The Room of Requirement pulsed with power. Harry had transformed it into a command center—enchanted with Founders' wards, goblin security, and StarkTech holographic displays.
"Let's begin," he said to Argent and Echo, who now wore custom-built tactical armor.
Files unfolded in the air. Documents stolen from Dumbledore's office. Goblin-led audits of the Potter and Black vaults. Ministry records, bloodline charts, magical contracts—dozens of secrets woven into a grand web.
And in the center?
Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore.
"You stole from your own vaults… lied about my parents' will… forged guardianship papers… paid the Dursleys to abuse me… and bound my magic," Harry whispered.
"And you manipulated prophecy to raise a weapon."
One file pulsed red.
Subject: Blood Binding Contract – 'The Greater Good' Initiative
Authorized by: Dumbledore
Target: Harry James Potter
Purpose: Obedience through Magical Suppression, Loyalty Conditioning, and Memory Seals**
Harry's eyes burned.
"And you dared call it love."
The Great Hall – Next Day
Breakfast seemed normal—until the enchanted ceiling cracked with thunder and a giant spectral screen lit up behind the teachers' table.
"Good morning, Hogwarts," Harry's voice boomed. "Today, we learn the truth."
Students gasped. Professors shouted.
The screen showed Dumbledore's sealed records, magically authenticated. Testimonies from goblins, portraits, even a few surviving Order members who'd defected. Blood-stained copies of Lily and James' real will.
"They wanted Sirius to raise me."
Gasps. Whispers.
"Instead, Dumbledore had him imprisoned without trial."
McGonagall turned pale. Flitwick dropped his wand.
"And the money? The magic? My life? Stolen. All of it."
Then came the worst: a recorded Pensieve memory from Dumbledore's own office. His younger self, discussing the prophecy.
"We must prepare the boy to die at the right time. He must not know until the final moment."
The Hall was silent.
Harry stepped forward.
"I am not your weapon."
"You tried to make me your martyr."
"Now, you'll face justice."
Dumbledore rose slowly, wand in hand—but Harry flicked his fingers. A circle of runes surged around the old man.
Bound.
Powerless.
Broken.
"By ancient magic and multiversal authority," Harry declared, "you are stripped of your titles, your wand, and your false legacy."
He turned to the Hall.
"I'm taking back what was mine. And Hogwarts… is under new protection."
The phoenix screeched. The raptor growled. And lightning split the enchanted sky.