As Harry continued his journey through Hogwarts, his mind was constantly drawn back to the letter and the mysterious words about the Brotherhood. He began to search for more information, spending long hours in the restricted section of the library, piecing together fragments of the Assassin's history.
One night, while practicing in the Room of Requirement, he felt a shift in the air. A figure emerged from the shadows — tall, cloaked, and wearing a familiar insignia. The man moved with the silent grace of a predator, and Harry instinctively knew who he was.
"You've been searching for us," the figure said, his voice calm and measured. "I'm Marcus Altair, a descendant of the Altair family. Your family and mine have been connected for centuries, through blood and battle."
Harry stared, his mind racing. "Why now? Why didn't anyone tell me sooner?"
"Because you weren't ready," Marcus replied. "You've been trained as a wizard, but that's only half of what you are. The Potter line is more than magic. Your intellect, your instincts — they come from the Assassin's bloodline. You were always meant to be more than just a wizard."
Harry's eyes darkened. "And what exactly am I meant to do?"
Marcus stepped forward, his expression serious. "There is a war brewing, one that goes beyond Voldemort and the Death Eaters. The Staff of Eden has resurfaced — an ancient artifact that can bend reality itself. If it falls into the wrong hands, the world will be plunged into chaos. The Brotherhood was founded to protect humanity from such threats. You, Harry, are the last hope of the Potters and the Brotherhood."
The words sank in, heavy with meaning. Harry had always known he was different, but now he understood why. His destiny was not just to defeat Voldemort, but to protect the world from the shadows — to carry on the legacy of his ancestors, the founders of the Assassin Brotherhood.
"Then teach me," Harry said, his voice steady. "Teach me everything I need to know."
Marcus smiled. "Your training begins tonight."