John flipped to the next page in the file.
“Your fifth UDE occurred on June twenty-fourth, nineteen ninety-five.”
Harry immediately recognized the date.
“The graveyard.”
John nodded.
“Little Hangleton.”
A brief silence followed.
“That was the first time Tom Marvolo Riddle actually succeeded in killing you.”
Harry stared.
The words sounded surreal.
“A one-hour backstep corrected that event.”
The room fell quiet.
After several moments, Harry asked the question that had been bothering him since the beginning.
“If we’ve met before…”
John sighed.
“…then why don’t I remember any of it?”
“Because we remove the memories.”
Harry blinked.
“What?”
“Every time we perform a backstep.”
John folded his hands atop the desk.
“When we send someone back, we erase their recollection of Judgement, alter a handful of circumstances, and adjust the thoughts or actions of key individuals just enough to prevent the same death from occurring again.”
Harry frowned.
“So that’s what you’re going to do now?”
The answer came instantly.
“No.”
Something in John’s tone made Harry sit up straighter.
“No?”
“No.”
The grim reaper’s expression became serious.
“This time is different.”
Harry felt a knot form in his stomach.
John studied him for a moment.
“Any other questions before we get to that?”
Thousands of questions raced through Harry’s mind.
He grabbed the first one.
“The soulmates.”
John immediately waved a dismissive hand.
“We’ll cover that shortly.”
“Right.”
Harry thought again.
“What about the Potter fortune?”
John actually looked pleased.
“That one I can answer.”
Harry waited.
“Tell me, Harry.”
John leaned forward.
“Did you ever wonder why Gringotts referred to your vault as a trust vault?”
Harry frowned.
“No.”
Then his eyes widened.
“Oh.”
“Exactly.”
John nodded.
“The trust vault was only one of three Potter vaults.”
Harry sat frozen.
“The first contained your spending funds until you reached your majority or became emancipated.”
Another finger rose.
“The second holds the bulk of the family’s liquid assets, business interests, property deeds, investments, and financial holdings.”
A third finger.
“The final vault contains heirlooms.”
“Weapons?”
“Among other things.”
John nodded.
“Jewelry. Historical artifacts. Family records. Paintings. Magical relics.”
Harry stared.
“I never knew.”
“That was intentional.”
John didn’t elaborate.
Instead, he continued.
“When you return—and you are returning, by the way—you are to arrange your emancipation through the goblins immediately after your name emerges from the Goblet of Fire.”
Harry frowned.
“Immediately?”
“As soon as possible.”
John’s voice carried unmistakable authority.
“Prepare the paperwork beforehand if necessary.”
Harry nodded slowly.
Then another question surfaced.
“So Ron isn’t my friend.”
“No.”
“And Ginny isn’t my soulmate.”
“Definitely not.”
The answer was immediate and absolute.
John tapped the folder.
“Once emancipated, you’ll gain access to the Potter Head of House ring.”
Harry tilted his head.
“The ring?”
“It carries protections tied to your family line.”
John’s lips curled slightly.
“Among other things, it makes it considerably harder for someone to secretly dose you with potions.”
Harry thought back over everything he’d learned.
The implications were unsettling.
Then another memory surfaced.
“The Deluminator.”
John raised an eyebrow.
“What about it?”
“I never asked at the time.”
Harry leaned forward.
“How did Ron actually use it to find us?”
For the first time in quite a while, John smiled.
“There you are.”
Harry blinked.
“What?”
“You’re thinking again.”
The smile widened.
“Without half a dozen potions clouding your judgment, your instincts are finally waking up.”
Harry wasn’t sure whether to be offended or encouraged.
“The Deluminator wasn’t just a sentimental gift.”
John tapped the desk.
“It was one of Albus’s monitoring devices.”
Harry’s eyes widened.
“It was?”
“Of course.”
John shrugged.
“It contained a directional tracking charm combined with a distance-location enchantment.”
Harry frowned.
“And Ron figured it out?”
“He did.”
John nodded.
“Which should tell you something.”
Harry sighed.
“That he isn’t as stupid as he pretends to be.”
“Exactly.”
The grim reaper seemed pleased.
Harry shook his head.
The more he learned, the less certainty he had about anything.
Then another question occurred to him.
“Why do you keep calling him Albus Wulfric?”
John looked confused.
“What?”
“Dumbledore.”
Harry shrugged.
“His name is Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore.”
“No, it isn’t.”
The correction came instantly.
Harry blinked.
“What?”
“It’s Albus Wulfric Dumbledore.”
John paused.
Then groaned.
“Oh, for the love of—”
He rubbed his forehead.
“Right. I forgot.”
Harry waited.
“Two reasons.”
John raised two fingers.
“First, up here we generally use given names only.”
The first finger lowered.
“Second, Percival and Brian were never part of his legal name.”
Harry stared.
“They weren’t?”
“No.”
John snorted.
“He added them himself.”
Silence.
Harry blinked.
“You mean—”
“Exactly.”
John nodded.
“He thought they made him sound more distinguished.”
Harry couldn’t help it.
A laugh escaped him.
That sounded absurdly believable.
After a moment, he sobered.
“Alright.”
John waited.
Harry folded his arms.
“I assume this is the part where you explain how I’m supposed to fix everything.”
A slow smile spread across John’s face.
“Very good.”
Harry frowned.
“What?”
“You’re finally asking the correct questions.”
The grim reaper closed the folder.
“If you have no more interruptions planned?”
Harry considered.
After several moments, he shook his head.
“Not right now.”
A pause.
“I suspect the answers you’re avoiding will create several new questions anyway.”
John chuckled.
“An excellent observation.”
Then his expression became serious.
“As I’ve already said, we’re sending you back.”
Harry nodded.
“But.”
The single word immediately caught his attention.
John raised a finger.
“Because you’ve now experienced six UDEs…”
The office grew quiet.
“…your memories will remain intact.”
Harry froze.
“What?”
“No memory wipe.”
For several seconds he simply stared.
“You mean I’ll remember everything?”
“Everything.”
Harry wasn’t sure whether to be relieved or terrified.
Then another realization struck.
“How far back?”
John smiled.
“A great deal further than usual.”
“When?”
“The morning of September first, nineteen ninety-four.”
Harry’s eyes widened.
“The Hogwarts Express.”
“Correct.”
“My fourth year.”
“Correct again.”
Harry shook his head.
“That’s years.”
“It is.”
“A massive change.”
“It is.”
John nodded calmly.
“But the authorization came from the highest level.”
Harry blinked.
“The highest level?”
“The Boss.”
“The Boss?”
“The Big Guy.”
Harry stared.
John stared back.
“…God?”
John pointed at him.
“Now you’re catching on.”
Harry leaned back heavily.
This entire conversation felt increasingly unreal.
“And that’s not all.”
Harry immediately became wary.
“What else?”
“We’re making additional adjustments.”
The wariness increased.
“What kind of adjustments?”
John smiled.
“The important kind.”
Harry didn’t like that answer.
John ignored him.
“We’re upgrading your soulmate relationships with Hermione Jean Granger and Daphne Anna Greengrass.”
Harry frowned.
“Upgrading?”
“To soul bonds.”
“Wait.”
Harry immediately raised both hands.
“No.”
John sighed.
“Yes.”
“No, explain first.”
The grim reaper muttered something under his breath about teenagers.
“What exactly is the difference between a soulmate and a soul bond?”
John leaned back.
“Fine.”
He folded his arms.
“There are several levels of soul compatibility.”
Harry listened carefully.
“The most basic is soul acquaintance.”
John began counting on his fingers.
“People whose souls resonate enough that they’ll generally get along if they meet.”
Another finger.
“Next comes soul friend.”
Harry immediately thought of Neville.
John nodded.
“Exactly.”
Then another finger.
“People whose souls naturally align. Long-term friendships form easily and endure almost effortlessly.”
“Neville.”
“Yes.”
“Luna?”
“Also yes.”
Harry nodded.
That made sense.
“After that comes soulmate.”
John continued.
“Soulmates can fall deeply in love, marry, and live extraordinarily happy lives together.”
Harry blinked.
“But?”
John smiled.
“But they don’t have to.”
The answer surprised him.
“They can remain friends, go separate ways, or marry other people and still live fulfilling lives.”
Harry frowned.
“Really?”
“Of course.”
John shrugged.
“Everyone has multiple soulmates walking around somewhere.”
That wasn’t what Harry expected.
“The level above that is soul bond.”
The room seemed to grow quieter.
John’s expression became more serious.
“These individuals are stronger together than apart.”
He tapped the desk.
“Their souls partially link.”
Harry listened intently.
“For magicals, once a soul bond forms, outside interference becomes effectively impossible.”
“What kind of interference?”
“Spells.”
A finger.
“Potions.”
Another.
“Mind control.”
Another.
“Curses intended to separate them.”
Harry blinked.
“They just fail?”
“More or less.”
John smirked.
“A spell slides off.”
“And potions?”
That smile widened.
“Potions are considerably more entertaining.”
Harry wasn’t sure he liked that look.
“If someone with a soul bond drinks a potion designed to alter their feelings…”
John paused dramatically.
“…their body rejects it.”
Harry frowned.
“Rejects it how?”
John grinned.
“You’ve heard the phrase projectile vomiting?”
Harry immediately recoiled.
“Oh, that’s disgusting.”
“Quite.”
John chuckled.
“Though that only happens if the potion remains in the stomach.”
Harry looked horrified.
“And if it doesn’t?”
“A brief period of intense pain while the body neutralizes it.”
Harry wasn’t sure that sounded much better.
John continued.
“Once formed, a soul bond can only be broken by death.”
Harry swallowed.
“Death.”
“Yes.”
John nodded.
“But once everyone involved passes through Judgement, the bond reforms.”
The thought was strangely comforting.
“And the final level?”
John’s smile disappeared entirely.
“Soul Bound.”
Harry noticed the capitalization.
“What makes it different?”
John’s voice softened.
“At that point, the souls are no longer linked.”
A pause.
“They are shared.”
Harry felt a chill.
“Shared?”
“Completely.”
John nodded.
“Thoughts.”
Another nod.
“Emotions.”
Another.
“Magic.”
Harry stared.
“Telepathy?”
“For magicals, yes.”
The answer came easily.
Then John’s expression became solemn.
“There is, however, a cost.”
Harry had expected one.
“If one dies…”
The room fell silent.
“…they all die.”
Harry’s eyes widened.
“So they can pass through the Gates together.”
John nodded once.
“Exactly.”
For several moments neither of them spoke.
Then John sighed.
“And before you ask…”
Harry blinked.
“I wasn’t going to.”
“Yes, you were.”
John pointed at him.
“The terms soul bond and Soul Bound are constantly confused.”
Harry reluctantly nodded.
He had, in fact, been about to ask exactly that.