The scene of the crime was gruesome. Around him, the walls were splattered with blood, forming a sinister symbol: a hydra with a skull in the center.A team of investigators arrived. They quickly set up a protective barrier and began to examine the evidence. Harry realized there was something different about this case. The symbol had never been left at the previous murders.But what was the purpose of this symbol? What did it actually mean?Harry had no answers, only questions. He felt a cold shiver run down his spine as he looked at the skull. There was something familiar about it, something that nagged at his memory. And then he saw it. On the forehead of the skull, there was that faint engraving.Harry felt a surge of anger and fear. He knew what this meant. The killer was taunting him, challenging him, mocking him. The killer knew him, and wanted him to know it. But how? How did the killer know Harry? And how did Harry know the killer?Harry turned to his friends, who had accompanied him to the scene. Ron looked pale and shaken. Hermione, the brightest witch of her age, looked thoughtful and concerned. It seemed that now, a new threat had emerged. A threat that was somehow connected to their past."What do you make of this, Harry?" Ron asked, pointing at the skull. "What did the killer mean by 'Remember me'?"Harry shook his head. "I don't know, Ron. I don't know. But it's clear that the killer knows me, and wants me to remember something. Something that I've forgotten, or repressed, or ignored.""Maybe it's someone from our school days," Hermione suggested. "Someone who had a grudge against you, or us, or the Order of the Phoenix. Someone who was loyal to Voldemort, or who felt betrayed by him. Someone who survived the war, and went into hiding, and now wants revenge."Harry nodded. "That's possible, Hermione. But who? Who could it be? We know most of the Death Eaters who survived, and where they are. They're either in Azkaban, or under surveillance, or under the protection of the Ministry. And none of them have the power or the skill to pull off something like this. This killer is using a dark curse that we've never seen before. A curse that leaves no trace, except for this symbol. A curse that kills instantly, and painlessly. A curse that only the killer knows how to cast."
"But at the same time, it's different from before.", his voice turned into whisper.
"Maybe it's not a Death Eater, then," Ron said. "Maybe it's someone else. Someone who was close to Voldemort, or who learned from him. Someone who inherited his secrets, or his legacy. Someone who wants to finish what he started."Harry frowned. "But who, Ron? Who could that be? Voldemort didn't have any friends, or allies, or followers. He only had servants, and slaves, and enemies. He didn't trust anyone, or care for anyone, or love anyone. He was alone, and he died alone.""Are you sure about that, Harry?" Hermione asked. "Are you sure that Voldemort didn't have anyone who cared for him, or who he cared for? Are you sure that he didn't have any family, or any descendants, or any heirs?"Harry felt a chill in his heart. He remembered the prophecy that had haunted him for most of his life. The prophecy that had linked him to Voldemort, and had foretold their final confrontation. The prophecy that had said:"The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches... born to those who have thrice defied him, born as the seventh month dies... and the Dark Lord will mark him as his equal, but he will have power the Dark Lord knows not... and either must die at the hand of the other for neither can live while the other survives... the one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord will be born as the seventh month dies..."Harry had always assumed that the prophecy referred to him, and only him. He was the one who had been born to Lily and James Potter, who had thrice defied Voldemort. He was the one who had been born on the 31st of July, as the seventh month died. He was the one who had been marked by Voldemort, with a lightning-shaped scar on his forehead. He was the one who had power the Dark Lord knew not, the power of love. He was the one who had vanquished the Dark Lord, by sacrificing himself and then coming back to life.But what if he was wrong? What if there was another? Another who fit the prophecy, or part of it? Another who was born to those who had thrice defied Voldemort, or who was born as the seventh month died, or who had power the Dark Lord knew not, or who had been marked by him, or who had survived him?What if there was another child of prophecy?Harry shuddered. He hoped that it was not true. He hoped that he was the only one. He hoped that there was no one else who shared his fate, or his burden, or his destiny.But he could not be sure. He could not be sure of anything, anymore.He looked at his friends, and saw the same doubt and fear in their eyes. They were all thinking the same thing. They were all wondering the same thing.Who was the killer? And what did he want?They did not have much time to ponder, however. Soon, they received an urgent message from the Ministry of Magic. The Minister of Magic himself, Kingsley Shacklebolt, wanted to see them. He wanted to talk to them about the murders, and about the killer.They apparated to the Ministry, and made their way to the Minister's office. They passed through the familiar corridors and halls, but they noticed that many things had changed. The Ministry had undergone a major transformation after the defeat of Voldemort. It had become more open, more democratic, more diverse, and more progressive. It had also become more vigilant, more secure, more prepared, and more proactive. It had learned from its mistakes, and had vowed to never let them happen again.The Minister's office was spacious and elegant, decorated with portraits of past Ministers and symbols of the wizarding world. Kingsley Shacklebolt was sitting behind a large desk, looking grave and stern. He was a tall and muscular man, with dark skin and bald head. He had a deep and authoritative voice, and a piercing gaze. He was a former auror, and a member of the Order of the Phoenix. He had fought alongside Harry and his friends in the war, and had been instrumental in the reconstruction of the Ministry. He was a respected and trusted leader, and a friend to Harry and his friends.But now, he looked troubled and angry. He looked at Harry and his friends with a mix of concern and disappointment. He gestured for them to sit down, and then spoke."Harry, Ron, Hermione. Thank you for coming. I'm sure you know why I summoned you here.""Yes, sir," Harry said. "It's about the murders. And the killer."Kingsley nodded. "That's right. It's about the murders. And the killer. And you."Harry felt a jolt of surprise. "Me, sir?""Yes, you, Harry. You, and your involvement in this case. You, and your connection to this killer. You, and your responsibility for this situation."Harry felt a surge of confusion and indignation. "What do you mean, sir? What involvement? What connection? What responsibility?"Kingsley sighed. "Don't play dumb, Harry. You know what I mean. You know what the killer is doing. You know what the killer is saying. You know what the killer is implying. He is here for you. He is trying to send a message to you by killing the innocents."Harry felt a flash of anger. "No, I don't, sir. I don't know anything. I don't know who the killer is, or what he wants, or why he's doing this. I don't know why he's killing former Death Eaters, or why he's leaving that symbol, or why he's sending me messages. I don't know why he's saying 'Remember me', or what he wants me to remember. I don't know anything, sir. And neither do you."Kingsley frowned. "That's not true, Harry. You know more than you think. You know more than you admit. You know more than you want to know."Harry felt a chill in his soul. "What are you saying, sir?"Kingsley leaned forward, and looked at Harry with a serious and solemn expression. He spoke in a low and firm tone."I'm saying, Harry, that you are the Chosen One. You have what we all don't and that brings trouble. It makes me wonder sometimes if you are really the Chosen One or the Cursed One.""Sir Kingsley," Hermione shouted."That would be unfair to say according to me.", her voice lowered progressively. "Harry has been as worried and confused as we all are. He has always been the one to take the lead in all times of need. He is the Chosen One and he understands his responsibilities."Hermione's firm gaze pieces into Kingsley's eyes.Kingsley sighs and rubbing his forehead says," I am sorry Harry. The series of murders has just been so disturbing for the past few days. Being Minister of Magic brings a lot with it. I know you all are doing your best. I just want all of this to settle soon and I believe that you are the ones who can make it happen. So, leave everything else aside, and get into the depth of this matter. That's what I wanted to talk to you about.""Yes sir, we will.", Harry answers but his voice shakes.They leave the Ministry. "Don't worry Harry. It will all be fine. We have gotten through all the troubles; we will get through this too." Hermione leans in and gives Harry a hug. Then she smiles and leaves with Ron.Harry watched as Ron and Hermione walked away, arm in arm, laughing at some joke. He felt a pang of jealousy and sadness in his chest, as he realized how much he missed their friendship. He had been so busy with his work as an auror, that he had neglected his personal life. He had barely seen his wife Ginny, who was also busy with her career as a Quidditch reporter. He had hardly spent any time with his son James, who was growing more distant and rebellious every day. And he had not talked to Hermione and Ron for months, until this case brought them together again.Harry wished he could go back to the days when they were at Hogwarts, fighting Voldemort and his Death Eaters, having adventures and fun. He wished he could tell Hermione how he really felt about her, how he had always loved her, more than a friend. He wished he could change the past, and make different choices. His dormant feelings for her awakened and tormented him.But he knew it was too late. He had made his bed, and now he had to lie in it. He sighed and turned away, feeling lonely and miserable. He apparated to his home, hoping to find some comfort and peace.But he was greeted by an empty house. Ginny was away on a Quidditch assignment, and James was staying at his friend's place. Harry felt a surge of anger and resentment, wondering why his family didn't care about him. He threw his cloak and wand on the couch, and headed to the kitchen. He opened the fridge, looking for something to eat or drink. He found a bottle of firewhiskey, and decided to drown his sorrows in it.He poured himself a glass, and gulped it down. He felt the liquid burn his throat, and warm his stomach. He poured another glass, and another. He soon lost count of how many he had drunk. He felt his head spin, and his vision blur. He stumbled to his bedroom, and collapsed on the bed. He closed his eyes, and tried to sleep.But sleep did not come easily. He was haunted by nightmares, of Dumbledor suffocating him. All he could see was the forced expression on Dumbledor's face as his fingers pressed into and strangled him by his neck. He tossed and turned, sweating and groaning. He wished he could escape from his own mind, but he couldn't.He woke up with a start, when he heard a loud beep. He opened his eyes, and saw a small device on his bedside table. It was a communication device, given to him by the Ministry of Magic. It was used to send and receive messages from other aurors, or from the Ministry itself. It was beeping, indicating that he had a new message.He reached for the device, and pressed a button. A holographic screen appeared, showing the message. He read it, and felt a chill run down his spine. It said:"Hello, Harry Potter. I know who you are, and what you do. I also know who the killer is, and why he is doing it. If you want to know the truth, meet me at the Shrieking Shack, tonight, at midnight. Come alone, and don't tell anyone. This is your only chance. Trust me."Harry stared at the message, feeling confused and curious. Who was this person, and how did they know him? How did they know the killer, and what was their motive? Why did they want to meet him at the Shrieking Shack, the most haunted place in Britain? And why did they want him to come alone, and keep it a secret?Harry felt a surge of suspicion and fear, wondering if this was a trap. He remembered the last time he had gone to the Shrieking Shack, when he had learned the truth about Sirius Black, Remus Lupin, and Peter Pettigrew. He remembered the danger and the betrayal he had faced there. He wondered if this was a similar situation, or worse.But he also felt a spark of hope and excitement, thinking that this could be his chance to solve the case. He wanted to know who the killer was, and why he was killing the former Death Eaters. He wanted to stop him, before he killed again. He wanted to prove himself, to the Ministry, to his friends, to his family, and to himself.He made up his mind. He decided to go to the Shrieking Shack, and meet the mysterious source. He hoped that they were telling the truth, and that they had valuable information. He hoped that this was not a trap, and that he was not walking into his doom.He got up from the bed, and got ready. He put on his cloak and his wand, and checked the time. It was 11:30 pm. He had half an hour to get to the Shrieking Shack. He left a note for Ginny and James, telling them that he had gone out for some work, and that he would be back soon. He didn't mention anything about the message, or the meeting. He didn't want to worry them, or put them in danger.He left the house, and apparated to Hogsmeade. He walked through the dark and deserted streets, until he reached the edge of the village. He saw the Shrieking Shack, standing tall and ominous, in the distance. He felt a shiver of fear, as he remembered the stories and rumors about the place. He heard the wind howl, and the trees rustle. He wondered if he was making a mistake, or if he was doing the right thing.He took a deep breath, and walked towards the Shrieking Shack. He reached the gate, and opened it. He entered the grounds, and walked towards the door. He knocked on it, and waited.The door opened, and Harry saw a familiar face. A face nobody had seen for days. A face he had hated and despised. A face he had never expected to see again.It was Draco Malfoy, his old rival from Hogwarts."Hello, Potter," Draco said, with a smirk. "Long time, no see."Harry felt a shock of surprise, and a flash of anger. He clenched his fist, and raised his wand."What are you doing here, Malfoy?" Harry asked, with a glare. "Are you on a run?"Draco smiled, and gestured for Harry to come in."Come on, Potter, don't be rude. I'm the one who sent you the message. I'm the one who has the information you need. I'm the one who can help you catch the killer."Harry felt a wave of disbelief, and a hint of curiosity. He lowered his wand, and stepped inside."Fine, Malfoy, I'll bite. What do you know about the killer? And why are you helping me?"Draco closed the door, and led Harry to a room. He lit a candle, and revealed a table, with some papers and photographs on it."Sit down, Potter, and I'll tell you everything. But brace yourself, because what I'm about to tell you will shock you to the core."Harry sat down, and looked at Draco. He saw a change in his expression, from smugness to seriousness. He saw a flicker of fear and sadness in his eyes. He wondered what Draco had to say, and what it had to do with the killer.Draco took a deep breath, and began to speak."Potter, the killer is someone you know. Someone you've not met before. Someone who has a connection to you, and to the past. Someone who is not what he seems. Someone who is dangerous, and powerful, and mad."Harry felt a surge of impatience, and a touch of annoyance."Stop beating around the bush, Malfoy, and spit it out. Who is the killer?"Draco looked at Harry, and said, in a low voice."The killer is the unheard daughter of Severus Snape. They call her Eileen Snape."