The next morning, the rain had given way to a reluctant sun that peeked through the clouds, casting a muted light over Grimmauld Place. Harry stood in front of the old mirror, his reflection staring back at him with an intensity he had rarely felt. The boy who once wore the weight of the world on his shoulders now looked like someone ready to forge his own path. He had made a decision, and though the prospect of action filled him with a heady thrill, it also churned his stomach with anxiety.

“Are you really going to do this?” he asked himself, though he already knew the answer. He could no longer stand idly by, watching as Neville basked in the accolades that Harry craved for himself.

With a deep breath, he turned his back on the mirror and headed downstairs. Sirius was in the kitchen, brewing a pot of coffee and humming an off-key tune that made Harry chuckle despite his nerves.

“Hey, you’re up early,” Sirius said, glancing over his shoulder. “Ready for your big day?”

“Big day?” Harry repeated, trying to play it cool. “I’m just going to grab some breakfast.

“Sure you are,” Sirius shot back with a knowing smirk. “Just remember, you can’t go charging out into the world without a plan. Talk to me about what you want to do first.”

“I have a plan,” Harry replied, grabbing a piece of toast and slathering it with jam. It was a half-truth, though. He had an idea of what he wanted, but the specifics were less certain. 

“Right. ‘I have a plan’ usually means you have no plan,” Sirius teased before his expression turned serious. “Just promise me you’ll be careful. You’re not invincible, Harry.”

“Neither is Neville,” Harry countered, his voice firm. “But he’s out there, doing what needs to be done. It’s time I stopped waiting for someone to hand me my destiny.”

Sirius sighed, the weight of his concern evident on his face. “You’re not wrong about Neville, but remember—he was raised to be a leader. You might not have had that training, but you’ve got something he doesn’t have: the heart of a Gryffindor. Just don’t confuse reckless with brave.”

“I won’t,” Harry promised, though the thrill of possibility pulsed beneath his skin, tempting him toward recklessness.

After breakfast, Harry slipped on a leather jacket that had belonged to Sirius during his rebellious days. It felt like armour, a protective layer that shielded him from the past while also making him feel invincible. He stepped into the cool morning air, a mix of determination and trepidation swirling within him. The streets of London were waking up, and with them, the wizarding world was beginning to stir.

He knew where he had to go. The Leaky Cauldron was a hotbed of gossip and information, and he needed to hear the latest news about Neville, the Order, and the brewing tensions that were simmering just beneath the surface of everyday life. 

As he walked, Harry’s mind raced with possibilities. He could join Neville’s squad, offer his help with reconnaissance or even combat. He could prove himself, show the world that he was more than just the boy who survived a curse. 

The Leaky Cauldron greeted him with its usual charm, the warm glow of its interior juxtaposed against the brisk chill outside. The bell above the door chimed, and Tom, the barkeep, looked up from behind the counter, his eyes lighting up at the sight of Harry.

“Harry! Long time no see! Where’ve you been hiding?” Tom called, wiping his hands on his apron.

“Just… taking some time off,” Harry replied, forcing a smile. “Is Neville in? I need to talk to him.”

“Last I heard, he was in the back, planning the next move against those Death Eaters who have been causing trouble near Hogsmeade. You know how he is, always ready to jump into action.”

Harry’s heart raced at the thought. He navigated through the crowd of witches and wizards, each engrossed in their conversations. The Leaky Cauldron buzzed with excitement, rumours flying about Neville’s exploits and the rising tension between the remnants of Voldemort’s followers and the new Order of the Phoenix.

As he approached the back room, he could hear Neville’s voice rising above the rest, confident and commanding. “We can’t let them think they can get away with this. If we don’t act now, they’ll only grow bolder.”

Harry paused at the door, suddenly unsure. What if he was stepping into a world he wasn’t prepared for? But then he thought of Neville, the boy who had risen from the shadows to become a beacon of hope. If Neville could do it, so could he.

With a deep breath, he pushed the door open.

The room fell silent as all eyes turned to him, and Harry felt the weight of their gazes. Neville stood at the head of a table, flanked by a few familiar faces—Hermione Granger, Ron Weasley, and even Luna Lovegood, who looked as ethereal as ever. 

“Harry!” Neville exclaimed, breaking into a smile that quickly faded into concern. “What are you doing here?”

“I came to help,” Harry stated, his voice steadier than he felt. “I want to be part of this.”

The room buzzed with a mix of surprise and skepticism. Hermione raised an eyebrow, and Ron shifted uncomfortably in his seat. 

“Are you sure about this, Harry?” Hermione asked, her voice gentle but firm. “It’s dangerous out there.”

“I’ve been doing nothing while you all risk your lives,” Harry shot back, his frustration bubbling to the surface. “I want to stand beside you. I’m tired of being left out.”

Neville exchanged glances with Hermione and Ron, and Harry could see the wheels turning in their heads. “Alright,” Neville said finally, his voice steady. “But if you’re in, you’re all in. We can’t afford to have anyone second-guessing themselves on the battlefield.”

Harry nodded, feeling a rush of adrenaline. This was it—his moment to step out of the shadows. 

“Welcome to the team, Harry,” Neville said, offering a hand.

As they shook, Harry felt a spark of solidarity and purpose ignite within him. He was no longer just the boy who had survived; he was ready to fight for something greater. The chaos was calling, and for the first time, Harry felt ready to answer. 

“Let’s get to work,” he said, a grin breaking across his face. The reckoning had begun, and he was determined to carve his own destiny in a world that had always been defined by others.