Voldemort's POV
The dimly lit chamber of Voldemort's hideout was an amalgamation of shadows and flickering green light, cast by the eerie glow of enchanted sconces lining the walls. Lord Voldemort sat in his high-backed throne, his gaunt face etched with a mixture of frustration and cold malice. Before him knelt the remnants of his once-formidable Death Eater forces.
His crimson eyes swept across the room, filled with scorn. Bellatrix Lestrange, her wild black curls framing her face, trembled with barely contained fury, not from fear of him but from her humiliation during their failed assault on Hogwarts.
"We must retaliate, my Lord!" Bellatrix exclaimed, her voice desperate and pleading. "The school mocks us—I was mocked! Pink robes! They humiliated me in front of everyone!"
A collective silence descended on the chamber as Voldemort's thin lips curled into a cruel smile. With a flick of his wand, Bellatrix was hit with the Cruciatus Curse. Her screams echoed, shrill and raw, as she crumpled to the floor.
The curse lifted, and Bellatrix panted heavily, her body shaking as she tried to rise to her knees. "Forgive me, my Lord," she whispered hoarsely.
"Blow up the school?" Voldemort sneered, his voice a low hiss. "Do you think I am some petty villain, Bellatrix? Do you think I cannot see the value of Hogwarts as more than a monument of defiance? That place holds power—ancient, vast, and untapped."
The others dared not speak, their eyes downcast.
"This is not about humiliation," Voldemort continued, rising to his feet. His presence seemed to fill the chamber, oppressive and suffocating. "It is about control. If I destroy Hogwarts, I destroy an irreplaceable asset. No, we must take it. I must take it."
He began pacing, his thin fingers steepled in thought. "But we are weakened," he admitted. The words grated against his pride, but facts could not be ignored. "Potter has reduced us to fewer than half our original numbers. Dumbledore is gone, yes, but his army remains strong, emboldened by their pyrrhic victory. No… brute force will not work this time."
"What shall we do, my Lord?" asked a timid Death Eater from the shadows.
Voldemort stopped abruptly, his expression chilling. "We plan. We infiltrate. And when the time is right, Hogwarts will kneel."
The tension in the room grew thicker as Voldemort's crimson eyes glowed with malevolent intent. His voice dropped to a whisper, soft and deadly. "Leave me. I have much to ponder."
The Death Eaters bowed and scrambled to leave, eager to escape his oppressive presence. Only Bellatrix lingered, casting one last glance at her master before retreating.
Once alone, Voldemort turned to a map of Hogwarts laid across a stone table. He traced the outlines with a skeletal finger. His mind churned with schemes—new spells, ancient rituals, and darker allies to summon. Potter might have won a battle, but the war was far from over.
Back to Harry and His Group
Harry stood before the wrought-iron gates of Potter Manor, its sprawling grounds lush and vibrant under the mid-afternoon sun. The massive estate loomed before them, a testament to the ancient and noble family he belonged to.
The girls—Fleur, Daphne, Tracey, and Hermione—gasped collectively as they took in the sight.
"This is… incredible," Daphne murmured, her sharp blue eyes scanning the manicured gardens and intricate stonework of the manor.
"Magnifique," Fleur breathed, her gaze lingering on the stained-glass windows that caught the sunlight like jewels.
Hermione's mouth opened and closed as if she were trying to formulate a response. "Harry, this place is… it's like something out of history."
Tracey smirked. "Looks like Potter's been holding out on us."
Harry chuckled, shaking his head. "It's not like I ever needed to brag about a big house." He gestured toward the open doors, where a few house-elves peeked out before scampering away, clearly overjoyed at his return. "Come on, let's get to work."
Inside, the group marveled at the immaculate condition of the manor, its grand halls adorned with portraits of Potters past and enchanted chandeliers casting warm, welcoming light.
Harry led them to a heavily warded vault beneath the manor, where the ring of the Gaunts lay on a velvet pedestal. Its black stone glinted ominously under the soft light of the chamber.
"This is it," Harry said, his tone heavy. "The Resurrection Stone was removed from it years ago, but the ring itself is still cursed. And it's still a Horcrux."
Hermione frowned. "Even separated from the stone, it's dangerous. You were right to leave it here."
Harry retrieved a vial of basilisk venom from a shelf nearby, uncorking it carefully. "This should do the trick."
As he poured the venom over the ring, the metal hissed and bubbled, releasing an acrid smell. The blackened soul fragment within writhed, its faint screams reverberating in their ears before dissolving into nothingness.
"It's done," Harry said, his voice firm.
The group stood silently for a moment, letting the weight of their achievement sink in.
That evening, Harry and the girls retreated to the master bedroom, their laughter echoing through the manor's halls. They celebrated their victory intimately, the love and trust between them deepening with each shared moment.
The next morning, sunlight streamed through the windows as they lounged in bed, the warm glow illuminating their faces.
"So," Tracey began, stretching lazily, "when are we heading back to Hogwarts?"
Harry sat up, his expression thoughtful. "Not yet."
Hermione raised a brow. "Not yet? But the last two Horcruxes are there, isn't this what you told us earlier."
"I know," Harry said. "But I've been thinking… this is bigger than just finishing Voldemort. I want to learn more about magic—its origin, the kind of magic they don't teach us at Hogwarts. We've got time before he makes another move, and I don't want to waste it."
Fleur tilted her head, intrigued. "You wish to understand ze origins of magic?"
"Exactly," Harry said, nodding. "If we can understand it, master it, we'll be ready for anything."
Hermione's skepticism melted into curiosity. "That… actually makes sense. And it's not like we haven't already done more than Hogwarts could teach us."
Daphne smirked. "I'm in. Who needs essays and exams when you can uncover the secrets of magic itself?"
Tracey grinned. "You had me at 'not going back yet.'"
Fleur leaned into Harry's side, her silver hair brushing his arm. "Zen it is decided. We continue zis journey."
As they planned their next steps, Harry felt a deep sense of purpose. The final battle was still on the horizon, but for now, the road ahead was theirs to forge.
A little Help in the guise of Power Stones will not help me get healthy but it sure will warm my heart. Thanks for the Support.