The excitement that had carried the British delegation across the Atlantic Ocean had long since vanished.
When they had first landed in America few weeks earlier, every member of the expedition had believed they would find Harry Potter within days. America was vast, certainly, but magical Britain had not sent fools. Damian Butler and William Perry had each selected experienced witches and wizards for the journey—people who knew how to gather information, track magical activity, and follow the smallest of clues.
The witches and wizards crossed the ocean with a single purpose.
Find Harry Potter.
Bring him home.
At the time, the task had seemed difficult, but far from impossible.
Now, after weeks of searching, it felt almost hopeless.
The small Muggle house they had rented on the outskirts of New York had slowly transformed into something resembling a military headquarters.
Every wall was covered with maps.Pins of different colors marked every location the group had already investigated. Sheets of parchment hung beside the maps, listing magical businesses, influential American wizarding families, potion suppliers, wandmakers, inns, and rumored safe houses.
There were reports stacked across every table.
Every scrap of information that might lead them to Harry Potter had been collected.
Unfortunately, every lead had ended the same way.
Nowhere.
The atmosphere inside the house had grown noticeably heavier with each passing day. Conversations that had once been lively and optimistic had become short and increasingly irritable. Even meals were eaten in near silence before everyone returned to searching maps that had already been examined dozens of times.
The strain finally reached its breaking point late one afternoon.
Damian Butler's representative strode into the sitting room carrying yet another report. The moment he finished reading it, he crumpled the parchment in his fist before throwing it violently across the room.
The parchment struck the wall and fluttered to the floor.
"Nothing!"
His voice echoed through the quiet house. He ran both hands through his hair before pacing across the room like a caged animal.
"There has to be something!"
Around the large dining table, several others looked up from their own reports.
William Perry's representative leaned back in his chair with a tired sigh.
"We've checked every magical settlement within three hundred miles of New York."
He reached for a notebook lying beside him and flipped through several pages.
"Every licensed apothecary."
"Every magical inn."
"We've questioned shopkeepers, curse-breakers, potion masters, traveling merchants, even people working for Gringotts."
He closed the notebook with a frustrated snap.
"And none of them have seen Harry Potter."
Another witch rubbed her temples.
"What about unofficial communities?"
"We've checked those too."
"They've never heard of him."
Silence settled over the room again.
One of the younger wizards finally spoke.
"Maybe he's already left New York."
Another immediately shook his head.
"If he had, someone would've noticed."
"Not necessarily."
"He isn't exactly subtle."
That drew a few bitter laughs.
Someone muttered, "Harry Potter subtle? That's a good one."
For a brief moment, the tension eased.
An older witch who had spent most of the previous week interviewing MACUSA officials folded her arms thoughtfully.
"Perhaps he changed his appearance."
It was an unpleasant possibility.
Polyjuice Potion.
Disillusionment Charms.
Permanent glamour enchantments.
Harry possessed enough knowledge to disappear completely if he truly wished to.
"It would explain why nobody recognizes him."
"But he still needs food."
"He still needs supplies."
"He can't vanish forever."
Across the room, Dennis Creevey remained silent.
Unlike everyone else, he wasn't staring at the maps.
He wasn't reading reports.
Instead, he sat quietly in the corner, watching the discussion unfold while turning a single thought over and over in his mind.
Something about their search felt wrong.
The more he thought about it, the more convinced he became that they had misunderstood Harry completely.
Dennis had never been one of Harry's closest friends.
Ron knew Harry better.
Hermione understood him better.
But Dennis had watched Harry for years.
He had watched him survive impossible situations.
Watched him solve problems nobody else could. Watched him repeatedly choose paths that no one expected.
Harry had never hidden in obvious places. He had never followed predictable patterns. Whenever everyone searched one direction. Harry somehow appeared somewhere else entirely.
Dennis remembered Hogwarts.
People searched classrooms.
Harry ended up beneath the castle.
People watched the corridors.
Harry climbed onto rooftops.
People assumed he would seek help from authority.
Instead, he often trusted complete strangers.
That realization refused to leave him.
Finally, Dennis pushed his chair back and stood.
"I think we're looking in the wrong place."
Nearly twenty pairs of eyes turned toward him.
Damian Butler's representative frowned.
"What do you mean?"
Dennis walked toward the largest map hanging on the wall.
Instead of looking at the pins already marking magical settlements, he studied the enormous blank spaces between them.
"We're assuming Harry stayed with wizards."
"Well..." someone replied, "...didn't he?"
Dennis slowly shook his head.
"No."
He looked back at the others.
"Think about it."
"He ran away from magical Britain."
"From the Ministry."
His gaze swept across the room.
"So why would he immediately move into another magical community?"
None of them had considered that question before.
Dennis continued.
"If I wanted to disappear..."
"I wouldn't hide exactly where everyone expected me to."
He tapped the map gently.
"We've spent weeks searching magical America."
"Exactly where every British wizard would search first."
One of the older witches crossed her arms.
"So where do you think he went?"
Dennis hesitated.
"I don't know."
"But somewhere unexpected.
Away from magical governments.
Away from people who would recognize his name.
Several people exchanged uncertain glances.
William Perry's representative rubbed his chin.
"...It's possible."
Damian's representative looked unconvinced.
"If he isn't with wizards..."
"Where is he?"
Dennis couldn't answer.
But for the first time since arriving in America...
He felt as though he was asking the right question.
Later that afternoon, Dennis quietly left the house by himself. He made certain nobody noticed his departure.
It wasn't that he distrusted the others. Many of them genuinely wanted to help Harry. Unfortunately...
Not all of them could.
During the voyage across the Atlantic, Dennis had overheard more conversations than anyone realized.
If Harry refused to return willingly...
They intended to force him.
They justified it by calling it necessity.
The rebellion needed Harry.
The people needed Harry.
Dennis disagreed completely. Nobody had the right to make that decision for him.
As he walked through the busy streets of New York, another memory surfaced.
Hermione.
She had spoken to him just before their ship departed Britain.
"If you find Harry first..."
She had looked directly into his eyes.
"...warn him."
Dennis had promised.
He intended to keep that promise.
If Harry chose to return. That decision would belong to Harry alone. Harry had earned the right to choose his own future.
Dennis only hoped he wasn't already too late.
Pulling his coat tighter against the cool afternoon breeze, he turned toward the towering headquarters of MACUSA rising proudly above the surrounding streets.
Unlike the others, he wasn't going there to ask whether anyone had seen Harry Potter.
If Harry Potter couldn't be found...
Perhaps the trail Harry always left behind could.
And Dennis intended to follow it.
The magnificent headquarters of MACUSA stood proudly in the heart of magical New York, its marble walls gleaming beneath enchanted lights that never seemed to dim.
Wizards and witches hurried through the spacious entrance hall carrying stacks of files, owls swooped between departments delivering official correspondence, and Aurors came and went with the brisk confidence of people accustomed to dealing with emergencies.
Dennis paused for a moment just inside the entrance.
Unlike the others who had spent the past several weeks questioning shopkeepers and wandering through magical settlements, he had come here with an entirely different objective.
He wasn't looking for Harry Potter.
Over the years, Dennis had noticed something that many others overlooked.
Harry never went searching for trouble. Trouble simply had an extraordinary habit of finding Harry.
Some people attracted wealth.
Others attracted fame.
Harry seemed to attract impossible situations.
Whether it was a troll inside Hogwarts, a basilisk beneath the school, escaped Death Eaters, dragons, Dementors, or corrupt politicians, Harry somehow found himself standing at the center of events that should never have involved him in the first place.
It wasn't because he sought danger. It was because Harry could never ignore people who needed help.
Dennis smiled faintly to himself as he approached the information counter.
An elderly witch wearing silver-rimmed spectacles looked up from a stack of parchment and offered him a polite smile.
"Good afternoon."
"Can I help you?"
Dennis returned the smile.
"I hope so."
"I'm researching unusual magical incidents that have taken place over the past several months."
The witch raised an eyebrow.
"For personal interest?"
"You could say that."
She studied him for a moment before nodding.
"One moment."
Turning toward a nearby cabinet, she withdrew several thick folders before returning to the counter.
"There have been quite a few unusual incidents recently."
She opened the first file.
"Most are fairly ordinary."
"Potion smuggling."
"Illegal broom racing."
"Black-market magical creatures."
She turned another page.
"Several cursed artifact investigations."
Dennis listened patiently.
Interesting...
But none of it sounded remotely connected to Harry.
The elderly witch continued flipping through reports until one particular file caught her attention.
She frowned slightly.
"This one was... rather unusual."
Dennis leaned forward.
"In what way?"
She adjusted her spectacles before reading aloud.
"A mysterious wizard repeatedly appeared near several incidents involving mutants."
Dennis felt his pulse quicken.
The witch continued reading.
"No confirmed identity."
"Highly skilled."
"Successfully avoided capture during multiple encounters with Aurors."
Dennis's heart beat just a little faster.
"What sort of incidents?"
She turned another page.
"Several magical disturbances linked to mutant activity."
Dennis frowned thoughtfully.
Mutants. He knew very little about them. Only vague rumors he'd overheard since arriving in America.
People born with strange abilities.
Feared by ordinary society.
Yet hearing that word immediately reminded him of Harry.
Not because Harry had ever mentioned mutants.
But because Harry had spent his entire life standing beside those whom society feared.
House-elves.
Werewolves.
Giants.
Centaurs.
Even goblins.
Harry had never cared what someone was.
Only whether they needed help.
Dennis asked another careful question.
"Did this mysterious wizard attack anyone?"
The elderly witch blinked in surprise before consulting another report.
"Actually..."
She looked genuinely puzzled.
"No."
"He escaped our Aurors several times."
"But according to every report..."
"...he never harmed a single one."
That sounded exactly like Harry.
He could easily imagine Harry stunning an Auror before apologizing to them afterwards.
The witch continued reading.
"It appears connected to helping mutants."
"There are reports suggesting dozens..."
She checked another document.
"...perhaps over a hundred mutants escaped illegal captivity."
Dennis stared at her.
"The exact details remain classified."
"But whoever this wizard is..."
"He has repeatedly risked his own life."
Dennis thanked her sincerely before leaving the counter.
He walked slowly through the bustling corridors of MACUSA, barely noticing the people passing around him.
His thoughts raced. Powerful enough to escape trained Aurors. Skilled enough to leave almost no magical trace. Compassionate enough to repeatedly risk everything for complete strangers.
He stopped walking.
It fit.
Harry had disappeared from Britain because he refused to become another weapon for politicians.
If he had found another group of oppressed people...
Of course he would help them.
"Hermione was right."
"You really do have a saving-people thing."
Leaving the MACUSA headquarters, he stepped out into the busy streets of magical New York.
The afternoon crowd flowed around him, yet he barely noticed.
For weeks they had been searching magical communities. Harry probably hadn't spent more than a few hours inside one.
Rather than returning immediately to the safe house, Dennis wandered into a nearby Muggle park.
Children laughed while feeding birds.
Office workers sat eating late lunches.
Several elderly couples quietly played chess beneath the shade of broad trees.
Finding an empty bench, Dennis reached into his satchel and withdrew a fresh map of the United States.
He stared at it for several moments before taking out a quill.
"The Three Mile Island disaster..."
He marked the location.
"The Statue of Liberty..."
Harry wasn't living in magical America.
He was moving through Muggle America.
Which meant...
If Harry had found somewhere to stay...
It was probably nowhere magical at all.
Dennis slowly smiled.
"We have been asking the wrong people."
He folded the map carefully before placing it back inside his satchel.
"I don't know where you are yet..."
He looked toward the busy New York skyline in the distance.
"...but I think I'm finally following your footsteps."
For the first time since arriving in America, Dennis felt genuinely hopeful.
Not because he had found Harry.
But because he had finally stopped searching for Harry Potter, the famous wizard every newspaper in Britain wrote about.
Instead...
He had started searching for the young man who had once freed a house-elf simply because nobody else thought the creature deserved freedom.
The young man who had stood beside werewolves, giants, goblins, and centaurs when everyone else turned away.
The young man who could never ignore suffering, even when it placed his own life in danger.
That was the Harry Dennis knew.