGonagall stared at them for a long moment. "And they believed you?"

"They saw enough to believe," Harry said. "They saw spells. They saw Lucius. They saw a bloody Chimera. Not much left to argue with after that."

"They wanted to call in the FBI," Daphne added. "The CIA. Harry had to tell them Muggle tactics wouldn’t work. This is a magical problem. It needs magical solutions."

"They asked how to help," Harry said. "We told them—we need to get to MACUSA. We need to warn them."

Professor Sprout, voice trembling, asked, "And Lucius? He’ll come again?"

Daphne’s face was unreadable. "Yes. But next time, we’ll be ready."