Sirius finally left with Remus to return to Andromeda's house, leaving Harry with his friends in the Great Hall. Before he left, Sirius waved one last goodbye to Harry, giving him a small, affectionate smile. Harry waved back, his heart heavy, knowing that he would miss the familiar presence of his godfather.
At the end of lunch, as the students of Hogwarts were still sitting in the Great Hall, Harry turned to Hermione with a curious look on his face. The excitement from the announcement of the Triwizard Tournament still lingered in the air, and the atmosphere was thick with anticipation.
"Hey, Hermione," Harry said, leaning slightly toward her, his voice filled with curiosity. "So, do you know who's winning the tournament so far? Any idea who's ahead?"
Hermione looked up from her plate, her expression thoughtful. She'd been quietly watching the exchange between the other students and had clearly been keeping track of the progress of the tournament. She pushed her plate aside, her fingers brushing a few stray curls from her face as she leaned in to respond.
"Well," she began, her voice calm yet excited, "it's actually Cédric Diggory from Hufflepuff. He's been performing really well, actually. His skills in both the tasks and his overall attitude have made him a real contender. Honestly, I think he's going to win."
As Hermione spoke, Harry's eyes widened, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. He knew Cédric, of course, and had always respected him, but to hear that he was doing so well in the tournament filled him with a sense of pride for his fellow student.
"You mean, Cédric?" Harry asked, his voice filled with a mix of admiration and disbelief. "I never really thought he'd be the one to win, but now that you mention it, he's been amazing. I guess Hufflepuff is really proving itself this year."
Hermione nodded, a gleam of pride in her eyes. "Yeah, and it's making everyone in the House so happy. Hufflepuff hasn't won in so long, so the entire House is absolutely buzzing with excitement. I think it's about time they had a victory."
As Hermione spoke, Harry's gaze shifted over to the other students in the Hall. He could see some of the Hufflepuffs already exchanging excited whispers, their faces lit with pride. Cédric's success in the tournament was a source of great pride not just for his house but for Hogwarts as a whole. Harry couldn't help but grin as he watched the celebration growing around them.
The next day, after the festivities had calmed down, Harry found himself in the Secret Room with his closest friends. It was a Saturday morning, and the room was quiet, the only sounds being the occasional crackle of the fireplace. The usual laughter and chatter that filled the common room had been replaced by a palpable sense of tension in the air.
Harry sat on one of the armchairs, his fingers tracing the edges of a book, while Théo, Hermione, Pansy, Draco, Astoria, Daphné, Millicent, Ron, and Blaise were gathered around him, all waiting for him to explain everything.
He took a deep breath before starting. "I know you all are worried, but I need to tell you what happened. Yesterday, I explained everything to Andromeda, Sirius, and Remus,and I am sure Hermione and Theo told you some details and I think it's time you all know, too."
Harry glanced at Théo, who gave him a comforting nod, before continuing. "I was taken by a Death Eater... one that's trying to bring Voldemort back. We believe he's trying to resurrect him. It's terrifying, and it's not just about me. There's more at play here, and I'm not sure who we can trust anymore."
Hermione added, "The Death Eater is a man named Barty Crouch Jr." She looked around at the group, her voice lowering as if she didn't want to draw attention. "He's the son of Barty Crouch, the ex head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. He was convicted years ago for his involvement in the torture and murder of Muggles and other acts of dark magic."
The room grew silent, each person absorbing her words. Théo, always quick to process information, narrowed his eyes. "I heard rumors about Crouch Jr.," he said, glancing at Harry. "He's one of the worst of them all, from what I understand."
"Harry," he began cautiously, "are you sure you're okay? I mean, after Barty Crouch Jr. took you—did he hurt you badly?"
Harry glanced around at his friends, noticing the concern in their eyes, especially theo's. He smiled reassuringly, trying to keep his voice calm.
"No, I'm fine," Harry said, shifting slightly to make himself more comfortable, both in body and mind. "Kavi saved me. he got to me before things could get worse."
There was a collective sigh of relief from the group. Hermione, ever the inquisitive one, raised an eyebrow and asked, her voice soft but insistent, "And what about the letter? The one from the stranger... what happened with that? Did you ever find out where asha was in this moment because she is now with us?"
Harry's eyes softened, and for a moment, he felt the weight of the mystery of the letter. He nodded slowly, glancing at Kavi, who was curled up next to him with Asha resting on his other side.
"I did," Harry said, voice low as he looked at each of his friends. "It turns out... Asha is pregnant."
Everyone froze for a moment, their eyes wide with surprise. Neville looked like he was about to say something, but Hermione cut in, her voice barely above a whisper.
"Pregnant?" she asked, her shock evident in her wide eyes. "But how? I mean... I thought the two of them were—"
Harry gave a small nod, trying to gather his thoughts before he spoke again. He didn't want to dwell too much on the oddities of their magical connection, but it was important for them to understand
"Asha didn't want to leave the basilisk. She said it was important for her to stay with him. But, she told Kavi about it. She wanted him to tell me, but he forgot. Kavi just forgot to mention it," Harry explained, glancing over at the pair of serpents now entwined in his arms.
The room was silent for a moment as everyone processed the information. Pansy was the first to speak, breaking the silence with a soft, thoughtful comment.
"So, Asha's been carrying this secret for a while?" she asked, her voice tinged with sympathy. "That's a lot to keep to herself."
"Yeah," Harry replied, his tone soft but firm. "I think Kavi was just... overwhelmed by everything. He never meant to leave me in the dark about it."
Hermione shifted uncomfortably, crossing her arms, her mind clearly racing with all the implications of what Harry had said. She glanced at him and then at Kavi and Asha, deep in thought.
"Well," Hermione said, finally breaking the tension, "at least we know now. But it's still... a lot to take in, isn't it?"
Harry gave a slight smile, his fingers gently stroking Asha's scales as he spoke. "Yeah, but it's something I can handle. I just wish Kavi had told me sooner."
Ron, who had been quiet up until now, spoke up, trying to lighten the mood with his typical dry humor. "Well, at least now you've got more on your plate than just being the Chosen One, mate. You're going to be a snake dad."
Harry chuckled softly, rolling his eyes. "Thanks, Ron," he said, though a genuine smile tugged at the corners of his lips. "I appreciate that."
Théo, who had been silently observing, looked at Harry with a mix of concern and pride in his eyes. "You've got this," he said simply, placing a hand on Harry's shoulder. "You always do."
Harry met his gaze, grateful for the support, and nodded. "Thanks, Théo."
They were all still processing the news about barty and Voldemort,so the silence grow between the friends.
Pansy's voice broke through the silence. "if there's a Death Eater trying to bring you know who back" Her face was pale, her usual confidence replaced by worry. "What's going to happen to us?"
Draco, sitting on the opposite side of the room, crossed his arms and looked at Harry intently. "If that's true, then we're all in danger. My family... we've been involved with Voldemort before, and this could mean everything we've fought against, everything we've tried to escape from, could come back."
Théo sat beside Harry, his hand resting lightly on Harry's shoulder. "We need to stay calm."
Millicent, who had been quiet until now, finally spoke up, her voice low and serious. "So... "If you know who comes back, I will be dead, I'm a Muggle-born." She shook her head in disbelief. "That's insane. I don't know how you can keep going through all of this."
Blaise, always the more composed of the group, leaned forward, his brow furrowed. "We've known that Voldemort's followers wouldn't just vanish overnight. But we thought we were safe, Harry. This changes everything. What can we do?"
Harry looked around at his friends, his heart heavy. "I don't know yet,But for now, Voldemort hasn't returned, and I've only seen one Death Eater helping him."
Ron, who had been silently listening, finally stood up. "We've all been through a lot. But we're still here, right? We'll fight this, together." His voice cracked slightly, but there was a fierceness in his words.
Hermione nodded, her eyes burning with determination. "We're with you, Harry. Whatever it takes."
Draco's gaze lingered on Harry for a moment, his usual aloof demeanor softened. "We'll do what we have to," he said quietly. "I owe it to my family... and to myself."
Astoria, who had been quiet up until this point, spoke in a soft voice. "What can we do to help, Harry? You don't have to face this alone."
Harry took a moment to process everything his friends had said. He knew that things were getting serious, and that the danger they were facing wasn't just about him anymore. But with his friends by his side, he felt a little less alone.
"We need to stay alert," he said firmly. "We'll figure this out, together. But we have to be careful. If there's a Death Eater trying to bring Voldemort back, we need to keep it a secret for now. We can't risk anyone else finding out too soon."
Théo gave Harry's shoulder a reassuring squeeze. "We'll do whatever it takes to help you stop this."
Harry nodded, feeling a sense of warmth and resolve spreading through him. "Thank you," he said quietly. "You all don't know how much this means to me."
As the group sat together, their conversations quieted and the reality of their situation began to settle in.
Pansy looked down, her fingers nervously fidgeting with the hem of her sleeve. "Well," she began softly, "my family... they don't know about my relationship with Hermione. Not because I don't want them to know, but because of her blood status. If Voldemort were to return, she'd be dead before she had a chance to breathe." Her voice wavered as she spoke.
Hermione, sitting next to Pansy, flinched at her words. She had always known that her Muggle-born status was a risk in a world where blood purity was so highly valued. Her jaw tightened, but she didn't respond immediately. She could feel Pansy's fear but also knew that she, too, was afraid of what Voldemort's return would mean for all of them.
Pansy continued, her eyes dark with anxiety. "My mother isn't a supporter of Voldemort, not exactly, but she's not against the Dark Lord either. She believes in keeping things... neutral. My father, though... He's an old-fashioned man. A conservative who values blood status above all else. I don't know if he's really a former Death Eater, but sometimes I wonder. I'm scared, I'm scared of what it all means if he comes back."
There was a tense silence in the room. The air felt heavy, each person contemplating the situation, imagining the horrors that might unfold if Voldemort were to rise again. Ron shifted uncomfortably, glancing nervously at Hermione, as if he wanted to reassure her but wasn't sure how.
Blaise, his brow furrowed with concern, leaned forward in his chair. "Pansy's right. It's hard to know who you can trust these days. The world's a mess. My mother, though, she's always been firm about one thing. She won't ever support Voldemort. She doesn't care how powerful he is, or how strong his followers are. She believes no man should have the power to control others, no matter what." Blaise's voice grew a bit more intense, as if he was trying to convince himself as much as his friends.
"And honestly, I respect that. She's never bowed to anyone, not even when it could have kept her safe. It's something I've learned from her, I guess. Never let anyone control your life."
Harry finally looked at Théo, a bit puzzled, and asked, "And what about you? What's your situation?"
Théo's eyes darkened slightly, his usual confidence fading for a moment. He leaned back on the couch, his arms crossed. "If Voldemort comes back, my father wouldn't hesitate to sell me out for his own advantage, just like he always has. He'd do anything to stay on the winning side. It doesn't matter who he has to betray, as long as it keeps him in power."
Harry frowned, feeling a mixture of anger and sympathy. "That's... that's horrible," he muttered, trying to process what Théo had just said. "I can't believe he would do that to his own son."
Théo shrugged, a hollow laugh escaping him. "That's just how it is. The Dark Lord doesn't care about family—only power. My father's no different."
Hermione, who had been listening intently, gave Théo a sympathetic look. "You don't deserve that, Théo," she said softly.
Théo smiled, though it didn't reach his eyes. "No one ever said life was fair, Hermione."
Draco leaned forward slightly, his voice lowering as he spoke again, ensuring the group was paying attention but that no one else could overhear. "You know," he began, "my mother told me that by the end of Voldemort's reign, even the most loyal of his followers were starting to doubt him. Most were too terrified to continue supporting him, and the rest? Well... they didn't make it to the end."
Hermione raised an eyebrow, glancing over at Harry before returning her attention to Draco. "But surely, there must still be some left," she said, her voice cautious but inquisitive. "You can't just wipe out an entire movement like that."
Draco shook his head, his expression serious. "I thought the same, but... most of the Death Eaters were either captured or killed in the final battle. It wasn't just the Ministry; even Voldemort's own supporters turned on him. You can only push people so far before they realize they're better off on their own."
Ron, who had been quietly listening, frowned. "But there must be some left, right? They can't all be gone."
Harry nodded, his voice steady but tinged with doubt. "I hope you're right, Ron. But Draco's probably got a point. If there were more, we'd have heard about them by now."
Harry realized at that moment just how much he hated Dumbledore for trying to manipulate him, for turning him into some kind of savior. The man had been right about one thing: Voldemort could return and destroy everything, worse than during the first war.
The discussion continued as the group tried to cheer each other up, attempting to find solutions, imagining both the worst and the best outcomes.
Two weeks passed, and there were only two weeks left until the end of Harry's fourth year. It was right in the middle of the second week of June, and all the students were sitting in the Great Hall, enjoying their breakfast along with the professors. The atmosphere was filled with the usual hustle and bustle as students chatted excitedly about the upcoming summer holidays, their plans, and the end of their exams.
The long tables were laden with plates of pancakes, eggs, and toast, and the air was thick with the smell of freshly brewed coffee and the sweet scent of pastries. The golden chandeliers overhead cast a warm glow on the students as they ate, the chatter echoing softly through the massive hall. The Ravenclaw table, where Harry and Hermione sat, was particularly lively, with Hermione engaged in an animated conversation with him.
he couldn't help but notice something strange. His eyes flicked to the head table where the professors sat, and it was immediately apparent that something was off.
Dumbledore was absent.
"Have you noticed?" Hermione whispered, her voice laced with concern. "Dumbledore isn't here."
Harry nodded, his gaze narrowing as he scanned the table. "I thought I saw him earlier today, but now... nothing. It's strange. He never misses the feast."
The room fell into a stunned silence as a flock of owls swooped into the common room, each carrying a copy of The Daily Prophet. The owls fluttered in with their usual urgency, dropping the newspapers into the hands of their intended recipients. A sense of tension filled the air, and the usual chatter died down as everyone's attention turned to the papers.
Harry, curious about the sudden wave of discomfort, reached for his own copy of the newspaper. As soon as he unfolded it, his eyes widened in disbelief. The headline screamed at him in bold letters:
Dumbledore Manipulated a Student to Kill Others?
By Rita Skeeter
In a shocking turn of events, the ongoing trial of Peter Pettigrew has unveiled allegations that could shake the very foundations of the wizarding world. Pettigrew, accused of betraying James and Lily Potter and aiding the Dark Lord, has revealed a narrative that points the finger squarely at none other than Albus Dumbledore, the revered former Headmaster of Hogwarts.
According to Pettigrew's testimony, Dumbledore coerced him into becoming a Death Eater under threat of harm to his family—specifically his ailing mother. Pettigrew claimed that Dumbledore used him as a pawn to infiltrate Voldemort's inner circle, all under the guise of gaining crucial intelligence about the Dark Lord's plans.
"I never wanted to betray my friends," Pettigrew confessed tearfully during the trial. "But Dumbledore left me no choice. He made me swear a magical oath, binding me to his will. When I realized the depths of his manipulation, I begged Voldemort to spare James and Lily in exchange for information, but even that wasn't enough."
The courtroom was left in stunned silence as Pettigrew recounted these events, painting a dark picture of the man many considered the beacon of light in dark times.
Meanwhile, the Wizengamot has announced that Peter Pettigrew faces a possible sentence of 25 years in Azkaban. Despite his claims of coercion, the court determined that Pettigrew willingly committed multiple crimes under Voldemort's command. These include aiding in the murders of innocents, assisting in the Dark Lord's resurrection, and betraying his closest friends.
"It's true that Pettigrew may have been under duress," stated Chief Warlock Mathilda Hopkirk. "However, that does not absolve him of responsibility for the atrocities he carried out. Coercion is not an excuse for murder."
The trial took an even more dramatic turn when it was Dumbledore's turn to testify. As the Wizengamot prepared to hear his defense, the former headmaster mysteriously vanished from the courtroom. His disappearance has only fueled public suspicion, leaving many to wonder: what does Dumbledore have to hide?
While the Ministry has assured the public that they are investigating Dumbledore's sudden disappearance, concerns grow over the implications of Pettigrew's accusations. If true, these allegations not only tarnish Dumbledore's reputation but also cast doubt on the legitimacy of his leadership during the First Wizarding War.
The Daily Prophet will continue to provide updates as more information becomes available. One thing is certain—this trial has already unearthed disturbing truths about the heroes we thought we knew.
Stay tuned for exclusive interviews and further coverage of this unfolding scandal.
Rita Skeeter, Daily Prophet Correspondent
All the students, and even the professors, were stunned by the implications of it all. If Dumbledore, the man so widely respected and trusted, had truly done such a thing—who could they trust now? Was there anyone left to believe in? What was the truth?
Harry, for his part, now had undeniable proof that what Peter had said was true. He didn't know what to think; it was simply too much to process. But one thing was certain—this revelation must have caused immense damage to Sirius. The look on his godfather's face, a mixture of disbelief, pain, and anger, haunted Harry.
_______________________________
The train ride back to London was uneventful, the kind of calm that only hinted at the looming storm. Harry spent most of it with Hermione and Neville, Theo occasionally joining their compartment for fleeting moments. His touches were brief, stolen under the guise of casual gestures—a brush of their fingers, a knee pressed against Harry's beneath the table.
It wasn't enough, but it would have to be.
When the Hogwarts Express finally screeched into the station, Harry felt a familiar pang of sadness that always came with leaving school. The crowd at King's Cross was a sea of bustling parents and chattering students, all eager to reunite or part ways.
Standing near the barrier was Sirius, his rugged features softening into a warm smile the moment he caught sight of Harry. Remus stood beside him, his shabby robes doing little to diminish his quiet grace.
"Harry!" Sirius called, pulling him into a tight embrace as soon as he emerged from the crowd.
"Hi, Sirius," Harry said, his voice muffled against his godfather's chest. "Hi, Remus."
Remus gave him a fond smile and patted his shoulder. "It's good to see you, Harry."
But Harry's attention flickered past them. His heart clenched when he spotted Theo further down the platform. His boyfriend stood rigidly beside his father, who, even from a distance, exuded an air of cold hostility.
Harry ached to reach out, to pull Theo close and whisper all the reassurances he could muster, but they both knew that wasn't possible. Not here.
Theo's father didn't spare Harry a glance. Instead, he grabbed Theo's arm, his grip harsh and unyielding, and Disapparated with a loud crack. Harry flinched.
They go after to Andromeda ,the home was a haven of warmth and light like always, its modest decor speaking to years of love and resilience. The crackling fireplace in the living room filled the space with a soft glow, casting dancing shadows on the walls.
"Harry!" Andromeda greeted him with a smile, pulling him into a hug. "You look fine , haven't you? ."
"I am, thanks to you." Harry said, his lips curving into a small smile.
"Well, you look healthy ," Andromeda said firmly, brushing imaginary lint off his shoulders. "That's what matters."
Tonks bounded into the room, her hair a vivid shade of violet. "Wotcher, Harry! How's the famous Boy who save my montor?"
"I don't do that alone,your mother helps me ," Harry replied, grinning. "How about you?"
"Still causing trouble." She winked before ruffling his hair.
As the evening wore on, Harry sat with Sirius and Remus in the cozy sitting room. Sirius sprawled on the couch, his dark hair falling into his eyes, while Remus nursed a cup of tea, his expression thoughtful.
"How's school been from the last time we see you?" Remus asked, his tone gentle.
Harry hesitated. "It's...fine. Classes are fine."
Sirius snorted. "You're a terrible liar, kid."
"It's just—" Harry paused, debating how much to share. "It's been hard. Theo's dad...he's—he's awful. I hate pretending we're just friends."
Sirius's face darkened, his usual jovial demeanor replaced by quiet fury. "That man doesn't deserve to be anyone's father."
Remus laid a hand on Harry's arm. "It's not fair, Harry. But you're doing the right thing by staying cautious. Protecting Theo is what matters most."
"I know," Harry muttered. "But it still feels like I'm letting him down."
"You're not," Remus said firmly. "And Theo knows that."
Harry nodded, though the weight in his chest didn't lessen.
The summer break began quietly for Harry. The weather was warmer than usual, with the sunlight streaming into Andromeda 's house through slightly cleaner windows.
Despite the typical hum of activity around him, Harry couldn't shake the gnawing unease in his chest. Théo, who had been his lover and boyfriend the year, had not replied to any of Harry's letters. Each empty day only amplified the silence between them, leaving Harry anxious and overthinking every possible reason for the lack of communication.
"Forgotten me already, haven't you?" Harry murmured to himself, fingers tightening around the parchment.
Sirius had been there to greet him with his usual infectious grin and a bone-crushing hug.
"I promise, pup," Sirius had said that day, ruffling Harry's perpetually messy hair, "we're going to have the best summer. No Dursleys, no worries."
And yet, Sirius was hardly around. Most nights, Harry found himself alone in the house, Sirius having taken to spending his evenings at Remus's place.
One particular morning, Harry sat by the window, the summer sun casting golden rays across the room. He watched as a group of sparrows darted around the bird feeder in Andromeda's garden. His fingers itched to write Theo another letter, but he hesitated. How many had he already sent? Four? Five?
Footsteps echoed down the hall, and a moment later, Andromeda appeared at the door. She was dressed neatly in a pale blue blouse and a long skirt, her dark hair pinned back.
"Morning, Harry," she greeted with a warm smile, holding a tray with a plate of toast and eggs.
"Morning," Harry replied, managing a small smile as she set the tray on his desk.
"You've been awfully quiet lately," she said, sitting on the edge of his bed. Her eyes, so much like Bellatrix's but far kinder, studied him closely. "Anything you want to talk about?"
Harry hesitated. "It's just... someone I thought I'd hear from hasn't written back."
"A friend from school?"
Harry nodded. "something like that,yeah."
"Well," Andromeda said, placing a comforting hand on his shoulder, "sometimes people need space, especially over the summer. Maybe he's busy or dealing with something. Give it time."
Harry wanted to believe her words, but the tightness in his chest didn't ease.
That evening, Harry sat on the living room couch, flipping through an old wizarding photo album Andromeda had loaned him. The pictures showed Sirius and Remus as teenagers, often grinning mischievously alongside James and Peter.
The front door creaked open, and Sirius stepped in, his hair tousled and his cloak askew. He looked surprised to see Harry still awake.
"Hey, pup," Sirius said, shrugging off his cloak. "What are you doing up?"
Harry closed the album. "Couldn't sleep."
Sirius dropped onto the couch beside him. "Something on your mind?"
Harry hesitated but eventually said, "It's Theo. He hasn't written back. I don't get it. We were always together at school, but now it's like I don't exist."
Sirius frowned. "Theo, huh? That Slytherin boy you're always talking about?"
Harry nodded, cheeks flushing slightly.
"Well," Sirius said thoughtfully, "relationships, even friendships, can be complicated. People get busy, distracted. Doesn't mean he's forgotten you."
"But what if he has?" Harry asked, voice tinged with hurt.
Sirius pulled him into a side hug. "Then he's an idiot. Because you, Harry James Potter, are unforgettable. Trust me on that."
Harry couldn't help but smile, even if only a little.
The second week of summer vacation brought with it an unexpected shift in pace. Harry, still adjusting to the relative quiet of life at Andromeda's house, was jolted back into the chaos of the wizarding world when a letter arrived one sunny afternoon. Delivered not by the usual Hogwarts owl but by a sleek, silver-eyed raven, it bore the official seal of Gringotts.
Andromeda opened the parchment carefully, her expression shifting from curiosity to concern as her eyes darted over the neat goblin script. Harry, seated at the kitchen table and absentmindedly flipping through a book on magical defense, noticed her furrowed brow.
"What is it?" he asked, putting the book down.
Andromeda folded the letter and set it on the table. "It's from Gringotts. They've been conducting an investigation into... the incident with the diary back in your second year."
Harry tensed. The memory of the Chamber of Secrets was one he preferred to bury. But the mention of Gringotts piqued his interest.
"It's about the Horcrux," Andromeda said quietly, her voice heavy. "The goblins have been tracking items of dark magic stored in their vaults for decades. They believe the diary was part of a larger network of cursed objects linked to Voldemort."
Harry felt a chill run down his spine. The diary. Tom Riddle's voice. Ginny's pale, terrified face. It all came flooding back in vivid, unwanted detail.
"When do they want to meet?" he asked, his voice steady despite the turmoil churning inside.
"They're requesting we come tomorrow," Andromeda replied. "They claim it's urgent."
---
The next day, Harry and Andromeda Apparated to Diagon Alley. Gringotts loomed before them, its white marble facade gleaming in the sunlight. Inside, the air was cooler, the scent of parchment and metal filling the vast, echoing hall. Goblins bustled about, their sharp features and precise movements giving the bank an air of efficiency and menace.
A stern-looking goblin with a nameplate reading Gornuk escorted them to a private chamber deep within the bank. The room was dimly lit, the only light coming from a series of enchanted crystals suspended in midair. Seated at a polished obsidian table were two more goblins, their eyes glinting like black diamonds.
"Harry Potter," one of them said, his voice gravelly yet commanding. " I am Ragnuk, King of the Goblins, we have met before, Mr. Potter and Mrs. Tonks.. This is is Kragnir, he will aid us in our matter.. We've been waiting for you."
Harry nodded and took a seat. Andromeda followed suit, her posture calm but alert.
Griphook leaned forward. " As we have already said and discussed. We've uncovered information that connects the diary you destroyed to other objects of similar malevolent power. These objects, we suspect, were used by He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named to safeguard pieces of his soul."
Harry felt the air leave his lungs. "You mean... there are more Horcruxes?"
Ragnok nodded gravely. "Indeed. Our records show that several vaults under Gringotts' protection once housed items of interest. While some have been claimed or destroyed, others remain unaccounted for."
Andromeda's eyes narrowed. "And what do you need from Harry?"
"We believe that one of them is inside Mr. Potter, which is impossible, but as I've told you, we've only managed to locate two, one we found in a client's account and the other seems to be somehow connected to Mr. Potter's soul."
The words hung in the air like a guillotine about to fall.
Harry's face drained of color, his breath catching in his throat. It felt as though the world beneath him had shifted, pulling him into a void of disbelief.
"No…" he whispered, his voice breaking. He stumbled backward, his chair scraping loudly against the stone floor. His legs gave out, and he collapsed to the ground, trembling. "That's not… that can't be true. You're wrong!"
His emerald-green eyes darted to Andromeda, searching for a denial, a reassurance that this was some cruel misunderstanding.
Andromeda's normally composed demeanor shattered. Her hands gripped the edge of the table so tightly her knuckles turned white. Her lips parted as if to refute the goblin's claim, but no words came. She looked at Harry, the boy she had grown to see as her own, and the thought of him being tainted by Voldemort's darkness tore at her heart.
"How—how is that possible?" she demanded, her voice sharp and trembling. "He's just a child!"
The king goblin's expression remained impassive, his weathered face etched with centuries of grim knowledge.
"When the Dark Lord attempted to kill the boy and the curse rebounded, his soul—unstable as it was—fractured. A piece latched onto the only living thing nearby: Harry Potter."
"Get it out," Harry croaked, his voice rising in desperation. He clutched his chest as if trying to tear the fragment free with his own hands. "I don't want it in me! I don't want him in me!"
Andromeda moved to his side, dropping to her knees. She placed a hand on his shoulder, her touch firm yet gentle.
"Harry, listen to me," she said, her voice shaking but resolute. "This doesn't define you. You're not him. You're nothing like him."
"But what if I am?" Harry's voice cracked as tears welled in his eyes. "What if this—thing—changes me? What if it's already changed me?!"
Grathorn's eyes flicked to Andromeda, sensing the weight of her emotions.
"It hasn't," Andromeda snapped, cutting off Harry's spiral. She tilted his chin up, forcing him to meet her gaze. "You're still Harry. Brave, kind, stubborn Harry. That thing in you? It's not you. Do you understand me?"
Harry nodded weakly, though the fear in his eyes was far from gone.
The goblin king cleared his throat, drawing their attention back to him.
"Removing such a fragment is not a simple task," he said. "It is deeply embedded in the boy's very essence. Attempting to extract it could destroy him."
Andromeda's hand tightened on Harry's shoulder.
"There has to be another way," she said fiercely. "I won't let him carry this burden forever."
The goblin at the head of the table, a regal figure with an air of authority, spoke in a low, gravelly voice. "We regret, young wizard, that we do not know how to remove the fragment of the Dark Lord's soul from you without putting you in grave danger." His sharp eyes glinted in the candlelight, and the weight of his words hung in the air. "Any attempt to remove it directly could result in your death. The bond between you and the soul fragment is too strong."
Harry's stomach twisted at the thought of what might happen if he tried to sever the connection. It had been bad enough when the connection to Voldemort had caused him so much pain, but the idea of it killing him outright was a horrifying prospect. He glanced at Andromeda, whose face was filled with concern, but she remained composed.
Andromeda spoke up, her voice steady yet laced with worry. "I understand the danger, but we need to know if there's a way to destroy the Horcrux that we found in the vault. Is there hope for us to destroy it safely?"
The Goblin King leaned back in his chair, his sharp claws resting on the table as he considered the question. His gaze shifted to the other goblins in the room before returning to Andromeda. "It is possible," he said slowly, "but it will require specific methods. The Horcrux must be destroyed, yes, but the destruction must be complete and final. The use of a Basilisk's fang or a spell like the Feudeymon Curse would suffice in destroying the Horcrux, but the danger is not in the destruction itself— it is in handling the cursed object."
Harry's heart raced as he took in the information.
"Thank you," Andromeda said softly, her voice thick with emotion. "We'll take the information you've given us. Please keep this conversation between us."
The Goblin King nodded solemnly. "You have my word. It shall remain secret. And Dont worry We're going to assume responsibility and destroy the two Horcruxes we've already found, including the journal you gave us and the one located in the vault of one of our clients, so you'll only be left with four to discover."
Andromeda is pleased that two of her abominations are in the goblins' responsibility, so she'll take her time to understand how to destroy the one inside Harry without killing him.
As they left the goblin council room, Harry's mind was swirling with the implications of what they had learned. He had no idea how he would destroy the Horcrux— or what the cost would be.
Andromeda stood in front of Harry, her face set in a thoughtful expression as she pondered their next move. "You know," she began, her voice low but filled with conviction, "the Black family house might hold the key to more answers. It's full of magic—dark magic, yes, but there are also many books, records, and information that could help us."
Harry looked at her, his mind racing. He had already visited the Black family house several times, explored its vast library, and encountered the strange, sometimes eerie artifacts within. Andromeda was right—there was a treasure trove of knowledge there, knowledge that could help them in their fight against Voldemort.
"You're right," Harry replied, his voice steady but filled with determination. "We've already found so much in that house—it's where we discovered the truth about my parents, after all. If there's a way to destroy the last Horcruxes, it could be hidden there. We need to go back."
With a simple motion of her wand, Andromeda activated a spell, and they both disappeared in a swirl of blue light. The familiar sensation of being displaced in space made Harry's stomach flip, but before he could fully adjust, they were standing on a quiet street in London. The air was thick with magic, and Harry felt an odd shiver run down his spine as he looked up at the imposing, gothic house in front of them.
It had always been dark and eerie, even in its prime, but now, years after it had been abandoned, it seemed even more foreboding. The windows were boarded up, the stonework crumbling in places, but the house still held an unmistakable air of power. Harry could almost feel the history clinging to the walls.
"Are you ready?" Andromeda asked, her tone gentle but resolute.
"Yeah," Harry replied, swallowing his unease. He stepped forward, the Black family crest engraved on the door seeming to glow faintly in the moonlight as they approached. It was a strange feeling, knowing that he was the one who now had the right to enter—this house, once full of hatred and secrets, was his by inheritance.
They stepped inside, and Harry couldn't help but feel like everytime he is there ,the weight of the house's history pressing on him. It was as if the walls were watching, judging him for daring to enter, but there was something oddly comforting in that as well. It was his heritage, after all.
Andromeda led him through the darkened hallways, the faint light from her wand casting long shadows along the walls.
Andromeda stepped gracefully toward the fireplace, her fingers brushing against the worn stone of the hearth. The Black family home had always felt cold to her, even when she was a child. The faded tapestries that once hung proudly on the walls now seemed like relics of a past she had long left behind. The words of her aunt, Walburga Black, still echoed in the dark corners of the house, even if she was no longer there in person.
With a deep breath, Andromeda took a handful of Floo powder from the jar on the mantle and tossed it into the fire. The flames flickered a bright green, and she spoke clearly.
The familiar green flames swirled in response, and within moments, Sirius' face appeared in the hearth, framed by the flickering fire.
"Sirius," Andromeda greeted, her tone soft but resolute. "I need you to come over, please. Bring Remus, if he's with you."
Sirius' face was still partially hidden by the soot and ash, but his eyes, always sharp, were immediately focused on her. He raised an eyebrow, sensing the seriousness in her voice.
"Understood," he said, his voice deep and steady. "We'll be there in a moment."
As the flames in the hearth died down, Andromeda could already hear the distant echoes of her aunt's voice. Walburga's harsh words—disdainful, venomous—seemed to haunt the walls of the house. It was strange, really, how a woman who had given birth to her cousin could sound so distant, as though she had never known the meaning of love. Andromeda shook her head, as if to clear the memories, and began pacing around the room.
Within minutes, the fire flared back to life, and Sirius' face appeared again. His features were softened by the grime of the floo, but there was a warmth in his eyes that immediately comforted Andromeda. Behind him, she could see Remus, stepping carefully out of the flames with a quiet, welcoming smile.
"Thanks for coming so quickly," Andromeda said as they both stepped fully into the room. She gestured toward the chairs near the window, where the soft light of dusk was filtering through.
Remus nodded, always the calm one in moments of tension. "Of course. What's going on, Andromeda? You sounded... urgent."
Sirius gave his usual half-smirk, a mixture of concern and impatience. "What's going on with my mother ? Still yelling at the walls?"
Andromeda's lips twisted into a brief, bitter smile. " Like Always. "
Sirius stopped pacing and turned toward Andromeda. "You called me here for something serious," he said, his voice steady but laced with curiosity. "What's going on?"
Andromeda took a deep breath, her fingers trembling slightly as she adjusted the hem of her sleeve. She'd been avoiding this conversation, not wanting to burden Sirius and Remus, but now the truth could no longer be hidden.
"I didn't want to tell you at first," she began slowly, her gaze lowering to her hands. "I didn't think it was that dangerous. But now…" She trailed off, her voice faltering for a moment.
Remus leaned forward, his brow furrowing in concern. "Andromeda, what is it? You've got our attention."
Andromeda exhaled shakily and met their eyes. "It's about Harry. And the diary he found in his second year at Hogwarts."
Sirius's eyes darkened as he crossed his arms, taking a seat beside Remus. "The diary?" he asked, his voice heavy with understanding.
Andromeda nodded. "Yes. A diary that caused so much trouble for harry and Ginny Weasley But the truth is far worse than i thought."
Remus glanced between them, the air growing heavier with the weight of what Andromeda was about to reveal.
"Harry found the diary during his second year," she continued, her voice lowering. "It was a cursed object, enchanted with very dark magic. The goblins_helped us neutralize its effects on Ginny. They've been studying this type of magic ever since, trying to find a way to destroy it for good."
Sirius's jaw tightened. "And they've found something?"
Andromeda nodded. "Yes. The goblins have discovered a way to destroy this kind of magic. But here's the horrifying part: the diary is not the only one. They've traced this magic back to Voldemort. He's used it on several objects, and there are more out there, hidden in the world, all tied to dark forces."
Andromeda took a deep breath, her voice low and grave. "The Dark Magic... it's not just in the objects we've been dealing with. It's inside Harry. It's in his soul ."
Sirius, who had been sitting in silence, suddenly leaned forward, his eyes wide with a dangerous intensity. "What kind of Dark Magic are you talking about, Andromeda?" His tone was sharp, demanding answers.
Andromeda's gaze softened for a moment, but there was an undeniable sadness in her eyes. She clasped her hands together, almost as if she were weighing her next words carefully. "The worst kind. The kind that's been used by Voldemort, and not just in the objects, Harry... are a Horcrux."
The silence that followed was deafening. Sirius's face drained of color, his lips parted in disbelief. Remus, who had been listening quietly, furrowed his brow, the confusion in his eyes turning into concern. "A... Horcrux?" He repeated, his voice thick with unfamiliarity. "But... what does that mean exactly? I... I don't understand."
Andromeda explained, her voice soft yet steady, as though she were choosing her words carefully to avoid the full horror of her revelations. " he devides Each one a piece of his soul. He split himself apart, Remus, and hid these pieces in objects or beings that he deemed... worthy."