In the Forbidden Forest—
the battle finally came to an end.
Herpo the Foul, unable to withstand the combined assault of Albus Dumbledore and the others, was forced to retreat.
The barrier collapsed.
His followers scattered.
His plan—
to reclaim his main soul—
was utterly crushed.
All because of one variable:
Sean.
"Severus, take Coates back to the castle."
"Hagrid, check on the centaurs."
"Minerva, with me—we return to the competition grounds."
Even knowing the Hidden Valley trap had been neutralized—
Dumbledore didn't take chances.
Back in the forest—
Sean B found the Ilvermorny trophy exactly where Sean A had said.
High in a tree canopy.
He checked the time.
"…He made it."
At the castle—
Sean A arrived just in time to see Severus Snape escorting Coates away.
Of all people… him.
No time to dwell.
Sean rushed into Snape's office—
opened the drawer—
grabbed the Time-Turner.
4:50.
He turned it.
And vanished.
The clock—
kept ticking forward.
No reversal.
No distortion.
Because the loop—
had closed perfectly.
Sean A didn't disappear.
He merged.
Back into Sean B.
Two timelines—
one existence again.
In the forest—
Sean felt it.
That hour—
had been rewritten.
Not just success—
but salvation.
More meaningful than any trophy.
Nearby—
Barty Crouch Sr. confronted Dumbledore.
"I want an explanation."
"About Sean Grylls."
They moved aside.
Spoke privately.
From afar—
others could only see Crouch's expression change—
again and again—
into shock.
"…That dark wizard… is truly alive?"
"Yes."
"And if he regains his main soul…"
"Even I may not be able to stop him."
Crouch stiffened.
"The artifact should be handed to the Ministry."
Dumbledore shook his head.
"No."
"Hogwarts is safer."
"The Aurors will crush any dark force," Crouch insisted.
Dumbledore smiled faintly.
"Hogwarts has me."
Silence.
That sentence—
said everything.
"Oh—and the Time-Turner."
"You won't report it… will you?"
Crouch replied flatly:
"I don't want to be involved."
"But remember—"
"If anything happens to my daughter…"
"I won't be lenient."
Dumbledore chuckled softly.
One problem—
avoided.
Far away—
Herpo seethed.
"Dumbledore… troublesome."
A second voice whispered beneath his hood:
"I told you not to underestimate Hogwarts."
"Then give me something useful."
"…I might have one idea."
Back in Hidden Valley—
Sean exhaled deeply.
Hagrid was alive.
Mick was alive.
That was enough.
The championship?
Just a bonus.
The competition resumed—
but chaos ruled.
Teams split.
Encounters happened constantly.
Matthew and Jerry—
finally found their own team's trophy.
Hope returned—
Then—
Claven appeared.
And ruined everything.
Guerrilla attacks.
Constant interference.
Elsewhere—
Anduin and Gurila eliminated Zack—
only to be taken out themselves by Ilvermorny.
Battle after battle.
By nightfall—
the forest was pitch black.
No one expected a winner yet.
High above—
Sean flew.
On his back—
Penelope.
"Honestly… you're heavier than you look."
"…Shut up and fly."
Even mid-air—
she snapped back instantly.
With a bit of "cheating"—
Sean found both trophies.
Ilvermorny's.
Then—
Hogwarts'.
But the team—
had collapsed.
Charlie—eliminated.
Others—gone.
Only two remained:
Sean.
Penelope.
Meanwhile—
Matthew and Jerry struggled forward—
still harassed by Claven.
Then—
a signal.
White light.
The match—
ended.
They froze.
"…What?"
All that effort—
all that struggle—
for nothing.
Back at camp—
celebration erupted.
Ravenclaw students cheered:
"Penelope!"
Even Filius Flitwick smiled proudly.
Slytherin roared:
"Sean!"
Lights blazed through the night.
The celebration lasted until dawn.
Later—
Sean returned a wand.
To christina crouch.
And quietly told her—
part of the truth.
"Herpo?"
She frowned.
"I've never heard of him."
"You don't need to."
"Just know this—"
"He's worse than Lord Voldemort."
Her eyes widened.
"…That's impossible."
Sean didn't argue.
"Don't tell anyone."
"Not even Cassius."
Chris nodded seriously.
Because everyone knew—
Cassius—
had the loosest mouth in Hogwarts.
That night—
Sean lay awake.
He had changed fate.
Saved lives.
And won a championship.
But deep down—
he knew—
This was only the beginning.
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