The real Herry Potter

The Order of the Stars gathered in their secret room behind the portrait of the Dancing Trolls, ready to tackle the most challenging part of their project: carving the broomsticks by hand. The excitement of moving the materials the previous night had faded, replaced by the daunting task that lay before them. The piles of elderwood they had painstakingly transported from Hagrid's hut now sat in the corner, waiting to be transformed into broomsticks.

Fred Weasley leaned against the table, watching as Harry ran his fingers over the smooth grain of one of the pieces of elderwood. "You know," Fred said, smirking, "most people don't bother with all this manual work anymore. But it's good that you're doing it properly. Shows dedication."

Harry sighed, looking up from the wood. "We don't have much choice, do we? It's the only way to make sure the broomsticks remember the spells we cast on them. If the wood is touched by any magic before we enchant it, it won't work properly."

Hermione nodded, a frown of concentration on her face as she studied the plans they had drawn up. "The wood's natural magical properties would interfere with the enchantments. The slightest hint of a previous spell could ruin the whole process. That's why we can't use magic to carve it or even to move it."

George chimed in. "It's true. And that's why you don't see many hand-crafted broomsticks anymore. Most people just use standard models made in factories, but they'll never be as good as the old ones." He gave a nostalgic sigh. "This is going to be something special."

Neville looked a bit apprehensive, glancing at the wood. "But… carving it by hand? That's going to take ages."

"Well, we have to do it," Harry said, rolling up his sleeves. "No shortcuts. We'll take turns working on it, bit by bit, and when it's done, it'll be worth it."

With that, they began the painstaking process. Each member took a piece of wood and began carving, using small knives and tools to chip away at the rough exterior, shaping it into the sleek, aerodynamic form that would one day become a broomstick. It was slow, tiring work, and their hands ached from the effort, but there was something satisfying about seeing the broomstick take shape.

Fred and George offered tips along the way, guiding the younger members with their knowledge of broomstick crafting. "Keep the handle smooth," Fred instructed, his own knife moving with precision. "Any rough patches will affect the aerodynamics and make it harder to fly."

"And be careful with the bristles," George added, gesturing to the bundles of twigs that would eventually be attached to the ends. "If they're not even, the broomstick won't be balanced, and you'll end up flying in circles."

Blaise Zabini, who was working beside Harry, wiped the sweat from his brow and muttered, "This is harder than I thought it would be. I've got splinters all over my hands."

"Yeah," Harry agreed, though there was a determined glint in his eyes. "But it'll be worth it when we see the first-years flying safely."

In the days that followed, Harry began to notice that their work on the broomsticks was progressing much slower than he had anticipated. The wood was tough, and their makeshift tools were not up to the task of carving the precise shapes they needed. He mentioned this problem in one of his letters to Sirius, expressing his frustration and concern over not being able to complete the project before the end of the year.

A week later, Harry received a reply from Sirius. Along with the letter, there was a heavy, carefully wrapped package. When Harry unwrapped it, he found a set of beautifully crafted wood-carving tools, each one engraved with delicate runes and the initials "S.O.B" on the handles. Sirius had even included a small note that read:

Harry,

You're doing something amazing, something that would make your father incredibly proud. I had these tools made especially for you and your friends. They're enchanted to stay sharp and will help you carve the broomsticks more easily. Remember, every detail matters when creating something that will last. Just like your father and I learned, it's the effort you put into your work that makes it truly magical.

—Sirius

Harry couldn't help but smile as he read the letter. The next time the Order of the Stars gathered in their secret base, he unveiled the tools with a flourish, much to everyone's excitement. "These were sent by Sirius," he explained. "He thought we could use some proper tools for the job."

Fred let out a low whistle. "Now those are some quality tools. Your godfather's really got an eye for this stuff, doesn't he?"

"Yeah, well, he's always been good at getting things done," Harry replied with a grin.

With the new tools in hand, the work on the broomsticks became much easier. Each member of the Order of the Stars received their own carving knife, chisel, and sanding tool, and soon the clubhouse was filled with the rhythmic sound of wood being shaped and molded. As they worked, Harry explained the details of their plan once more.

"We're aiming to make twenty broomsticks for Hogwarts, but I know that not all of them are going to turn out perfect," Harry said, carefully shaving away a sliver of wood from the broom handle he was working on. "So, we're actually going to make thirty. That way, if we have any extras that turn out well, they'll go to us, the Order of the Stars."

Neville looked up from his own work, his face smeared with wood dust. "You really think we'll manage to make that many?"

"We'll try," Harry replied with determination. "Even if we don't get all thirty perfect, it'll be worth it. And who knows? Maybe we'll end up with more than we need."

The other members of the club exchanged glances, nodding in agreement. "This is going to be amazing," said Susan Bones, her eyes shining with excitement. "Imagine, the first years flying on our broomsticks next year."

"That's the idea," Hermione added, brushing wood shavings off her robes. "We want to make sure they have safe, reliable broomsticks to learn on. And who knows, maybe they'll remember the Order of the Stars for years to come."

As the days passed, the Order of the Stars fell into a routine. They would meet in the evenings, after classes and homework were finished, to continue working on the broomsticks. The midterm exams loomed closer, but as Fred and George had assured them, they weren't particularly important. "They're just to see how much you've learned so far," George had explained. "The real challenge comes at the end of the year."

"Which is why we're focusing on this," Fred added, tapping the broomstick he was working on. "The exams will still be there, but this project? It's a one-time thing."

Hermione, of course, insisted on revising for the midterms, even as she carved her broomstick. She brought her textbooks with her to the meetings, balancing her studies with their project. "We can't neglect our schoolwork," she said firmly. "But that doesn't mean we can't work on this as well."

By the time the midterms arrived, the broomsticks had begun to take shape. They were rough, unpolished, and far from finished, but they were undeniably broomsticks. There was a sense of pride among the group as they saw the fruits of their labor slowly coming together.

One evening, as they were working in their secret room, Harry glanced up at the elderwood in his hands, now beginning to resemble a proper broomstick. "You know," he said thoughtfully, "I think my dad and Sirius would have been proud of us for this."

Fred grinned, pausing in his own work. "Of course they would have. They'd have probably tried to join us if they were still here."

George nodded, leaning back and examining his handiwork. "This is exactly the kind of thing they'd have done—making something special for Hogwarts, leaving their mark."

Harry smiled at that, feeling a warmth spread through him. For the first time, he felt like he was truly following in his father's footsteps, carrying on the legacy of the Marauders in his own way.

It wasn't just about the broomsticks, though. As they continued to work, they found themselves growing closer as a group. They shared stories, laughter, and the occasional frustration when a piece of wood split or a knot in the grain made carving difficult. They learned to lean on each other, to support one another when things got tough, and to celebrate even the smallest victories.

On one crisp morning, with the chill of winter already starting to bite at their skin, Harry and the Weasley twins, Fred and George, made their way down to Hagrid's hut. The air was thick with the scent of pine and wood smoke from Hagrid's roaring fireplace, and a thin layer of frost crunched beneath their feet as they walked. Harry had spent the last few nights thinking about the next step in their broomstick project and had realized they were missing one vital component: something strong yet flexible to tie the twigs to the broomstick handles.

"Morning, Hagrid!" Harry called, waving as he reached the front door of the hut. The half-giant opened the door with a wide smile, clearly pleased to see them.

"Ah, Harry! Fred, George! What brings yeh here so early?" Hagrid asked, ushering them inside with his massive hands. "Not gettin' into trouble, I hope."

"Well, not exactly," Fred replied with a mischievous grin.

"We were hoping you could help us with something," George added, giving Hagrid a look that suggested they were about to make a rather unusual request.

Harry nodded, taking out the plans they had drawn up for the broomsticks. "We're going to need something to tie the broomstick twigs together—something strong and flexible. We thought Acromantula web would be perfect."

Hagrid's eyes lit up with excitement. "Ah, yeh need some Acromantula web, eh? Well, you're in luck! I know just the place to get some!" He paused, leaning in closer. "And I reckon I've got a friend who'd be happy to share some with yeh."

Fred and George exchanged a wary glance. "A… friend?" Fred asked hesitantly. "You mean that giant spider you once mentioned?"

"That's right!" Hagrid replied cheerfully. "Aragog! He's a right ol' friend of mine, he is. Raised him meself when he was just a little fella. He lives in the Forbidden Forest now, with all his family. They've got more web than yeh could imagine!"

The twins paled slightly, but Harry just smiled. He had heard of Aragog before, and though he was curious about seeing an Acromantula up close, he wasn't particularly afraid. "Would you take us to him?" Harry asked.

"Course I will!" Hagrid said, beaming with pride. "Let me jus' grab me crossbow, just in case. Don't worry, I won't let anythin' happen to yeh."

With Hagrid leading the way, the three boys followed him into the dense, shadowy expanse of the Forbidden Forest. The tall, ancient trees loomed above them, blocking out most of the morning light and leaving them in an eerie twilight. Despite the creeping sense of danger that filled the forest, Harry couldn't help but feel a rush of excitement. This was exactly the kind of adventure he imagined when he thought of the Marauders—exploring hidden parts of Hogwarts, encountering magical creatures, and solving problems in creative ways.

"So, what's this Aragog like?" Fred asked, trying to keep his voice steady.

"Well, he's a bit big, I reckon," Hagrid said, scratching his beard thoughtfully. "But don't worry, he won't harm yeh, not when I'm with yeh. Aragog knows I'm his friend, yeh see."

"Define 'a bit big,'" George muttered under his breath, but Hagrid didn't seem to hear him.

After what felt like an eternity of walking, they finally arrived at a massive clearing. The ground was covered in thick, silken threads of webbing that glistened in the dim light, and in the center of it all stood the largest spider Harry had ever seen. Aragog's body was easily the size of a small car, with legs that stretched out long and thin like the branches of a tree. Surrounding him were hundreds of smaller Acromantulas, their eyes gleaming in the darkness.

"Aragog!" Hagrid called out cheerfully, raising a hand in greeting. "It's me, Hagrid! I brought some friends o' mine who need a bit o' help with their project."

Aragog shifted slightly, his massive, bulbous eyes focusing on the group. "Hagrid… it has been some time," the spider replied, his voice low and echoing. "Who are these… humans… you bring into my domain?"

"These are Harry, Fred, and George," Hagrid explained, gesturing to the boys. "They're makin' broomsticks for Hogwarts, yeh see. But they need some of yer web to tie the twigs together. It's for a good cause—helpin' first years learn to fly."

Harry stepped forward, trying to keep his voice calm and steady. "We'd be really grateful for any help you can give us, Aragog."

Aragog let out a soft, clicking noise that Harry supposed was the Acromantula equivalent of laughter. "Very well, young wizard. There is plenty of web here. You may take as much as you need."

"Thank you!" Fred said, though he was clearly still trying to keep his legs from shaking.

"Yeah, thanks a lot," George added, sounding equally relieved.

Hagrid led them closer to where the thick strands of webbing were piled up against the trees. The threads shimmered like silver in the dim light, and as they touched it, they could feel the strength and elasticity of the material. It was exactly what they needed for their broomsticks. They quickly gathered as much as they could, rolling the web into neat coils and placing them into the bags they had brought with them.

As they worked, Harry glanced back at Aragog, who was watching them with an expression that was difficult to read. "Your kindness will be remembered," Harry said respectfully, inclining his head.

"Do not forget the debt you owe," Aragog replied, his voice serious.

"I won't forget," Harry promised.

As they left the clearing, loaded with enough Acromantula web to tie all their broomsticks, Hagrid gave them a hearty pat on the back. "See? Told yeh it'd be fine!" he said proudly.

Fred exhaled a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding. "That was… well, that was something."

"I'm not sure whether I'm more impressed or terrified," George added with a shaky laugh.

Harry just smiled, glancing at the bags filled with the precious Acromantula web. "The Marauders would've done the same," he said. "They would've found a way to get what they needed, no matter how risky it was."

Fred and George nodded, their respect for Harry growing even deeper. "You know," Fred said thoughtfully, "I think you might just be the best Marauder of all, Harry."

"Well, I've got good teachers," Harry replied with a grin.

With the Acromantula web in their possession, they headed back to the clubhouse, eager to continue their work. The Order of the Stars was one step closer to completing their broomstick project, and they knew that this adventure would be just one of many that lay ahead of them.