A middle-aged man with light-blonde hair walked through the opulently decorated corridor of his family manor. The expensive rug covering the floor and the golden chandelier that hung from the ceiling demonstrated very explicitly the riches his house boasted of.
"Elf!" Lucius Malfoy shouted.
A diminutive creature with bandaged hands and a rug covering its skinny frame appeared, bowing low in subservience.
"Fetch me a bottle of firewhiskey and make sure to come up with my dinner here in my study. Now scram!"
The creature bowed low and vanished as the man sneered and entered his study. Walking over to the chair, the man sat down with a sigh and placed his cane on the large wooden desk.
"Fucking Arthur Weasley," the man hissed, sighing when a bottle of firewhiskey, a glass, and a small charmed bucket of ice appeared in front of him. He quickly uncorked the bottle and poured himself more than half a glass, gulping the alcohol down in one breath.
The man hissed at the burning sensation and poured another two rounds, gulping them down in two quick breaths before slamming his glass on the desk.
Arthur Weasley worked in the Misuse of Muggle Artifacts Office. A useless component in the ministry manned by only the man and his assistant that concerned itself with the oddities and quirks of those inferior creatures deemed unworthy of the gift of magic.
The man had always been at odds with him, and it seemed the same could be said about their sons as well. However, his headache had nothing to do with Weasley's youngest son but with the man himself.
The man had managed to get his worthless Muggle Protection Act passed by the slimmest of margins and had begun to conduct raids on several wizarding households to confiscate dark and illegally enchanted objects that could be harmful to muggles. As if!
Already, a few of his associates had their houses raided and several of their possessions confiscated, and Lucius knew his house could be next. So far, his galleons had prevented the man at every opportunity, and there were many. It seemed the man was hellbent on singling him out.
Lucius had already started taking the required steps to clear his tracks. He had loaned a few artifacts to a few of his associates and would be visiting Borgin the next day to take care of the rest. Weasley would be hard-pressed to find anything in his home, and Lucius' retribution would be remorseless. Once he was done with the paper pusher, not even that hovel he called home would remain with him.
He pulled the drawer and stared at the items within – items he would be selling at Borgin and Burkes, and his eyes fell on a certain black leather-bound diary.
His Lord's diary.
Years ago, his lord had entrusted him with this artifact. An artifact so powerful that it could do his lord's bidding without his presence. Lucius did not know what kind of magic enabled it, and he had no inclination of knowing either. However, as he gazed upon the diary, a plan began forming in his mind.
His lord had tasked him with opening the fabled Chamber of Secrets with this artifact and purging Hogwarts of the mudbloods. It was without a doubt another dark artifact, and he needed to get rid of it as well.
He stared at the dinner that appeared in front of him.
"Indeed, that could work. Destroying Weasley's reputation, eliminating another incriminating dark artifact, and purging Hogwarts of all filthy blood. All in one small move," Lucius smirked as he softly caressed the artifact. "And who knows, perhaps I could exploit the chaos that would ensue to get rid of that meddling old coot as well."
He never saw the diminutive creature that stared at him in horror before vanishing away.
-Break-
Harry turned around at the sound of the floo and smiled as his friends came one by one. He stood up and exchanged warm hugs with Hannah and Susan and a firm clap on the back with Neville.
"Harry Birthday, Harry," they greeted him. Harry smiled and thanked them as he led them inside.
"Holy shit, this place is huge!" Hannah exclaimed, looking around with wide eyes. Susan and Neville also nodded, looking mightily impressed. Harry smiled to himself. His house was indeed impressive.
"Come on, I'll show you around," he said and walked forward, leaving his friends to follow.
It had been a month since the summer holidays had started, and it was the best summer Harry had ever had.
Right after they had disembarked the Hogwarts Express, Harry bid farewell to his friends and immediately went to Gringotts. He had commissioned the bank's services to look for a property fitting for the House of Potter.
Harry had discovered some time ago that the ancestral Potter Manor had been destroyed in a Death Eater attack. His father had still been at Hogwarts when Voldemort had personally led an attack. His grandparents had fought valiantly, dealing a severe blow to Voldemort's ranks. However, they had eventually been overwhelmed. It was all public record, and as per the papers he found, Voldemort had destroyed the property with Fiendfyre. The cursed fire had taken care of everything, and in the end, nothing but ashes remained.
Since Potter Manor didn't exist anymore and the land on which it was built was rendered unlivable, Harry decided to acquire another property for his house. Money was not a problem anymore, and it was evident when he saw the mansion that would be his home from now on.
Gringotts had definitely made a big fat load of galleons from the commission.
Harry had taken a few days to get settled in his new home. To be entirely honest, it was too big for one person. However, Harry found he didn't care. He had his privacy and he could do whatever he wanted without anyone bothering him.
The mansion came with a fully equipped muggle gym. Harry had been exercising in the Come and Go Room during the past year, and it was good that he would not be missing out much when he could no longer access the miraculous room. However, he certainly lacked in the magical department. There was no advanced practice arena for him to replicate the sheer variety the Come and Go Room offered him. Instead, all he had was a small area in the basement where he could practice his spellcasting with one training dummy. At least it was better than nothing.
He had also taken time to make good on his promises and visited Neville, Susan, and Hannah at their homes. Where Hannah's parents were warm and welcoming, with her father even teasing his daughter with suggestive looks toward him, much to the blonde's embarrassment, Susan's aunt and Neville's grandmother were the exact opposite.
Harry had interacted once with Amelia Bones when she had come to Hogwarts after Halloween. They had not talked much, only introduced themselves and expressed their desire to renew their alliance in the Wizengamot. He found her a stern, no-nonsense type of woman – fitting for the role of the director of the DMLE. She had asked him several questions about his life prior to Hogwarts and how he was finding his time in the Wizarding World. Harry saw no reason to disclose his deepest, darkest secrets and admitted readily about the monotonous life he'd had in the orphanage before expressing how he had seamlessly settled at Hogwarts. The woman was visibly impressed when Susan told her about how advanced he was. Harry simply shrugged in response. It was true, after all.
Neville's grandmother, on the other hand, was even sterner than Amelia Bones, if that was even possible. She had been curt during their entire time together, and Harry immediately disliked the woman. Although she was Neville's grandmother, she had this unhealthy disposition of comparing Neville with anyone she thought was better than him. She was never explicit, and Harry could not help but frown whenever she seemed to indirectly compare Neville with either Frank Longbottom – her son, or him. One glance at his friend told him that he was not comfortable with the treatment either, and for the first time, Harry wondered what Neville's childhood with this woman had been like.
Harry showed his friends around the house, and they stared around, impressed, at all the amenities it came with. Their friend had surely not cut any corners.
"Merlin, you have an indoor pool too!?" Hannah shouted excitedly. Harry chuckled.
"Alright, you idiot. Move on," Susan pinched her friend's waist, who cried out and pushed her over the edge. Susan's eyes widened, and before she could tumble over the edge, Harry quickly grabbed her hand and pulled her back.
"Merlin, are you mad!?" The redhead cried out in shock as she steadied herself against Harry, staring at an unrepentant Hannah who turned her head.
"Should've thought about it before pinching me."
"You…"
"Okay girls, that's enough. We're here for some fun, remember?" Harry interjected swiftly as the girls kept glaring at each other, and he exchanged an exasperated look with Neville, who could only shrug helplessly. "Come on, let me show you the view outside."
They walked upstairs and Harry led them toward the outer gallery. They winced under the sudden rays of sunlight before they blinked slowly and their eyes widened.
"Merlin's tits," Susan whispered. "This is beautiful."
It was indeed a beautiful sight. Clear blue skies, beautiful crystal water, and a soft sandy beach as far as the eye could see. His mansion overlooked the entire expanse of the English Channel off the coast outside of Falmouth.
Hannah and Neville only nodded inaudibly. The quartet spent over an hour relaxing in the pleasant sea breeze that wafted over them before Harry led them inside.
"Ready for your birthday gift, Harry?" Hannah turned toward him with a grin, and Harry looked at her with a smile.
"We honestly didn't know what to get you. You're already so advanced, afterall. So we all pitched in and got you this," Susan smiled and pulled out a large package from her Bottomless Bag. Harry's eyes widened when he looked at the shape.
"Is this?" He asked in surprise as he unwrapped it. A sleek, black handle protruded out as his friends watched with grins.
"Uh-huh, the Nimbus 2001 – the best broom there is on the market," Hannah proclaimed proudly. Harry pushed the wrappings away and stared at the broom in wonder. He had been meaning to buy one, but now there was no need to.
"Thanks, guys. This is brilliant," he grinned.
"Come on, take this baby out already!" Hannah exclaimed, and Harry chuckled as he nodded.
His friends followed behind him as Harry walked out into the massive courtyard and mounted the broom.
"Ready?"
They nodded, and Harry grinned. Immediately, the broom shot forward at a rapid pace, and it was the fastest Harry had ever traveled. The school brooms couldn't even compare. How could they? This was the bloody Nimbus! The broom turned with the lightest touch and the ground rushed behind him. As he looked down, he saw his friends waving. They looked like tiny dots on a grassy expanse.
Harry whooped and settled himself properly. Staring straight ahead, he fizzed through the air. The sea in the distance beckoned him, and Harry rushed forward, feeling the rushing cold air striking him furiously.
It was fifteen minutes later when Neville saw Harry returning, and he stood up with a grin. The girls stood up quickly as Harry slowed down and dismounted in front of them.
"That was brilliant!" He exclaimed, and it was probably the happiest they had ever seen Harry. Normally, he was always serious, perhaps even stoic, and very focused. However, right now, that person was nowhere to be seen. Right now, he was looking like a proper teenager enjoying a fun day out with his friends.
"Well, glad you liked it," Susan chuckled as they walked in. Harry nodded. He'd indeed liked it very much indeed.
"Would you try out for the Quidditch team? You're bloody brilliant on the broom. You'll get in easily," Hannah grinned as the other two nodded.
Harry looked thoughtful for a moment as he pondered upon it. He had indeed thought about joining the Quidditch team this year. However, he didn't know if he could spare enough time to join the practice sessions he would surely have to attend. Then there was the fact that he liked flying, and even though a Quidditch match would be thrilling in its own right, he wouldn't be able to feel the freedom he felt whenever he flew by himself.
Harry shrugged.
"I don't think I will. I might change my mind though, who knows?"
Hannah looked at him in exasperation.
"Well, tryouts are held in the first few weeks, so I'd suggest you make up your mind soon."
Harry nodded.
-Break-
It was a few hours later when his friends had gone back home that he was visited by an uninvited and unfamiliar guest. Harry looked down in confusion at the house elf that had popped out of nowhere, bypassing the security around his property with relative ease. Harry didn't like it, not one bit, even though the creature seemed entirely harmless.
It seemed he would have to improve the security.
However, currently, he was staring, baffled, at the house elf who was bowing his head so low that his nose was touching the floor.
"Yes?" Harry asked in bemusement.
"Harry Potter!" The house elf suddenly exclaimed, shooting up and staring at him with those large, wide eyes. "So long has Dobby wanted to meet you, sir! It is an honor, it is!"
Harry nodded slowly, staring at the rag the creature was wearing. If he had to guess, his living conditions were not great, and nor was the treatment he received. Clearly, he was not a Hogwarts elf and belonged to a pureblood house that treated house elves like inferior creatures.
"Good to meet you too, Dobby. What do you want from me?"
"Dobby has come to warn Harry Potter! Yes, Harry Potter must not go to Hogwarts this year!"
Harry looked at the elf with a frown, wondering what his game was.
"Look, why don't you take a seat and explain everything properly?"
The elf's eyes bugged out even more if it was possible, and Harry's eyes widened when he wailed.
"T-take a seat!?" Dobby wailed pathetically. "Never… never sir! Lowly Dobby cannot sit with a wizard! Nobody has ever asked Dobby to sit with a wizard… like an equal…" he trailed off, mumbling softly.
Harry sighed. He should've known. Unlike the Hogwarts house elves, Dobby belonged to a family which probably abused him. It was a given that the creature would have a downtrodden opinion of itself. Even Hogwarts elves were surprised whenever he was kind to them.
He felt for these creatures, particularly those who belonged to less-than-pleasant masters.
"Well, I'm asking now. So take a seat on that chair, Dobby," Harry instructed firmly, and the elf looked up at him with teary eyes. "Do it or I'll make you."
Slowly, with shaking legs, Dobby walked over to the chair and hoisted himself on it. Harry stared at his bony legs dangling off and frowned as he stared at him.
"Now tell me what you want to say."
Dobby looked at him in utter adoration, and Harry admitted to being slightly uncomfortable at that look. It was true that he basked in other people's admiration of him, but it looked odd coming from this elf.
"Dobby has come to warn Harry Potter! Harry Potter must not go back to Hogwarts!"
Harry nodded. "And why not?"
"There is a plot, Harry Potter! A plot to make terrible things happen at Hogwarts! Dobby tried to stop Harry Potter from getting letters from his friends so Harry Potter will think his friends forgot him, but Harry Potter never got any letters!"
Harry glared at the elf. "You were monitoring my mail!?"
"Only to protect you, sir. Only to protect you. But you never got any."
"I visited them instead," Harry shrugged.
"Such a wise wizard Harry Potter is!" Dobby gushed, to his utter puzzlement. "Visiting friends is such a noble deed. Harry Potter is as great as they say!"
"Yeah, okay. What plot are you talking about?" Harry asked, not in the mood to hear a house elf gushing over him.
"Dobby cannot say, sir! Dobby is disobeying his master by coming here. When Dobby gets home, Dobby will iron his hands in punishment, yes he will."
Harry stared at the elf's burnt hands with a frown. Evidently, it was a frequent occurrence.
"I see," he frowned, wondering how to extract more information from this creature. Merely knowing that something bad was going to happen at Hogwarts was indeed concerning, but he needed more.
Inadvertently, the image of malevolent crimson eyes glaring at him came to the forefront of his mind, and Harry stared at Dobby with keen eyes.
"It has to do with Voldemort, doesn't it?" He asked firmly.
"Say not the name!" Dobby screeched, throwing himself off the chair and hiding under it. Harry frowned at the cowering elf as it covered its floppy ears with its hands.
"Alright," he sighed. "It has something to do with him, right? An attempt to get his power back?"
"No, Harry Potter! He-who-must-not-be-named is not doing it," Dobby whispered as he slowly came out from under the chair and stared at him. Harry's eyes widened in surprise.
"It isn't? Who is it then?" He asked urgently, hoping against hope that Dobby would give him something.
"M-master…"
That was all Dobby could make out before he started to furiously slam his head against the floor. Harry frantically pulled him back, throwing him on the chair and holding him firmly against it.
"Okay, okay, I get it. You can't answer. You don't have to," he assured him quickly before stepping back. He didn't want the creature to hurt itself anymore.
"Dobby is very sorry, Harry Potter. Dobby cannot betray his master," the elf sobbed as Harry looked on with a frown. Dobby's master, whoever it was, was the one involved in this scheme. That much was obvious now.
"Tell me Dobby, am I right in assuming that you don't like to serve your master?"
Dobby nodded, "Dobby doesn't. Dobby wants to be free."
Harry grimaced. For an elf to say that it wanted to be free, the situation had to be really bad. However, Harry was shocked once again when the elf started to punch itself hard in the face.
"Bad Dobby, badmouthing his master. Bad Dobby."
"Oh stop it already!" Harry sighed, exasperated as he held the elf's hands away, forcing him to stop punching himself. Dobby stared at him morosely. Harry truly felt bad for the creature.
"Listen Dobby, I will be going to Hogwarts. But I promise I will take care. Now that you've told me about the existence of a plot, I'll be able to remain extra careful. Don't worry," he said as soothingly as he could. However, the elf jumped off the chair and looked at him with pleading eyes.
"No! Harry Potter must not go back to Hogwarts! Terrible things will happen! Harry Potter is in danger!"
Harry stared at the creature in exasperation. It was truly hellbent on stopping him from going.
"Why only me? There are hundreds of students at Hogwarts. Why are you warning only me? Am I the only one who will be in danger?"
Dobby stared at him morosely. "Dobby cannot say, Harry Potter! But Harry Potter must not go back to Hogwarts!"
"I'm sorry but I cannot agree to that. I will be going to Hogwarts."
"Than Dobby will stop Harry Potter!" Dobby declared resolutely, to Harry's immense surprise. "Dobby will not let Harry Potter go to Hogwarts."
Harry pursed his lips, glaring at the creature now. His patience was running thin. However, instead of getting intimidated, the creature smiled sadly.
"Dobby gets threatened every day, sir. Dobby is used to glares."
Harry clicked his tongue in annoyance. There was no use in trying to reason with this creature.
"Okay then, you've given me no choice. Have you heard of Amelia Bones? She's the Director of the DMLE. I will call on her and I will tell her that a house elf named Dobby came to my house and warned me of a dangerous plot at Hogwarts this year. I'm sure she will easily find out who your master is. Sounds good, right?"
Dobby's eyes shot open in alarm, and before Harry could say anything else, the elf vanished.
Harry kept staring at the spot where the elf had just vanished from before dropping onto the chair and rubbing his face tiredly.
"Fucking hell, not again…"
-Break-
His encounter with Dobby reminded him that he needed to acquire a house elf of his own. There was no way he could maintain this property without the help of one.
However, it irked him to bind a creature to him in servitude, even if he was not going to treat it like a certain few wizarding households.
He decided to deliberate on the matter at a later date, and sighing, he got up and made his way down to his training arena.
Immediately, his eyes fell on the book written by Antonin Dolohov. He had started reading the book a few weeks ago, and he had to admit that the man deserved to be called one of Voldemort's most capable followers. However, Harry did not let the fact deter him from reading his work. Dolohov might be an evil wizard, but his knowledge was among the very best he could hope to find.
The book detailed some of the foulest spells he could've ever imagined. Spells that were better left not to fight, but to torture someone. Harry was left to wonder for a few moments whether a few of them were even worse than the Cruciatus. The fact remained that even if they were not, he never wanted to be subjected to any of those curses.
Torture spells and curses aside, the book also detailed some dark or borderline dark curses which he could see himself using against his enemies. He would never use those spells against persons who were of no threat to him, however, he had started to learn them.
Voldemort was a master of dark arts, and even at his weakest, he had been flinging dark curses. Harry was sure he would've been a goner had even one of them made contact with him. He needed to learn everything he could so that he could defend himself from the darkest of magic. To fight and win against Voldemort, he needed to become an expert in dark and obscure magic as well. He needed to become as knowledgeable and dangerous as him if he wanted to stand a chance.
Harry harbored no delusions that he had a clean conscience. He had killed when he was for all intents and purposes a child, and to this day, he felt no remorse in doing the deed. Only regret. Regret that he had not done it sooner. Regret that he had let that harridan torture and abuse him for so long. It did not affect him that he would be learning what people considered dark magic. It was something he would use against someone who deserved it. Nothing else.
The schoolbooks he had read all said that it was the purpose of Defense Against the Dark Arts to prepare one to protect oneself. Harry had to scoff at that naïve notion. What he would be up against was not something he could defend himself from if he only relied on the knowledge Hogwarts had to offer. He needed to broaden his horizons, and Dolohov's book was a very good start.
The book also distinguished between dueling and fighting. Initially, Harry had thought that dueling was what they called fighting in the magical world. However, he couldn't have been more wrong. It seemed the distinction existed in the magical world as well.
Dueling was like a professional wrestling match wherein one had to abide by certain rules and regulations, failing which one was disqualified. However, fighting was raw. It was doing whatever one could in order to survive. There were no rules when it came to fighting. The only purpose was to take care of one's opponent by any means necessary.
Harry understood that even better after the ordeal with Quirrell and Voldemort.
Apart from enhancing the level of his offensive spells with the help of Dolohov's book, Harry had also begun to study the subject of Ancient Runes. Although normally he would start it the next year, he decided to get a head start in the subject as well considering he was already studying the fifth-year material in his core subjects bar Astronomy and History.
Runes proved to be a very versatile branch of magic, and they introduced him or rather pointed him toward another branch of magic that was forbidden to the wizarding populace.
Rituals.
The ministry had deemed the practice dark and had purged all the books detailing rituals from public archives. No bookstore was allowed to sell books that consisted of rituals. Harry found this degree of censorship to be more intriguing, and he resolved to see whether he could find any books on rituals in the Restricted Section with the help of the Come and Go Room when he went to Hogwarts.
His hands softly caressed the cover of the book he was holding, and Harry stared at it thoughtfully. Nodding to himself, he stood up and placed the book on the table before he walked upstairs to his room.
Five minutes later, the floo flashed emerald and Harry Potter vanished from the Potter Mansion.
-Break-
Borgin emerged from the backroom and stared keenly at the hooded wizard perusing through the shelves. He saw the wizard reaching up to grab a book, looking at it for over a minute before turning around, and he smiled.
"Ah, Mr. Potter, I was wondering when you would grace me with your presence once again."
The wizard in front of him simply placed a book on the counter, and Borgin's eyebrows furrowed when he stared at it. It was an old, worn-out book with yellowed pages that were torn at the binding. A few pages were in danger of falling out, and no matter how many spells or rolls of spellotapes he had tried on it, nothing seemed to work.
"You want to buy this book?" Borgin asked skeptically. He had tried to read through the book once. However, he could never make the heads or tails of it. However, if the young man in front of him could indeed read it, well, fair play to him then. He wondered how much he should charge the lad for it though.
Without even any prompting on his part, the boy placed a small bag full of galleons on the counter, and Borgin had to stop himself from reaching forward and grabbing it. The amount he had offered was significantly more than what he had been planning on asking. Borgin was not one to look a gift horse in the mouth, and he grinned at the young man.
"Once again, a pleasure doing business with you, Mr. Potter."
The wizard simply gave a nod and took the book with him. Borgin stared as he walked out and chuckled to himself.
-Break-
Harry had indeed thought right. He had theorized that Borgin and Burkes must have something about rituals and decided to pay the shop another visit.
The moment he entered the shop, he walked over to the bookshelves and started perusing through, looking for any book that might have a mention of rituals. However, to his immense disappointment, he found that there was not even a single book that discussed rituals.
He felt Borgin come over at the counter and was about to personally ask the man whether he had any books regarding the subject he was looking into when his eyes fell on a battered book at the top corner of one of the shelves. Frowning, Harry pulled it down and looked at it. The book was truly in a state of disrepair, and he turned the cover.
His eyes widened when he looked at the title, his heart beating fast. The name of Salazar Slytherin was enough to make his pulse quicken.
When Harry arrived here, he had expected to find a book that could help him learn more about rituals. Never had he expected that he would find a book written by Slytherin himself. Any thoughts of rituals fled from his mind. Knowing how priceless the book truly was, Harry immediately turned around and wasted no time.
Paying for the book, he left the shop as quickly as he could before getting back home and trudging down the stairs toward his training arena.
Taking a seat on the chair, Harry placed the book flat on the table and turned over the cover.
DESCENT TO THE DEPTHS by Salazar Slytherin
Harry's fingers caressed the title inscribed in black ink, and he smiled. This was a priceless book indeed. He turned another page and ran his eyes over the Foreword. His eyebrows raised as he read it.
He thought the book was written in English. However, as Slytherin informed via the Foreword, it was written in Parseltongue instead. Harry had read up on the language. After all, he spoke it.
Harry had been surprised initially when he found out that it was not common to be able to talk to snakes, and even more when he read that the trait was considered dark and reviled by most. People associated Parseltongue with dark wizards because of the historical connotations the language carried. Most of the wizards or witches in history who could speak the language had gone dark, with Voldemort being the latest addition to the long list. That had made people afraid of the language itself. Harry had to scoff at that.
He knew he needed to exercise caution. It would not do if it became public knowledge that he could speak Parseltongue.
Harry shoved those thoughts out of his mind and returned to reading the book, knowing that whatever knowledge it contained was bound to be precious and to be coveted.
He was improving fast and he was learning spells more dangerous than ever before, but he knew he had not even scraped the surface. Dobby's ominous warning was still fresh in his mind, and he knew whatever it was, Voldemort would be involved.
However, it would be different this time. Harry was determined to ensure it would.
TBC.
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