Harry hesitated at the threshold of the old wooden door. A cold draft slipped through the cracks, carrying with it the scent of aged parchment and something darker—something that made the hair on his arms stand on end.
Lupin stepped inside first, his expression carefully neutral. He motioned for Harry to follow.
With a deep breath, Harry crossed the threshold.
The room was unlike anything he had seen at Hogwarts. Bookshelves lined the walls, filled with texts far older than anything in the Restricted Section. Strange symbols were carved into the stone floor, forming an intricate pattern that pulsed faintly with magic. A single candle flickered in the center of the room, casting long, shifting shadows.
Harry swallowed.
"What is this place?"
Lupin closed the door behind them and turned, his eyes dark with something Hadrian couldn't quite place.
"A sanctuary," he said. "And a vault of knowledge."
Harry narrowed his eyes.
"Knowledge about what?"
Lupin studied him for a moment before stepping forward. He reached out, and with a flick of his wand, a book levitated from the shelf, its cover bound in deep green leather with silver lettering.
Harry's breath hitched when he saw the title.
"The Lost Lineages of Wizarding Britain."
A book on bloodlines.
And not just any bloodlines—forgotten ones. Hidden ones.
Harry's pulse quickened.
"What does this have to do with me?"
Lupin exhaled.
"Everything."
He opened the book to a specific page, then turned it toward Hadrian.
Harry stepped closer, eyes scanning the old parchment. His fingers trembled slightly as he read the passage beneath a familiar name.
"Hadrian Peverell."
He thaught "Who am I,Harry or Hadrian?Or both."
"No I'm both Harry is the name given to me by my parents and Hadrian is the name passed down by bloodline"
The words blurred in his vision as realization struck him.
He knew about the Deathly Hallows. He knew the Tale of the Three Brothers.
But what he hadn't known—what no one had told him—was that the Peverell bloodline had never truly died out.
It had simply gone into hiding.
Harry clenched his fists.
"You're saying I—"
"You're more than just a Potter," Lupin said quietly. "Your blood carries a legacy that runs deeper than you realize. The Hallows were never just fairy tales. And your connection to them… is stronger than you think."
Harry's heart pounded.
The shadows at his feet stirred again, moving without his command.
Lupin's gaze flickered toward them but didn't comment. Instead, he closed the book and placed a hand on Hadrian's shoulder.
"You've felt it, haven't you?" he asked.
Harry swallowed hard.
Yes. He had.
A pull. A whisper in the dark. Magic that was his, but not quite. Power that waited—watching, wanting.
It was why the shadows listened.
Why the hooded figure in the library had felt so familiar.
And why, deep down, he already knew that this revelation was only the beginning.
Harry took a shaky breath.
"What should I do now?"
Lupin's grip tightened slightly before he let go.
"Learn."
The candle flickered.
The shadows whispered.
And deep within him, something stirred.
—