**Hogwarts, The Next Evening**
Harry stood in McGonagall's office, wearing clean robes for the first time in what felt like weeks. The Starheart gleamed on his finger, but he'd learned to suppress most of its glow—no more walking around looking like a Christmas decoration, as George had put it.
Luna stood beside him, her blue ring pulsing softly. She'd changed into traveling clothes—somehow still managing to look both practical and whimsical, with radish earrings that glowed faintly blue to match her ring.
"Are you certain about this?" McGonagall asked for the third time. She stood behind her desk—Dumbledore's desk, though she still looked uncomfortable claiming it—her hands clasped so tightly her knuckles were white.
"I'm certain, Professor," Harry said gently. "I need this training. We both do."
"Three months," McGonagall repeated, as though saying it enough times would make it feel more reasonable. "Three months in outer space, learning to be... what did Mr. Jordan call it?"
"Intergalactic peacekeepers," Luna supplied helpfully. "The Green Lantern Corps has jurisdiction over 3,600 space sectors. Harry will be assigned to Sector 2814, which includes Earth. I'll be with the Blue Lantern Corps on Odym, spreading hope throughout the universe."
"Spreading hope throughout the universe," McGonagall said faintly. "Miss Lovegood, you're sixteen years old."
"Seventeen in February," Luna corrected. "And age is less important than temperament for the Blue Lanterns. They choose people who can maintain hope even in the darkest circumstances. Apparently, believing in Nargles when everyone says they don't exist counts as excellent training."
Despite everything, McGonagall's lips twitched. "I suppose it does."
A green shimmer appeared in the center of the office—not quite solid, not quite light. It resolved into Hal Jordan, looking considerably less exhausted than he had the previous night. His uniform was pristine, his ring glowing steadily.
"Ready?" Hal asked, looking at Harry and Luna.
"As we'll ever be," Harry said.
"Good." Hal turned to McGonagall. "Professor, I promise you, we'll take good care of them. The Green Lantern Corps has trained thousands of beings from hundreds of species. Harry's in good hands."
"He'd better be," McGonagall said, and there was steel in her voice. "Because if anything happens to either of them, Mr. Jordan, you'll discover that Scottish witches are far more terrifying than any dark lord."
"Noted," Hal said, managing not to smile. "For what it's worth, Professor, you've raised remarkable students. Both of them. You should be proud."
"I am," McGonagall said, and her voice softened. "I am immensely proud. But that doesn't make it easier to watch them leave."
Harry crossed to her desk, and somewhat impulsively, hugged her. McGonagall stiffened for a moment, then returned the embrace fiercely.
"You come back, Harry Potter," she whispered. "You come back safe, and whole, and still yourself. Don't let them turn you into something you're not."
"I won't," Harry promised. "And Professor? Thank you. For everything. For believing in me, even when I was getting into trouble. For being there when Dumbledore couldn't be. For keeping Hogwarts safe during the battle."
"Oh, Harry," McGonagall said, and she was crying now, propriety be damned. "You brave, foolish, wonderful boy. Of course we believed in you. How could we not?"
She pulled back, dabbing at her eyes with a conjured handkerchief. "Off with you, then. Before I change my mind and hex Mr. Jordan for even suggesting this madness."
Luna hugged McGonagall next, surprising the professor into another round of tears. "I'll take good care of him," Luna said seriously. "And I'll make sure he writes. Harry's terrible at correspondence, but the Blue Lanterns can enhance his willingness to communicate through hope energy."
"That's not how it works," Hal said.
"Isn't it?" Luna asked innocently.
Hal looked at her, then at her ring, then sighed. "With Blue Lanterns, honestly, who knows. Your Corps operates on pure optimism and somehow that works."
"Exactly," Luna said, satisfied.
There was a soft knock at the door, and Hermione slipped in, followed by Ron. Both looked like they hadn't slept, but they were there.
"We wanted to see you off," Hermione said, her voice thick. "Properly."
"Couldn't let you leave without saying goodbye," Ron added. "Even if you're coming back in three months. Still counts as leaving."
Harry hugged them both—Hermione fierce and tight, Ron's back-slapping and awkward but no less meaningful.
"Take care of each other," Harry said. "Both of you. And take care of George. He needs you."
"We will," Ron promised. "And mate? When you get back, you're teaching me how to make those green construct things. That was brilliant."
"Requires a power ring," Hal pointed out.
"Then I'll get a power ring," Ron said stubbornly. "Harry did. Luna did. Maybe there's one for me too. A Red Lantern ring. Those run on rage, yeah? I've got plenty of that right now."
"Red Lanterns are complicated," Hal said carefully. "They tend to... lose themselves in the rage. It's not a path I'd recommend."
"Was joking anyway," Ron muttered. "Mostly."
Hermione pulled Luna into a hug next. "Be safe," she said. "Both of you. And Luna? Thank you for going with him. I'll rest easier knowing Harry has someone looking after him."
"I think we'll be looking after each other," Luna said serenely. "That's what partners do."
"All right," Hal said gently. "We really do need to go. There's a transport window in fifteen minutes, and if we miss it, the next one isn't for six hours."
"Transport window?" Hermione asked, immediately curious despite her tears.
"Green Lanterns can fly faster than light," Hal explained. "But there are still optimal routes through space—areas with less gravitational interference, fewer asteroid fields, that sort of thing. We call them transport windows. Makes the journey smoother."
"Fascinating," Hermione breathed. "So you're using gravitational fields as a kind of celestial highway system—"
"Hermione," Ron interrupted gently. "They need to go."
"Right. Yes. Sorry." Hermione wiped her eyes. "Harry James Potter, you write every week. Every single week. Or I swear I'll find a way to fly to Oa myself and drag you back."
"Every week," Harry promised, smiling. "I'll send pictures too. Of aliens and planets and weird space phenomena."
"I'm holding you to that," Hermione said.
Final hugs. Final goodbyes. Final promises to write, to be safe, to come home.
And then Hal raised his ring, and green light enveloped all three of them.
"Hold on," Hal said. "First time traveling by ring can be disorienting. Try not to throw up on me. The Corps frowns on that."
"Noted," Harry said, gripping Luna's hand.
The light intensified, and suddenly they were *moving*—not flying, not apparating, but *translating*. The office disappeared, replaced by a tunnel of green energy that stretched infinitely in all directions. Harry could see stars through the walls of the tunnel, whole galaxies spinning past like fireflies.
"Oh," Luna breathed, her eyes wide with wonder. "It's beautiful."
"It is, isn't it?" Hal agreed. "Never gets old. No matter how many times I do this, I still feel lucky."
Harry couldn't speak. The sheer *scale* of what he was seeing had stolen his words. The Earth fell away behind them, shrinking to a blue marble, then a dot, then gone. The moon flashed past. Mars. The asteroid belt. Jupiter loomed large for a heartbeat, its Great Red Spot swirling like a cosmic eye, before they were beyond it.
*This is real,* Harry thought, almost frantically. *This is actually real. I'm flying through space. I'm leaving the solar system. I'm—*
*Becoming more than you were,* the Starheart finished. *Welcome to the wider universe, Harry Potter. I think you're going to like it here.*
They flew in silence for a while—minutes? Hours? Time felt strange inside the energy tunnel. Eventually, Hal spoke again.
"We'll stop at Odym first," he said. "Drop Luna off with the Blue Lanterns. Then it's on to Oa for you, Harry. The Guardians are eager to meet you."
"Are they nice?" Harry asked. "The Guardians?"
Hal laughed. "Define nice. They're ancient, immortal, emotionless beings who believe order and justice are the highest virtues. They created the Green Lantern Corps to police the universe and maintain peace. They're fair, they're wise, and they're utterly dedicated to the greater good."
"But not nice," Luna observed.
"Not... warm," Hal admitted. "But they mean well. And they're genuinely impressed by you, Harry. The Starheart hasn't chosen a wielder in over a decade. That's significant."
"No pressure," Harry muttered.
"Actually, quite a lot of pressure," Hal said cheerfully. "But you've handled pressure before, right? Dark lords, Horcruxes, walking to your own death—this should be easy by comparison."
"Somehow I doubt that," Harry said.
Luna squeezed his hand. "It will be fine, Harry. The universe brought us here for a reason. We just have to trust that reason."
*She's right, you know,* the Starheart said. *Trust is important. And Harry? I brought you here. Whatever happens next, you're not facing it alone.*
"Thanks," Harry murmured, not sure if he was talking to Luna or the Starheart or both.
Ahead, through the green tunnel, a star blazed brighter than the others. Blue instead of white, pulsing with a rhythm that felt almost like a heartbeat.
"That's Odym," Hal said, his voice softening. "Homeworld of the Blue Lantern Corps. Get ready, Luna. Your new family is waiting."
The blue star grew larger, and Harry caught his breath.
A whole new world. A whole new life.
And he was flying toward it at speeds that would have made broomsticks weep with envy.
*Here we go,* Harry thought.
And despite everything—the grief, the exhaustion, the overwhelming strangeness of it all—he smiled.
---
**Odym, Blue Lantern Central Power Battery**
The planet was *blue*.
Not metaphorically blue, not mostly blue—absolutely, completely, impossibly blue. The oceans were blue. The sky was a deeper blue. Even the clouds seemed to have blue undertones, as though the entire world had been dipped in sapphire ink.
And floating above the planet's largest island was a structure that defied Harry's understanding of architecture. It looked like a cathedral crossed with a lighthouse crossed with something organic—all flowing curves and soaring spires, glowing from within with blue light so intense it should have been painful to look at but somehow wasn't.
"The Blue Central Power Battery," Hal said as they descended. "Source of all Blue Lantern power. It's charged by hope itself—every act of optimism, every moment of belief, every time someone chooses to see possibility instead of defeat, it feeds the battery."
"That's beautiful," Luna breathed.
They landed on a platform that seemed to be made of solidified light—blue, naturally—where two figures waited.
The first was clearly humanoid, though his skin was a deep azure and he had no visible hair. He wore a Blue Lantern uniform—similar to Hal's Green Lantern suit but in shades of blue and white—and his smile was so genuinely warm that Harry felt some of his nervousness ease just looking at him.
The second was decidedly not humanoid. She—Harry was fairly certain it was she, though alien biology was confusing—resembled a large feline, eight feet tall when standing upright, covered in silver-blue fur that seemed to shimmer with internal light. Her eyes were enormous, golden, and kind.
"Welcome," the blue-skinned man said, his voice accented but understandable. "I am Saint Walker, Blue Lantern of Space Sector 1. And this is Sister Sercy, Blue Lantern of Sector 23. We're honored to meet you, Luna Lovegood of Earth."
"Hello," Luna said, and she curtseyed—actually curtseyed, which would have been absurd if it didn't somehow fit perfectly. "Thank you for having me. Your planet is lovely. Does everything here glow, or just the important bits?"
Saint Walker laughed, delighted. "Mostly just the important bits. The Blue Light suffuses everything on Odym, but we've learned to moderate it in living spaces. Constant glowing makes it hard to sleep."
"Unless you're from a species that doesn't sleep," Sister Sercy added. Her voice was melodious, musical. "Then it's quite pleasant."
"Do you sleep?" Luna asked with genuine curiosity.
"Occasionally. When I remember to." The feline Blue Lantern tilted her head. "We'll have much to discuss, you and I. Not many Blue Lanterns come from worlds as young as Earth."
"How young is Earth?" Harry asked.
"In cosmic terms? An infant," Saint Walker said. "Your species has only had recognizable civilization for, what, ten thousand years? Most worlds in the Corps have civilizations spanning millions of years." He smiled. "But youth isn't weakness. Sometimes fresh perspectives are exactly what the universe needs."
Hal checked something on his ring. "I need to get Harry to Oa. The Guardians are waiting, and they're not known for their patience."
"Of course." Saint Walker turned to Luna. "Miss Lovegood, are you ready to begin your training?"
"I think so," Luna said. She looked at Harry, and for the first time since getting her ring, she seemed uncertain. "Harry? Will you be all right? Without me?"
"I'll be fine," Harry said, hoping it was true. "You'll be fine too. And we'll see each other soon, right?"
"Blue and Green Lanterns often train together," Saint Walker confirmed. "The synergy between our Corps makes joint operations highly effective. You'll have opportunities to visit."
Luna hugged Harry tightly. "Don't forget to eat," she whispered. "And sleep. And write to Hermione and Ron. And Harry? Remember that hope and will work best together. Don't try to do everything alone."
"I won't," Harry promised, hugging her back. "Luna? Thank you. For coming with me. For being here."
"Where else would I be?" Luna asked simply, and stepped back.
Hal clasped Saint Walker's arm in some kind of formal greeting—clearly a Lantern thing. "Take care of her, Walker. Earth's still new to all this. We need our Blue Lantern to come back in one piece."
"She'll be cherished here," Saint Walker promised. "All who bring hope to the universe are family to us."
More farewells. More promises. And then Hal and Harry were rising back into the atmosphere, leaving Luna on the blue platform with her new mentors.
Harry looked back until he couldn't see her anymore.
"She'll be okay," Hal said quietly. "The Blue Lanterns are probably the gentlest Corps in existence. They'll treat her well."
"I know," Harry said. "It's just... we just survived a war together. And now we're splitting up."
"Growing up," Hal corrected. "That's what this is, Harry. Both of you growing into what you're meant to be. It's scary, but it's also necessary."
They flew in silence for a while, leaving Odym's blue sun behind, entering the darkness between stars.
"Hal?" Harry asked eventually.
"Yeah?"
"What are the Guardians really like? Be honest."
Hal was quiet for a moment, considering. "They're... complicated. They're billions of years old, Harry. They've seen civilizations rise and fall. They've made decisions that shaped the universe. And they genuinely want to do good—to maintain order, to prevent chaos, to protect life wherever it exists." He paused. "But they're also rigid. Dogmatic. They believe in rules and protocols and chains of command. They don't like unknowns, and Harry, you're a massive unknown. The Starheart is magic, not science. It operates on principles they don't fully understand. That makes them nervous."
"So they're not going to like me."
"They're not going to know what to do with you," Hal corrected. "There's a difference. But Harry? Don't let them change who you are. They'll try to mold you into a proper Green Lantern—disciplined, controlled, by-the-book. That's fine for most recruits. But you're not most recruits. The Starheart chose you because of who you are, not despite it. Remember that."
"Hermione said something similar," Harry said quietly.
"Smart woman," Hal observed. "Listen to her."
Ahead, a new star blazed into view. Not blue this time—a pale green, almost emerald, pulsing with geometric precision.
"Oa," Hal announced. "The center of the universe. Home of the Guardians. Heart of the Green Lantern Corps."
The planet resolved as they approached—and it was nothing like Earth. Or Odym. This was a world of *order*, every feature precisely placed, every structure mathematically perfect. Vast cities stretched across continents in perfect grids. Geometric forests grew in exact patterns. Even the weather seemed controlled, clouds forming symmetrical spirals.
"It's very... organized," Harry said diplomatically.
"The Guardians like order," Hal said. "You'll notice that. A lot."
At the planet's equator, a structure rose that made even the Blue Lanterns' cathedral look small. It was a tower—no, a citadel—no, something beyond either word. It stretched miles into the atmosphere, all perfect angles and glowing green surfaces, surrounded by rings of smaller structures that orbited it like artificial moons.
"The Citadel of the Guardians," Hal said. "Central command for the entire Corps. And that—" He pointed at the massive green sphere at the citadel's center, so bright it was hard to look at directly. "—that's the Central Power Battery. Every Green Lantern ring in the universe draws power from that battery. Except yours."
"Because the Starheart is independent," Harry said.
"Exactly. Which is going to make this interesting."
They descended through the orbiting structures—training facilities, Hal explained, where Green Lanterns learned combat, diplomacy, engineering, and dozens of other skills needed for cosmic peacekeeping. Harry saw beings of every imaginable shape sparring in zero-gravity arenas, constructing elaborate structures from green light, practicing maneuvers that made his Quidditch skills look primitive.
"Seven thousand two hundred Green Lanterns," Hal said. "Give or take a few. All of them chosen because they have the ability to overcome great fear. All of them trained here, on Oa, before being assigned to their sectors."
"And I'm supposed to train with them?"
"With them, among them, learning from them," Hal confirmed. "But Harry, you're going to stand out. The Starheart makes you different. More powerful, but also more... magical. The other Lanterns might not know what to make of you."
"Story of my life," Harry muttered.
They landed on a platform near the citadel's base, where a small delegation waited.
And Harry got his first look at the Guardians of the Universe.
They were small. That was his first thought. Small and blue and wearing flowing robes that made them look like ancient monks. Their heads were disproportionately large, their eyes wise and ancient and utterly unreadable.
Twelve of them stood in a semicircle, watching Harry with expressions that gave nothing away.
"Hal Jordan," the center Guardian said—Ganthet, Harry remembered from Hal's briefing. "You have returned. And you have brought the Starheart's chosen."
"Guardians," Hal said, bowing slightly. It was weird seeing him show deference—Hal Jordan struck Harry as someone who didn't bow to anyone. "This is Harry Potter of Earth. Wielder of the Starheart. And the best damn Green Lantern recruit you're ever going to see."
One of the other Guardians—female, if that term even applied—raised what might have been an eyebrow. "Such confidence. We shall see if it is warranted."
She stepped forward, studying Harry with eyes that seemed to look through him rather than at him. "I am Sayd. We are the Guardians of the Universe, creators of the Green Lantern Corps, protectors of order and peace. You have been chosen by the Startheart, an artifact we did not create and do not fully understand. This concerns us."
"Because you can't control it," Harry said before he could stop himself.
The platform went very, very quiet.
Sayd's expression didn't change, but something flickered in her eyes. "You are direct. That is... refreshing. Yes, Harry Potter. We cannot control the Starheart. It predates the Corps by eons. It operates on magical principles that contradict our scientific understanding of the emotional spectrum. And now it has chosen a human child who has no formal training in using power of this magnitude."
"So why let me train here at all?" Harry asked. "If I'm such a problem?"
"Because," a third Guardian said—Appa Ali Apsa, stern and unyielding—"you are a problem regardless of where you are. Untrained, you are a danger to yourself and others. Properly trained, you could become either the Corps' greatest ally or its most dangerous enemy. We choose to guide you toward the former."
"Comforting," Harry said dryly.
Ganthet actually smiled—or what passed for a smile on his ancient face. "You have spirit. Good. You will need it. Harry Potter, the Guardians have debated your presence here at length. Some believe you should never have been allowed to bond with the Starheart. Others believe you are exactly what the universe needs. We have reached a compromise."
"Which is?"
"You will undergo the standard training regimen for Green Lantern recruits," Ganthet said. "Combat, construct formation, flight dynamics, diplomacy, cosmic law. You will be tested, evaluated, and judged alongside your fellow trainees. If you succeed, you will be recognized as a Green Lantern of Earth, authorized to operate in Sector 2814."
"And if I fail?"
"You won't fail," Hal said quickly.
"But if I do?" Harry pressed, looking at the Guardians.
"Then we will reassess," Sayd said carefully. "The Starheart cannot be removed from you—the bond is permanent. But we can choose whether to acknowledge you as a member of the Corps. Without that acknowledgment, you would be operating as a rogue element. Powerful but unaffiliated. And the universe does not react kindly to rogue elements."
In other words, Harry thought, succeed or become a target.
"I understand," Harry said.
"Do you?" Appa Ali Apsa stepped forward. "Harry Potter, you have been chosen by an artifact of immense power. You defeated a dark lord using that power. But this is not your world anymore. This is the universe—vast, dangerous, filled with beings who could destroy your entire planet with a thought. You are no longer the strongest person in the room. You are not even close. Remember that."
It should have been intimidating. Was meant to be intimidating. But Harry had walked into the Forbidden Forest ready to die. Had faced Voldemort's killing curse and survived. Had spent seven years being told he wasn't good enough, wasn't strong enough, wasn't anything enough.
He'd proven them all wrong.
"I'll remember," Harry said calmly. "But respectfully, Guardian? I didn't ask for this power. The Starheart chose me. So either it sees something in me worth developing, or it made a mistake. And from what Hal's told me, the Starheart doesn't make mistakes."
The Guardians exchanged looks.
"No," Ganthet said finally. "It does not. Very well, Harry Potter. You will begin training tomorrow. For tonight, you will be assigned quarters, provided with basic orientation materials, and allowed to rest. The journey from Earth is long, and you will need your strength."
"One more thing," Sayd added. "The other trainees do not know you are coming. They do not know about the Starheart. This is deliberate. We want to see how you interact with peers who have no preconceptions about your power. Try not to... advertise your uniqueness."
"So don't show off," Harry translated.
"Precisely."
Hal stepped forward. "I'll take him to the barracks. Get him settled."
"Very well." Ganthet raised one small hand in what might have been blessing or dismissal. "Welcome to Oa, Harry Potter. May your will be strong, your courage unwavering, and your time here... educational."
The Guardians turned as one and glided away, moving with eerie synchronization back toward the citadel.
Harry let out a breath he hadn't realized he was holding.
"Well," Hal said. "That went better than expected."
"They threatened to make me a rogue element if I fail," Harry pointed out.
"Yeah, but they didn't vaporize you on sight, so... success?" Hal grinned. "Come on. Let me show you where you'll be living for the next three months. Fair warning: the accommodations are spartan. Guardians believe comfort makes Lanterns soft."
"I grew up in a cupboard," Harry said. "I'll manage."
As they walked toward the barracks—a series of geometric buildings arranged in perfect concentric circles—Harry caught sight of other Green Lanterns. A massive red-skinned alien with four arms. A being that looked like living crystal. Something that might have been a sentient mathematical equation given form.
They all stopped to stare at him as he passed.
*You're the new curiosity,* the Starheart observed. *They can sense I'm different from their rings. It makes them uncertain.*
"Great," Harry muttered. "I love being stared at."
*You'll adjust. And Harry? This is going to be hard. Harder than Hogwarts, harder than the war. The Guardians will push you to your limits and beyond. But you'll survive. You always do.*
"Comforting," Harry said again, but this time he was smiling slightly.
Hal showed him to a small room—functionally identical to hundreds of others, with a bed, a desk, a viewport showing the star-filled sky, and nothing else. No decorations, no personal touches, nothing that suggested anyone actually lived here.
"Home sweet home," Hal said. "Orientation starts at 0600 tomorrow. That's six a.m. in Earth time. Don't be late—the Guardians take punctuality seriously. And Harry?"
"Yeah?"
"You're going to be fine. I know it doesn't feel like it right now. I know this is overwhelming and strange and you're probably terrified. But you walked into a forest to die for your friends. This?" He gestured around the room. "This is easy by comparison."
"Thanks, Hal," Harry said, meaning it.
"Get some rest. Tomorrow, your real training begins."
Hal left, and Harry was alone.
He sat on the bed—harder than Hogwarts beds, more like a military cot—and looked at his hands. The Starheart glowed softly on his finger, patient as always.
"We did it," Harry whispered. "We're actually here. In outer space. On an alien planet. Training to be cosmic peacekeepers."
*We did,* the Starheart agreed. *And tomorrow, we begin to discover what you're truly capable of.*
Harry looked out the viewport at the alien sky. Stars he didn't recognize. Constellations that would never be visible from Earth. The massive green glow of the Central Power Battery, pulsing with a rhythm that was almost hypnotic.
He thought about his friends, billions of miles away. About the Weasleys, grieving Fred. About Hermione, planning her trip to Australia. About Ginny and Neville, figuring out what came next for them. About Luna, on her blue planet, learning to spread hope across the universe.
He thought about Voldemort, frozen in the Phantom Zone, trapped forever in a moment of defeat and terror.
And he thought about himself. Harry Potter. The Boy Who Lived. The Chosen One. The boy who'd defeated the Dark Lord.
And now, something new.
Green Lantern.
"No pressure," Harry muttered to himself, and lay back on the uncomfortable bed.
Sleep came surprisingly quickly—exhaustion overriding anxiety—and Harry Potter dreamed of green fire and distant stars and possibilities he'd never imagined.
In the citadel, the Guardians watched through instruments that could observe across dimensions.
"He's more resilient than expected," Sayd observed.
"Or more foolish," Appa Ali Apsa countered. "Time will tell which."
"The Starheart chose well," Ganthet said quietly. "I believe this human will surprise us all."
"For better or worse?" another Guardian asked.
Ganthet didn't answer.
In the barracks, other trainees were noticing the new arrival. Whispers spread through the corridors—about the human, about his strange ring, about the way the Guardians had personally greeted him.
Most were curious.
Some were jealous.
And in the shadows between training facilities, something else watched. A small probe, barely larger than an insect, broadcasting data across unfathomable distances.
To Qward.
To Sinestro.
Who received the data and smiled.
"So it begins," the former Green Lantern murmured. "Welcome to the Corps, Harry Potter. Let's see if you're everything I hope you'll be."
He dismissed the probe with a thought and returned to his work.
The game was in motion now.
All the pieces were on the board.
And the universe, vast and ancient and infinitely patient, waited to see what would happen next.
—
# The Green Lantern of Hogwarts
## Interlude: Violet Dawn
**Beauxbatons Academy, France - Two Days After the Battle of Hogwarts**
Gabrielle Delacour stood at her dormitory window, watching the sun set over the Pyrenees, and tried not to cry.
She'd changed.
Not gradually, like human girls did—awkward years of growth spurts and uncomfortable transitions. No, Veela maturity came all at once, like throwing a switch. She'd gone to bed three weeks ago looking like a gangly child, all knobby knees and flat chest, and woken up looking like... well, like Fleur. All dangerous curves and silver-blonde hair that moved like liquid silk and skin that seemed to glow from within.
Her Veela senses had awakened too. The ability to sense emotions, to read desire, to know with absolute certainty when she'd found her—
"*Mon cœur,*" she whispered, pressing her forehead against the cool glass. "My heart."
Harry Potter.
She'd known the moment her maturity hit. Had *felt* him across hundreds of miles, her Veela instincts screaming that her mate existed, that he was real, that he was *perfect* for her. The pull had been so strong she'd nearly stolen Madame Maxime's wand and apparated to Britain on the spot.
But Fleur had sent word about the war. About the battle. About how dangerous everything was. *Stay safe, little sister. Stay in France. I'll bring him to you when this is over.*
Except now the war was over, and Fleur had sent a very different letter.
Gabrielle pulled it from her pocket, reading it again even though she'd memorized every crushing word:
*Dearest Gabrielle,*
*The war is won. Voldemort is defeated. But I must tell you something that will hurt, and I am so, so sorry.*
*Harry Potter has left Earth. He has become something called a Green Lantern—a cosmic protector. He has gone to a planet called Oa for training. He will be gone for three months, possibly longer.*
*I know what you hoped. I know what your Veela senses are telling you. But Gabrielle, he doesn't know. He doesn't know what you are to him. And I cannot ask him to give up this opportunity—this chance to become something greater—because my little sister's biology says he's her mate.*
*When he returns, you can meet him properly. You can see if the bond is real for him too. But for now, ma chérie, you must be patient.*
*Je t'aime,*
*Fleur*
Patient.
Gabrielle was sixteen years old, had finally reached her maturity after years of waiting, and her *mate*—the person her Veela instincts insisted was her perfect match, the one who would complete her—had left the planet.
A laugh bubbled up, half-hysterical. "Of course. Of course 'e would. 'Arry Potter cannot just be normal, can 'e? 'E must be 'ero. Must save ze world. Must go to *space*—"
Something screamed through the sky.
Gabrielle's head snapped up. A streak of light—violet, brilliant, like a piece of the sunset given velocity—was falling toward the academy. Not falling, she realized. *Descending*. With purpose and direction, adjusting its trajectory as it came.
It hit the gardens with an impact that shook her dormitory, sending rose bushes flying and cracking the elaborate fountain Madame Maxime was so proud of.
Gabrielle didn't think. She just ran.
Down four flights of stairs, through the elegant corridors, past confused students emerging from their rooms. Out into the gardens where the air still smelled like ozone and burning stone.
The crater was small but deep, smoking slightly. And at its center—
*Oh.*
A ring.
Not gold like a wedding band, not silver like jewelry. This was something else entirely. Violet light pulsed from it in waves, and Gabrielle felt something in her chest *respond*. Her Veela senses, usually so focused on her absent mate, were suddenly screaming about this too. About possibility. About *love*.
She descended into the crater carefully, her new curves making the climb more awkward than it would have been a month ago. Up close, the ring was beautiful—intricate designs covering its surface, symbols that seemed to shift and change as she watched.
And it was speaking.
Not in words. In *feelings*. Love—desperate, passionate, all-consuming love. The kind of love that moved mountains. The kind of love that destroyed kingdoms or saved them. The kind of love that Veela understood in their very bones.
"What are you?" Gabrielle whispered, reaching out.
The ring rose from the crater floor, floating, orienting itself toward her outstretched hand.
*Gabrielle Delacour of Earth,* a voice said—feminine, ancient, resonating with an emotion so pure it hurt. *You have great love in your heart. You belong to the Violet Lantern Corps.*
"Violet Lantern?" Gabrielle breathed.
*The Star Sapphires. We are love incarnate. We are passion given form. We are the binding force that holds the universe together.* The ring drifted closer. *Your mate is far away. Your heart aches with his absence. We understand this pain, Gabrielle Delacour. We are *made* of this pain.*
*Will you join us? Will you become a warrior of love?*
Behind her, Gabrielle heard shouts—students and teachers responding to the impact. Madame Maxime's voice, demanding to know what happened. Fleur would hear about this. Would tell her not to be rash, to think carefully, to be *patient*.
But Gabrielle was tired of patience.
Her mate was in space, learning to be a hero.
And something—fate, destiny, the universe itself—had just offered her the chance to follow him.
"*Oui,*" Gabrielle whispered, and slipped the ring onto her finger. "Yes, I will join you."
Violet light *exploded* from the ring, enveloping her in a cocoon of pure love. Gabrielle gasped as power flooded through her—different from Veela magic, stronger, *vast*. The ring was showing her things: other Star Sapphires across the universe, all of them connected by love. A planet called Zamaron where the violet light originated. And a path—a way to reach other Lanterns.
A way to reach Harry Potter.
The light faded, and Gabrielle stood in her crater wearing a uniform of violet and black, intricate and beautiful, the Star Sapphire emblem blazing on her chest. Her Veela features were even more pronounced now, enhanced by the ring's power until she looked like love itself given form.
Madame Maxime reached the crater's edge and stopped dead, her massive form swaying slightly.
"Mademoiselle Delacour," the headmistress said faintly. "What 'ave you done?"
Gabrielle looked down at her ring, feeling its power pulse in time with her heartbeat. Feeling, for the first time since her maturity, like she wasn't helpless. Like she had agency. Like she could *do* something about the mate-bond that was tearing her apart from the inside.
She smiled—and it was her sister's smile, confident and fierce.
"I 'ave become a Star Sapphire," Gabrielle said. "And I am going to find my love."
The ring pulsed with approval, and Gabrielle knew—with the certainty that came from both Veela instincts and cosmic power—that everything had just changed.
*For love of all, in blinding light,*
*We forge our bonds, in love's true might.*
*Let those who try to stop love's flight,*
*Beware our power—Star Sapphire's light!*
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