Moving Forward: Chapter 37

Note: All characters involved in this fic are above the age of consent.

Harry’s hands slid down Cassie’s sides, his fingers brushing the bare skin of her hips as he tugged her closer. The firelight danced across their bodies, casting a warm glow over the tangle of limbs and discarded clothes.

Cassie’s breath caught in her throat as he pressed his manhood against her, the heat of him searing against her bare skin. She could feel every inch of him—hard, ready, and aching for her—and it sent a jolt of need straight through her core.

“Damn, Cassie,” Harry groaned, his voice rough as he kissed her hard. His lips crashed into hers, hungry and insistent, while his hands roamed lower, gripping her thighs. “You drive me crazy, you know that?”

She grinned against his mouth, her fingers tightening in his messy hair. “Good. Now do something about it.”

He didn’t need any more encouragement. With a low growl, Harry shifted his weight, nudging her legs apart with his knee. Cassie let out a soft gasp as he settled between her thighs, his erection pressing firmly against her wanton core. She arched her hips up to meet him, desperate for more contact, and he cursed under his breath.

“Fuck, you’re impatient tonight,” he teased, nipping at her bottom lip. His hand slipped between them, his fingers brushing over her slick heat, testing her readiness. She was already soaked, and the discovery made his eyes darken with lust.

“Harry,” she whined, squirming under his touch. “Don’t tease. Not now.”

“Alright, alright,” he chuckled, but there was an edge to his voice—like he was barely holding himself together. He lined himself up, the tip of his cock nudging against her entrance, and paused just long enough to look into her eyes. “You’re ready?”

“Harry, if you don’t fuck me right now, I swear—”

Her words cut off with a sharp moan as he thrust into her, filling her completely in one smooth motion. The stretch was perfect, intense, and she clenched around him instinctively. Harry groaned, his head dropping to her shoulder as he fought to steady himself.

“Shit, you feel so good,” he muttered, his breath hot against her neck. He started moving, slow at first, letting her adjust, but it didn’t take long for the pace to pick up. Cassie wrapped her legs around his waist, pulling him deeper, and he took the hint.

“Harder,” she demanded, her nails raking down his back. “I need it, Harry.”

He didn’t hesitate, knowing she truly needed this right now. His hips snapped forward, driving into her with a force that made the bed creak beneath them. Cassie cried out, her hands gripping his shoulders as pleasure sparked through her. Every thrust sent a wave of heat crashing over her, building fast and relentless.

“Like that?” Harry asked, his voice strained. He propped himself up on one arm, watching her face as he pounded into her. Sweat beaded on his forehead, and his hair stuck to his skin, but he didn’t slow down. “Tell me what you want, Cass.”

“More,” she gasped, meeting his thrusts with her own. “Don’t stop. Please don’t stop.”

He grinned, a little wild, and shifted his angle just enough to hit that spot inside her that made her see stars. Cassie’s head fell back, a loud moan ripping from her throat as he kept going, relentless and fierce. Her whole body was on fire, every nerve screaming with pleasure as her lover pounded into her with everything he’d got.

“Harry—oh fuck, right there,” she panted, her fingers digging into his ass to urge him on. He grunted in response, his rhythm faltering for a second as he adjusted his grip on her hips, lifting her slightly off the bed.

“Got you,” he rasped, slamming into her even harder. The new angle had her trembling, her thighs shaking as she clung to him. “You’re so fucking tight—shit, I’m not gonna last if you keep squeezing me like that.”

“Then don’t,” she shot back, breathless and bold. “Come with me. I want to feel you come with me!”

Her words flipped a switch in him. Harry’s thrusts grew erratic, desperate, and he slipped a hand between them, finding her clit with his thumb. He rubbed fast, rough circles, matching the frantic pace of his hips. Cassie’s moans turned into a string of curses, her body tensing as the pressure coiled tighter and tighter.

“Harry—fuck, I’m close,” she warned, her voice breaking. Her legs tightened around him, locking him in place as she chased that edge.

“Me too,” he gritted out, his face buried in her neck. “Come on, Cass. Let go for me.”

That was all it took. The orgasm hit her like a freight train, ripping through her with a force that left her gasping. She clenched hard around him, her whole body shuddering as wave after wave of pleasure crashed over her. Harry groaned her name, his thrusts stuttering as he followed her over the edge. She felt him pulse inside her, hot and deep, and it dragged her climax out even longer.

For a moment, they just stayed there, panting and tangled together, his weight pressing her into the mattress. Harry’s forehead rested against hers, his breath ragged as he tried to pull himself together. Cassie’s hands slid up his back, softer now, tracing lazy patterns over his damp skin.

“Merlin,” he mumbled finally, lifting his head to look at her. His hair was an even bigger mess than usual, his breathing labored, and she couldn’t help but laugh.

“You okay there, stud?” she teased, brushing his hair back from his face.

He smirked, still catching his breath. “More than okay. You?”

“Very satisfied,” she said, stretching beneath him with a contented sigh. “You’re good at this whole ‘making me feel something else’ thing.”

“Happy to be of service.” He kissed her softly, lingering for a moment before pulling out of her with a quiet groan. She whimpered at the loss, but he didn’t go far—just rolled onto his side and pulled her against his chest.

Cassie nestled into him, her cheek pressed to his heartbeat. “That was… wow.”

“Yeah,” he agreed, his arm tightening around her. “Wow’s about right.”

They lay there in the afterglow, the crackle of the fire filling the silence. Her body still buzzed with the remnants of pleasure, and she could feel the soreness starting to settle in—a good kind of ache. Harry’s fingers brushed through her hair, his touch gentle and calming.

“You sure you’re okay?” he asked after a while, his voice quieter now. “After today, I mean.”

She tilted her head to meet his eyes, smiling softly. “I am now. You’ve got a way of fixing me, you know.”

“Same goes for you,” he said, pressing a kiss to her forehead. “Always.”

Cassie snuggled closer, letting the warmth of him and the moment wrap around her. Indeed, whatever chaos waited outside, they all had this—this heat, this connection they shared, and the love they all felt for each other. And it was more than enough.

XXXXX

Harry woke up slowly, the soft light of morning creeping through the curtains. His body ached in that good way, muscles loose and heavy from the night before. He blinked, feeling the warmth of skin pressed against his chest and legs tangled with his own. A slow smile spread across his face as he registered Cassie curled into him, her dark hair fanned out over his arm, her breath steady and warm against his neck. She was still out cold, one arm slung across his waist like she was staking a claim even in sleep.

But then he felt it—another body pressed against his back, softer curves molding into him, a leg hooked over his thigh from behind. His heart gave a little jump, surprised but not displeased. Tilting his head just enough, he caught a glimpse of blonde hair spilling over the pillow.

Daphne.

She must’ve slipped in sometime after he’d crashed, joining the pile of limbs without a word. He couldn’t help the quiet chuckle that slipped out. These witches—he loved them, every single one, and waking up like this only made that clearer. His chest felt full, a steady glow of affection settling in as he lay there, sandwiched between two of the people he’d fight the world for.

He shifted slightly, careful not to wake them, just taking it in. Cassie’s familiar weight on his left, Daphne’s gentle grip on his right—it was messy and perfect. His hand rested on Cassie’s hip, thumb brushing over her bare skin, while his other arm stretched back to find Daphne’s waist, pulling her a little closer. He didn’t care how they’d ended up like this; he was just glad they had.

A soft hum broke the quiet, and he felt Daphne stir. Her breath hitched, then evened out as she nuzzled her face into the crook of his neck. Harry turned his head, catching her sleepy blue eyes blinking open. She gave him a lazy smile, all soft edges and warmth, and his heart did that stupid flip it always did when she looked at him like that. Before he could say anything, she leaned in, pressing her lips to his in a tender, unhurried kiss. It was slow and sweet, the kind that said more than words ever could.

Harry’s hand slid up her side, his fingers tracing the dip of her waist and the curve of her ribs as he pulled her tighter against him. Her skin was warm under his touch, smooth and bare, and he let his hands wander—over her hip, along her thigh, and back up her front to her shoulder. She melted into him, her own hand slipping into his messy hair, tugging just enough to keep him close. The kiss deepened for a moment, a quiet hunger waking up between them, but it stayed gentle, relaxed, content.

When they finally pulled back, Daphne rested her forehead against his, her breath mingling with his. “Morning,” she murmured, her voice still thick with sleep.

“Morning,” he echoed, grinning as he brushed a strand of hair from her face. “When’d you sneak in?”

“Late,” she admitted, stretching a little against him. “Couldn’t sleep alone after… everything. Needed you.”

Harry’s grin softened, and he pressed a quick kiss to her nose. “Glad you did.”

They lay there for a bit, Cassie still snoring softly against his chest, oblivious to the world. Daphne’s fingers traced idle patterns over his chest, her touch light but steady. After a while, she propped herself up on one elbow, looking down at him with those sharp eyes that always saw too much.

“You holding up okay?” she asked, keeping her voice low. “After yesterday, I mean.”

Harry let out a slow breath, his hand gently stroking her lower back. “Yeah. Mostly. Still pissed he got away, but… I’ll get over it. You?”

Daphne nodded, her lips pressing into a thin line for a second. “Same. Felt good to fight, though. To do something. Watching Nat work on them after—it hit me how close we came to losing more people.”

“Yeah,” Harry agreed, his thumb rubbing small circles against her skin. “Seeing those two pull through… that’s what matters. And having you all there—fighting with me—it keeps me sane.”

She smiled, a real one this time, and leaned down to kiss his lips. “You’re stuck with us, Potter. No getting rid of me or Cass or Trace—or any of them.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” he said, pulling her back down so she was half-draped over him. Her weight was comforting, familiar, and he let himself relax into it. “You were bloody brilliant out there, you know. Holding the line like that.”

Daphne shrugged, but her cheeks pinked up a little. “Had to. Couldn’t let those bastards get past me. And you—” She poked his chest. “Don’t think I didn’t see you pulling that crazy stunt with Greyback. Nearly gave me a heart attack.”

Harry laughed, quiet enough not to wake Cassie. “Had to keep him busy. Couldn’t let him get to you.”

Her expression softened, and she rested her chin on his chest, looking up at him. “You’re too good at this, you know. Taking care of everyone.”

“Says the witch who wouldn’t let anyone near those professors,” he shot back, grinning. “We’re a team, Daph. Always will be.”

“Damn right,” she said, snuggling closer. Her hand found his, lacing their fingers together. “Just… don’t carry it all yourself, okay? I know you. You’ll stew over what we couldn’t fix instead of what we did.”

Harry squeezed her hand, nodding. “I’ll try. Promise. Having you here helps. Both of you.”

Daphne’s eyes flicked to Cassie, still dead to the world, and she smirked. “She’s out like a rock. Guess you wore her out last night.”

He snorted, cheeks heating up. “Oi, you weren’t complaining when you climbed in.”

“Never said I was,” she teased, kissing him again—quick and playful this time. “Just saying she’s lucky I didn’t wake her up for round two.”

Harry groaned, mock-dramatic, and tugged her down until she was laughing against his chest. “You’re trouble, Greengrass.”

“And you love me,” she fired back, settling into him with a contented sigh.

He did. Merlin, he did.

XXXXX

The living room of Number 12 Grimmauld Place buzzed with mid-morning chatter. It was a bright day, and the sunlight poured through the windows, lighting up the room.

Daphne sat next to Astoria on one of the couches, their mother Evelyn perched on the armrest. They talked quietly, glancing now and then toward the door. Fleur lounged in an armchair, playing with her wand while Tracey talked enthusiastically about something, hands flying everywhere. Nym leaned against the fireplace, her hair shifting between blue and purple as she chatted with Susan, who sat cross-legged on the floor with her tea, leaning against the wall.

Narcissa and Andromeda shared the window seat, heads close together in conversation. A few months ago, seeing them like this would've been impossible. Cassie stood nearby, keeping an eye on everyone. Amelia was by the fireplace, going through some papers, her monocle flashing in the light.

Everyone was waiting for the same person, and the wait didn’t last long.

When Harry walked in, everyone went quiet. He crossed the room and dropped into an empty chair, running his fingers through his messy hair. Daphne's eyes softened as she watched him, and Fleur straightened slightly in her seat, a small smile playing on her lips.

"Everyone's here. Good," Amelia said, tossing her papers on a side table. Harry's arrival was her signal to start. "Let me update you on what the DMLE's done since yesterday. We've put up extra wards around magical villages, especially isolated ones like Willow's End. Doubled the Auror patrols too. And now there's an official kill-on-sight order for Greyback."

Daphne snorted. "Sorry, but that's useless. Greyback was already wanted. What's another piece of paper going to do? He'll just keep hiding until he's ready to attack again."

"Daphne," Evelyn said in a warning tone, but Daphne wasn't having it.

"No, Mum, we need to be real about this. We won't beat Greyback with some fancy ministerial order. We need to take away his power base completely."

Amelia raised an eyebrow, looking at Daphne with interest. "And what exactly do you mean by that, Daphne?"

Harry gave Daphne an encouraging nod, his eyes conveying a silent trust that made her straighten her shoulders.

Daphne straightened, her ice-blue eyes focused and intense. "Greyback is too good at hiding and fleeing. It's not easy to just find and kill him—we saw that yesterday. What we should be doing is psychological warfare."

"Sounds interesting. Go on," Fleur encouraged, leaning forward in her seat.

"Instead of just waiting for him to strike again, we use propaganda, fear, and reputation against him," Daphne explained. "Make sure word spreads that Greyback lost most of his pack, and that Harry Potter personally saved people from the curse of being turned when his pack attacked them."

Tracey snapped her fingers. "Use fear and boost Harry's reputation at the same time. Sounds wicked!"

"Exactly," Daphne nodded. "Destabilize recruitment to Greyback's cause. Maybe even fake a message or betrayal that divides his remaining forces."

The room fell silent as everyone considered her words.

"It's not a bad idea," Amelia admitted after a moment. "But how would we implement something like this effectively?"

"We'd need to control the narrative," Susan spoke up, setting her teacup aside. "The Daily Prophet would be the obvious choice, but they're unreliable at best, even with Fudge in our pockets."

"The Quibbler," Astoria suggested. "Luna's father runs it. He would publish whatever we want, no questions asked."

“Luna?”

“She’s in my year. In Ravenclaw,” Astoria explained.

"No offense, Tori, but does anyone actually read that paper?" Tracey asked skeptically.

"More than you'd think," Astoria replied. "And people are drawn to stories about Harry, whether they want to admit it or not. If we plant the right information there, other publications will pick it up."

"We could add anonymous tips to the Prophet as well," Nym suggested, her hair settling into a shade of dark blue. "I have contacts there who wouldn't question the source too closely."

Andromeda, who had been listening carefully, leaned forward. "This is all well and good, but is spreading propaganda really the most ethical approach? We're supposed to be better than the Dark Lord and his followers."

"This isn't about ethics, Mother," Daphne said, her voice firm. "This is about saving lives. Greyback has killed and turned countless people. If undermining his reputation means fewer victims, I'm willing to do it."

"I agree with Daphne," Astoria said quietly. "Sometimes you have to fight fire with fire."

"Not fire," Harry corrected. "Something smarter. Targeted. Precise."

Fleur nodded approvingly. "We need to lean into symbolic victories. Publicly show that Harry saved the professors."

"Speaking of which," Cassie interjected, "how are they doing?"

"Nat says they'll recover fully," Tracey replied. "They're awake and coherent this morning. Professor Babbling hasn't left their side."

"That's good to hear," Amelia said. "And you're right, Fleur. If those professors begin speaking out in support of Harry, it could be powerful."

"We could present Harry not just as a warrior," Daphne suggested, "but as a protector, strategist, and savior—the people's chosen one, not just Dumbledore's so-called weapon."

Harry shifted uncomfortably at this. "I really don't want to be some propaganda piece."

"Too late for that," Daphne remarked dryly. "You've been a propaganda piece since you were in nappies. At least this time, it's on our terms."

"She's right," Narcissa added, her voice cool and collected. "You've been used as a symbol by others for years. It's time you controlled how your image is utilized, more than you already have."

Harry frowned but didn't argue further.

"How would we fake a betrayal within Greyback's ranks?" Susan asked, steering the conversation back to strategy.

"We'd need to identify his closest allies first," Amelia replied. "Then find a way to plant information that would make him suspicious of them."

"Or," Nym suggested, "we could make it look like one of them has been feeding us information. Greyback is paranoid enough to believe it."

Fleur drummed her fingers on the armrest. "That could backfire. If he suspects a traitor, he might just kill everyone around him. That makes him more dangerous, not less."

"That might not be a bad thing," Harry said slowly. "If he's isolated, he's weaker."

"Unless he goes on a rampage out of desperation," Evelyn cautioned.

"We need to be careful not to push him too far too fast," Amelia agreed. "A controlled destabilization would be preferable."

Daphne tapped her chin thoughtfully. "What if we focus on making his followers doubt him instead? Spread stories about how he abandoned his pack during the fight, how he fled while they died."

"Did he actually do that?" Astoria asked.

"Not exactly," Harry admitted. "But he did escape while leaving them behind."

"Close enough for our purposes," Daphne said dismissively.

"I don't know," Susan frowned. "Lying outright might not be the best approach. We should stick to exaggerated truths rather than complete fabrications."

"Susan's right," Amelia nodded. "It's easier to maintain consistency that way. And if we're caught in an outright lie, it undermines everything else we say."

"Fine," Daphne conceded. "But we still emphasize that he left his pack to die while he escaped."

"That works," Harry agreed. "And we highlight how many of his followers we took down. Make potential recruits think twice about joining him."

"We could also spread rumors about silver weapons," Fleur suggested. "Make him paranoid about how we're hunting him."

"I like that," Nym grinned, her hair flashing bright for a moment. "Fear is a powerful motivator."

"What about reaching out to the werewolf community directly?" Andromeda proposed. "Not all werewolves follow Greyback. Many despise him for what he's done to their reputation."

"That's an excellent point," Amelia said. "If we could get Remus Lupin involved—"

"No," Harry cut in sharply. "I don't want Remus anywhere near this. It's too dangerous."

"Harry," Nym said gently, "Remus is already involved whether you like it or not. He's a werewolf, and he has connections we don't."

"She's right," Narcissa added. "Using Lupin would give us credibility with the werewolf community that we can't achieve otherwise."

Harry's jaw clenched. "I'll talk to him, but I won't ask him to put himself at risk. That's final."

A part of him was also not fully sure that Remus would pick him over Dumbledore after everything that had happened.

"Fair enough," Amelia conceded. "Now, let's discuss our public approach. How do we want to frame yesterday's events?"

"We emphasize that it was a rescue mission," Daphne suggested. "That we went in to save innocent people, not just to kill werewolves."

"And we stress that Harry specifically stopped the dark curse from spreading," Fleur added. "Show that he's not just fighting against darkness, but actively saving people from it."

"That plays well against Greyback's image," Tracey nodded. "He spreads the curse; Harry contains it."

"Light versus dark," Astoria murmured. "People understand that narrative."

"We should use Lucius to our advantage too," Narcissa said, her voice suddenly cold. "His capture matters."

"Does it?" Harry asked. "He barely looks like himself anymore. Will anyone even believe it's him?"

"We can prove it's him," Amelia assured them. "Having a high-ranking Death Eater locked up is a big win, even considering his... condition."

Narcissa's hand brushed Harry's shoulder as she moved to pour herself tea, the brief contact seemingly casual but intentional. "The information we got from him yesterday will be useful," she added.

"What about the professors?" Susan asked. "Once they recover, will they speak publicly about what happened?"

"That's up to them," Harry replied. "I won't pressure them either way."

"Perhaps Bathsheda would be willing," Evelyn suggested. "She seemed quite grateful yesterday."

"It would be powerful," Daphne agreed. "A Hogwarts professor publicly thanking Harry Potter for saving her colleagues from both werewolves and dark magic."

"Speaking of which," Cassie spoke up, "we should consider sending someone back to Hogwarts. If Greyback attacked Hogwarts professors, the school might be a target in the near future."

"Dumbledore can handle the school's security," Harry said dismissively.

"Can he?" Narcissa raised an elegant eyebrow. "He didn't prevent those professors from being attacked in the first place, or whatever’s been happening there over the past few years."

"They weren't at Hogwarts when it happened," Harry pointed out. "They were in Willow's End for some leisure. And I don’t think he targeted the professors. Rather, they happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time."

The less said about the events during his presence at Hogwarts, the better it was.

"Still," Amelia frowned, "Cassie raises a valid concern. Hogwarts can be a target, even if you won’t be there anymore. We should at least send word to Minerva about what happened."

"I'll take care of that," Andromeda offered.

"Thank you," Amelia nodded. "Now, back to our propaganda strategy. We need to decide on key messages and how to distribute them."

"The core message should be simple," Daphne said. "Harry Potter and his allies are actively fighting against Greyback and winning. Greyback's forces are decimated. Joining him is a death sentence."

"And for the broader public," Fleur added, "we emphasize hope. Harry is protecting people, saving them from curses, preventing transformations."

"That's good," Amelia agreed. "Hope for the public, fear for potential recruits."

"What about a name?" Tracey piped up. "For our group, I mean. Something catchy that people can get behind."

"Do we seriously need that?" Harry groaned.

"Yeah, we do," Daphne said, leaning forward. "It gives people something to believe in, something to talk about."

"Potter's Army," Astoria suggested with a grin.

"No way in hell," Harry said flatly.

"There's already the Order of the Phoenix," Susan reminded them.

"We're not the Order," Harry shot back. "We do things our way."

"How about 'The Resistance'?" Nym suggested, moving to sit on the arm of Harry's chair, her knee lightly touching his shoulder.

Tracey made a face. "Too boring."

"We don't need a name," Harry insisted. "This isn't some school club."

"Harry might have a point," Evelyn said smoothly. "Having a name could make it seem like we're competing with the Order instead of focusing on Greyback."

Daphne caught Fleur's eye across the room, and they shared a small smile at Harry's predictable resistance to being the center of attention.

"Fine," Daphne conceded. "But we still need to present a united front in public."

"Agreed," Narcissa said. "Which brings me to our next point: public appearances. Harry, you need to be seen."

Harry's expression soured. "You want me to parade around Diagon Alley or something?"

"Not exactly," Narcissa replied. "But strategic appearances would help. Perhaps visiting St. Mungo's to check on victims of previous attacks. Show that you care about the aftermath, not just the fighting."

"That's actually not a bad idea," Harry admitted grudgingly.

"We could accompany you," Fleur suggested. "Show that you have support from different magical backgrounds."

"A French part-Veela, a pureblood Slytherin, and the Boy Who Lived," Tracey mused. "That's quite the image."

"Don't forget me," Nym grinned, her hair cycling through rainbow colors briefly. "Nothing says unity like a Metamorphmagus."

"This is starting to sound like a circus," Harry muttered.

"Politics often is," Narcissa remarked smoothly. "But appearances matter."

"What about security?" Susan asked. "If Harry starts making public appearances, he becomes a target."

"He already is a target," Daphne pointed out.

"Even more of one," Susan insisted. "And now Greyback has a personal grudge against him."

"We'll ensure appropriate security measures," Amelia assured her niece. "No public appearance without proper planning and protection."

"I can handle myself," Harry said firmly.

"No one doubts that," Evelyn said gently. "But being cautious isn't the same as being afraid."

Harry didn't look convinced but nodded anyway.

"What about the Ministry's official position?" Andromeda asked, turning to Amelia. "Will they support this approach?"

Amelia's expression hardened slightly. "The official position is that Greyback is to be captured or killed on sight. Anything beyond that... well, let's just say that what the Minister doesn't know won't hurt him."

"So, we're operating in a gray area," Cassie noted.

"Wouldn't be the first time," Harry remarked dryly.

"There's another aspect we haven't discussed," Daphne said. "Lucius Malfoy. What are we doing with him?"

All eyes turned to Narcissa, who met their gazes unflinchingly. "He will face justice for his crimes. All of them."

"The Ministry would want him handed over once we reveal him. Fudge will throw a tantrum, no matter how much he needs us," Amelia said carefully. “Even now, he’s sometimes complaining about Umbridge, trying to test the waters, mostly.”

“I thought what we did would’ve been enough to keep Fudge quiet,” Harry muttered. “But if he keeps acting up, we might need to accelerate the replacement plans.”

"That’s something to be discussed later. Handing over Lucius for the Ministry to send him to Azkaban, from which the Dark Lord will promptly free him?" Narcissa shook her head. "I think not."

"So what's the plan for him?" Cassie asked firmly.

"Now that we've gotten what we needed from him," Narcissa said coolly, "we ensure he can never hurt anyone again."

The room went quiet as everyone absorbed what she was suggesting.

"We don't just execute people," Evelyn said quietly.

"Maybe you don't," Narcissa muttered.

"Evelyn has a point," Amelia said firmly. "We need boundaries, or we're no different than them."

"Some things are worse than death," Narcissa replied. "Lucius is going to be learning that firsthand."

"We've got the information we needed," Harry said, ending the argument before it heated up. "He's not going anywhere from that cellar."

"Fine," Narcissa agreed, her eyes still cold. Under the table, Fleur reached over and squeezed Narcissa's hand briefly, offering silent support.

"Back to Greyback," Tracey said, redirecting the conversation. "How do we measure success with our psychological warfare approach? How will we know if it's working?"

"Decreased attacks would be one indicator," Amelia replied. "And intelligence reports of discord among his followers."

"We'd need better intelligence networks for that," Nym pointed out.

"I'm working on it," Amelia assured her. "But these things take time."

"Time we may not have," Harry said grimly.

"All the more reason to start implementing these strategies immediately," Daphne responded. "I can draft some initial messaging today."

"I'll help," Fleur offered.

"And I can make contact with some of my former associates," Narcissa added. "There are still those who owe me favors, even after my... change in circumstances."

"I need to return to the Ministry soon," Amelia said, checking her watch. "But before I go, we should finalize our immediate actions."

"I'll speak to Luna's father about The Quibbler," Astoria volunteered.

"Fleur and I will draft a narrative for public consumption," Daphne said.

"I'll coordinate with the Auror office about security for any public appearances," Nym added.

"And I'll check on the professors," Tracey offered. "See if they're willing to make any statements."

"Good," Amelia nodded approvingly. "Andromeda, could you please contact Minerva about Hogwarts security?"

"Of course."

"I'll help Nat with the patients," Susan said. "I've been studying healing charms."

"What about me?" Evelyn asked.

"You and I could help draft correspondence to some of the neutral families and old associates," Narcissa suggested. "Our social connections could be valuable."

Evelyn nodded, seemingly satisfied with the task.

"And when we’re done, I," Narcissa said coolly, gazing at Harry meaningfully, "will be ready with my former husband's punishment."

Harry glanced at her knowingly, and he gave her a firm nod. "Fair enough."

"Alright then," Fleur said, standing up. "We all know what we need to do. Let's get to it."

As people started to leave, Daphne grabbed Harry's arm. "Think this'll work?" she asked quietly.

Harry looked straight into her eyes. "It has to. I won't let Greyback hurt anyone else."

"We've got your back," she told him, her hand lingering on his arm. "All of us."

Harry nodded, his face softening a bit. "I know. That's why I think we might actually pull this off."

Across the room, Amelia watched them with interest. The group worked together surprisingly well, everyone bringing something different to the table. No telling if their plan would work, but one thing was clear: Greyback had never dealt with a team like this before.

"Auntie?" Susan nudged her. "You okay?"

Amelia smiled at her niece. "Just fine. I was thinking Greyback has no idea what's coming for him."

Susan looked over at Harry, now with Fleur at his side and Nym's hand on his shoulder, while Daphne stood close by. The women moved around him with a natural familiarity that spoke volumes about the deep connection they shared.

"No," Susan agreed with a small smile. "He really doesn't."

To be continued...