It was a quiet, dark night. The only sounds were the occasional hooting of owls and the scurrying of rats. Diagon Alley was empty, for all the shops had shut long ago. The only light came from the windows of Gringott's Wizarding Bank, the safest and most respected bank in the world of magic.Inside the bank, a few goblins worked tirelessly, counting and sorting the heaps of gold, silver, and bronze that filled the vaults. They ignored the noise of footsteps in the entrance hall, thinking it was another goblin. They did not see the figure that crept past the iron gates and headed for the deepest and most protected vaults.The figure was a girl, barely sixteen, with long red hair and sharp black eyes. She wore a black cloak that hid her body and a mask that concealed her face. She held a wand in her hand, and a bag on her shoulder. She moved quickly and quietly, dodging the security cameras and the bewitched alarms. She had a goal, and she was resolved to achieve it.She came to the end of the corridor, where a huge metal door stood. The girl smiled and aimed her wand at the door. She whispered a word, and the door opened with a loud squeak.The vault was full of gold. There were piles of coins, bars, ingots, and jewels. There were also rare and precious items, such as old relics, charmed weapons, and magical creatures.She did not waste any time and started filling her bag with as much gold as she could. She did not care about the other items; she only wanted the money. She knew she had to be fast, as the goblins would soon notice that something was wrong. She had to escape before they found her.She was so absorbed in her task that she did not hear the footsteps behind her. She did not see the shadow that fell over her. She did not feel the hand that seized her shoulder and turned her around. She only realized she was not alone when she looked into a pair of furious yellow eyes.A growl came from behind her. "Who are you?" the voice demanded. "What are you doing here?"She spun around and saw a goblin glaring at her. He was short and stocky, with a shiny bald head and a pointed nose. He wore a guard's uniform, with a sword at his side and a badge on his chest. He was not the only one. Two more goblins stood behind him, ready to attack.She had expected this. She reached for her wand, but the goblin was quicker. He snatched it from her and threw it aside. He drew his sword and swung it at her.She dodged by instinct. She grabbed the nearest thing - a bag of gold - and hurled it at the goblin's face. It hit him with a thud and he collapsed, out cold. She sprinted for the door, hoping to get away. She didn't make it. The other goblins cut her off. They pointed their swords at her and hissed."Hold it, you dirty thief!" one of them yelled. "You're not going anywhere!"She knew she was cornered. But the goblins didn't know her secret. She was ready to use her dark magic.She let go of the bag of gold and clenched her hands. She felt a wave of power flow through her. She felt a surge of adrenaline fill her. She felt a blast of anger erupt in her. She opened her mouth and screamed.The scream was not a human scream. It was a scream of pure magic. It was a scream of agony and fury. It was a scream that broke the air and the walls. It was a scream that released a shockwave of dark energy that hit everything in its way.The goblins had no chance. They were struck by the force of the scream and flung back. They smashed into the walls and the floor, cracking bones and spilling blood. They were not dead, but they were badly hurt. They were no longer a problem.She did not spare a glance for the fallen goblins behind her. They meant nothing to her. She had only one goal in mind: to get out of there with her prize. She snatched up her sack of gold, clutched her wand in her hand and sprinted out of the vault. She dashed along the corridor, avoiding the falling rubble and the blazing flames. She headed for the exit, praying for a way to escape.She skidded to a halt as she reached the entrance hall. More goblins blocked her path. There was at least a dozen of them, all wielding weapons and looking furious. They had heard the explosion and had rushed to the scene. They had witnessed the destruction and had deduced the cause. They had identified the thief and had readied themselves to apprehend her.She knew she stood no chance against them. She flung her sack of gold at the closest goblin. She hoped to divert their attention and create a gap. She hoped to find a way out.She pointed her wand at the ceiling above. A bolt of lightning shot out of it, blood-red and piercing. It was a shriek of betrayal. It was a spell that conjured a mirage of fire and smoke. It was a power that bewildered and blinded the goblins.She seized the opportunity and ran for the exit. She shoved the goblins aside and reached the iron gates. In the struggle, her mask slipped off. She spotted a broomstick propped against the wall. She leapt on it and soared out of the bank and into the night sky. She got away.She looked down and saw the bank in flames. She saw the goblins scrambling and yelling. She saw the alarm bells ringing and the sirens wailing.She flew away, leaving behind a trail of gold and a mystery. She disappeared, leaving behind a trail of smoke and blood.***Harry and Hermione surveyed the scene of the latest murder, looking for any clues that might help them catch the killer. They had found Theodore Nott, a former Death Eater, lying dead on the floor of his dingy apartment in Knockturn Alley. The place was a mess, with only a few shabby pieces of furniture and a fireplace that barely gave any warmth. The walls were plastered with posters and pictures of Voldemort and his followers, as well as various dark creatures. Books and magazines about the Dark Arts were scattered everywhere, with titles like The Rise and Fall of the Dark Lord, The Dark Forces: A Guide to Self-Protection, and The Death Eater's Digest. The floor was covered with papers, bottles, and rubbish. The only window was nailed shut, and the only light came from a handful of candles and a feeble lamp. The air was thick with the smell of blood and smoke.Nott had been killed by the same dark curse that had claimed the lives of Lucius Malfoy and several others, a curse that burned his flesh and bones. But this time, the killer had left some parts of the body intact, and had carved a cryptic message into his skin. It read: "Don't mess.""What do you reckon it means?" Harry asked Hermione, as they bent over the body."I have no idea, Harry. It could be anything. A warning, a threat, or a taunt. All we know is that the killer is the same one who killed Malfoy. Another victim in the series. Maybe the killer is trying to send us a message. Maybe she wants us to back off. Or maybe she's just toying with us." Hermione said, her brow furrowed."Whoever she is, she's very smart and very dangerous. She knows how to use dark magic and how to hide her traces. She's been murdering people for months, and we still have no clue who she is or what she wants." Harry said, his voice tense."I still can't believe that she's Snape's daughter." Hermione said, shaking her head.Draco had disappeared without a trace days ago. The killings were getting out of control. They had a pattern, but no motive. They had a symbol, but no meaning.The symbol was a hydra, coiled around a skull. It was the killer's mark, and she left it at every crime scene."Where's Ron?" Harry asked, looking around."H... He's ill. He took the day off." Hermione said, avoiding Harry's eyes.Hermione's voice faltered slightly, and Harry knew she was lying. He had known her too long to be fooled by her. But he decided not to press her on it, as they had bigger problems to deal with.They had given Draco a chance to explain himself, but they had not trusted him completely. They had hoped he would reveal something useful, but before they could interrogate him, he had disappeared after his brief encounter with Harry. He had left behind a box with a picture of Harry's mother, Lily Potter, inside it.Harry and Hermione had been stunned and baffled by this twist. They had wondered what Eileen's motive was for leaving the picture of Lily. They had also wondered if the picture was genuine or forged, and what it signified. They had kept the picture and the box with them, hoping to solve the mystery.They were still clueless.They searched the crime scene, hoping to find another clue that could aid them. They spotted a staircase that led to the roof of the building. They decided to explore it, thinking that perhaps the murderer had escaped that way.They ascended the stairs and reached the roof. They surveyed the area, looking for any traces of the murderer. They saw nothing but a few pigeons and some rubbish. They were about to abandon their search and return, when Hermione noticed something on the floor. There were streaks of dried blood on the floor. But the odd thing was that they formed a pattern.She followed the trail and realized something. Harry, who looked puzzled, watched her as she walked around cautiously, examining the ground. Then she stopped and her eyes widened. She turned to him with a shocked expression and uttered."It's the same symbol. Again."It was the symbol of the hydra and the skull.Hermione let out a sharp intake of breath and pointed at the wall. Harry followed her gaze and felt a cold shiver run down his spine. There, carved into the stone, was the same symbol that had marked the previous murder scene. Only this time, it was repeated twice. It had to mean something. Something urgent and sinister that they needed to decipher as soon as possible."What is that supposed to mean?" Harry muttered, frowning."I have no idea, but it doesn't bode well. It could be a countdown, or a code, or a clue. It might have something to do with the message we found on Nott's back. It might be another way for the murderer to taunt us." Hermione whispered, her voice trembling."Or lure us into a trap." Harry added, feeling a surge of dread.They exchanged a worried look, unsure of their next move. They agreed to inform the Ministry of their discovery. They hoped that someone there would be able to make sense of it. But deep down, they both sensed that it was somehow connected to Harry.***Harry and Hermione apparated back to the ministry, feeling exhausted and puzzled. They had spent hours at the crime scene, trying to find any clues or evidence that could lead them to the killer. They had examined the body of Theodore Nott. They had interviewed the witnesses, who had seen a hooded figure fleeing from the scene. They had analysed the message that the killer had left on Nott's back.They had no idea what the message or the logo meant, or who was behind them. They had no idea who the killer was, if she was really the proclaimed daughter of Snape, or why she was killing former Death Eaters. They had no idea how she was using such complex and powerful dark magic, or where she had learned it from.They had so many questions, and so few answers. They were frustrated and confused, and they needed a break. They decided to go to the storage room of files, where they hoped to find some information that could help them solve the case. They walked towards the storage room, which was located in the basement of the ministry. They passed by several other aurors and ministry officials, who greeted them with respect and admiration. Harry and Hermione nodded politely, but they did not stop to chat. They were too focused on their mission, and their thoughts.They reached the storage room, which was a large and dusty chamber filled with shelves of old documents, books, and artifacts. They had been there before, many times, when they were searching for information about Voldemort and his horcruxes. They felt a pang of nostalgia, as they remembered their past adventures and dangers.They split up, and began to look for anything related to the victims, the message, or the logo. They used their wands to scan the files, hoping to find something useful. They talked to each other, and shared their findings. They were normal and friendly, as they always were. They were partners and friends, and they trusted each other.They searched for a long time, but they found nothing. They were getting frustrated and tired, and they decided to take a break. They sat down on a nearby couch, and looked at each other. They felt a connection, and they smiled. They felt a warmth, a familiarity, a friendship. But they also felt something else, something more. Something that they had never admitted, or explored. Something that they had buried, or ignored. Something that they had always felt, but never acted on.Hermione decided to start a conversation. She cleared her throat, and said, "Harry, can I ask you something? About last night?"Harry looked at her, and nodded. He said, "Sure, Hermione. What is it?"Hermione took a deep breath, and said, "It's about the picture. The picture of your mother. Do you think it's real? Do you think Eileen really has a connection to her?"Harry sighed, "I don't know, Hermione. I don't know what to think. But I can tell you this: I can feel that the picture is real. I can feel her presence, her love, her smile. I can feel that she is my mother."Hermione nodded, and said, "I understand, Harry. I'm sorry for bringing it up. I know it must be hard for you."Harry shook his head, and said, "No, don't be sorry. I'm glad you did. I'm glad you care. You're the only one who does."Hermione took Harry's hand and gave it a reassuring squeeze. She gazed at him with a worried expression."Harry, are you sure everything's alright at home?" she asked softly.Harry shrugged and avoided her eyes. He felt a surge of guilt and misery. He and Ginny had been fighting more and more lately, over small things and big things alike. He loved Ginny, he truly did, but he felt like they were growing apart. He didn't know how to mend their relationship, or if it was even possible.He muttered, "Yeah. It was nothing, really. Just a silly row."Hermione looked unconvinced."A row? Harry, you can't fool me. I'm your friend. I'm not here to criticise you, I'm here to support you."Harry turned his head, "I know, Hermione. I'm grateful for that. But it's no use. It's between me and Ginny. We'll work it out somehow."Hermione shook her head sadly, "Harry, you can't go on like this. You're miserable, Harry. I can see it in your eyes. You're not yourself anymore. You've changed, Harry. And not in a good way."Harry felt a spark of anger, "What do you mean, I've changed? In what way have I changed?""You've become more aloof, more closed-off, snappier. You hardly ever smile anymore. You don't have fun with the things you used to. You don't make time for your friends or your family. You barely even see your son, Harry. James misses you, Harry. He needs you."Harry was overcome with emotion."How can you say that, Hermione? How can you expect me to be a good father to James? He makes it impossible for me, Hermione. He's always defying me, always flouting the rules, always landing in trouble. He never listens to me, he never respects me, he never cares about me. He's the spitting image of his grandfather, Hermione. He's James Potter all over again.""Harry, that's not fair. James is not James Potter. He's your son, Harry. He's a part of you. And he loves you, Harry. He just doesn't know how to express it. He's a teenager, Harry. He's going through a rough patch. He's trying to discover who he is, where he belongs, what he can do. He's not trying to hurt you, Harry. He's trying to impress you.""Impress me? By disobeying me? By putting himself and others in danger? By ruining the name of our family? By making me look like an idiot?""Harry, you don't have to live up to anyone's standards. You don't have to prove anything to anyone. You don't have to be perfect, Harry. You just have to be yourself. And you have to let James be himself, too. You have to accept him for who he is, not for who you wish he was. You have to love him unconditionally, Harry. Just like he loves you."Harry realized that Hermione was right. He had been too harsh on James, too harsh on himself, too harsh on everyone. He had been pushing everyone away, instead of bringing them closer. He had been dwelling on the negative, instead of the positive. He had been living in the past, instead of the present.He looked at Hermione and said, "Thank you, Hermione. Thank you for being here for me."Hermione smiled and said, "You're welcome, Harry. Anytime. That's what friends are for."She reached out and hugged him. He hugged her back. He felt a surge of relief and gratitude. He felt something deep inside him. He felt something that was only going to complicate things more.He smiled and squeezed her hand. He leaned closer to her and whispered, "Thank you, Hermione. Thank you for everything. You're the best thing that ever happened to me."Hermione drew back slightly. Harry realized what he had just blurted out. They stared at each other in silence, a silence that was unfamiliar and uncomfortable. They had been friends for so long, they had never run out of things to say."I... I need to talk to Shacklebolt," Hermione said, breaking the silence.She darted out of the door, avoiding Harry's gaze. Harry heard the door slam shut and buried his face in his hands, cursing himself for his stupidity.Hermione hurried to the office and knocked on the door. A muffled voice said, "Come in."She opened the door and stepped inside. She saw Shacklebolt sitting at his desk, his face grim and strained. He was surrounded by several aurors, who were holding files, photos, and wands. They all turned to look at her with solemn expressions."Hermione, thank you for coming. I apologize for disturbing you, but we have a crisis. A very grave crisis," Shacklebolt said."What is it, sir?" Hermione asked, her heart pounding.Shacklebolt nodded to one of the aurors, who handed Hermione a folder. Hermione opened it and saw several photos of a bank. A bank that she knew very well. Gringotts.She let out a gasp and looked at Shacklebolt with shock. "Gringotts? What happened to Gringotts?"Shacklebolt sighed and massaged his temples. "It's been robbed, Hermione. Someone broke in last night and stole a huge amount of gold and jewels. And they wreaked havoc and destruction in the process. The goblins are furious. They're threatening to sever all relations with the Ministry and the wizarding world. They're demanding restitution and retribution. And they're not the only ones. The public is in uproar. The media is in chaos. The security is in disarray. It's a disaster, Hermione. An absolute disaster."Hermione shivered as she stared at the photos. They showed a scene of horror and carnage. Buildings were reduced to rubble, bodies were strewn across the ground, and walls were smeared with blood and a sinister message.She felt sick and scared. She turned to Shacklebolt, her eyes wide with shock. "Who could have done this? Who would be capable of such evil?"Shacklebolt sighed and shook his head. "We have no idea, Hermione. We have no leads, no clues, no suspects. The only thing we know for sure is that the perpetrator was a girl. A girl with red hair. She used a form of dark magic that we have never encountered before. A magic that defies our logic and understanding. A magic that surpasses our wildest imagination."Hermione gasped as a memory flashed in her mind. She remembered another instance of dark magic. A magic that had eluded their detection and investigation. A magic that had frustrated and confounded them. A magic that had made them feel powerless and hopeless.She looked at the photos again, and noticed something that made her heart pound. She saw a symbol. A symbol that was familiar to her. A symbol that Eileen had used as her signature. A symbol that revealed her identity and her purpose.A hydra coiled around a skull.She felt a rush of fury and resolve. She realized that the girl was not unknown to her. She was not a random attacker. She was not a solitary agent.She faced Shacklebolt with a firm expression. "Sir, I think I know who this girl is. I think I know how she pulled this off. I think I know what her motive is. And I think I know how to stop her."Shacklebolt raised his eyebrows and looked at her with interest. "You do? How?"Hermione snatched one of the photos and tucked it in her pocket. She headed for the door and said, "I'll tell you later, sir. Right now, I have to talk to Harry. He has to see this. He has to know this. He has to be prepared for this."She burst out of the office, leaving Shacklebolt and his aurors gaping in her wake. She ran as fast as she could to the storage room, where Harry was supposed to be. She prayed he was still there. She prayed he was alright. She prayed he was ready.She reached the room and flung open the door. There was Harry, sitting at the table, poring over some files. He looked up and saw her. He saw the panic on her face. He saw the fear in her eyes. He saw the haste in her steps."Hermione, what is it? What's happened?" Harry asked, his voice tense.Hermione slammed the door shut and locked it. She strode to the table and threw the photo down on it. She jabbed her finger at the girl's face and said, "Harry, this is the thief who broke into Gringotts.""Gringotts has been broken into?", Harry gasped."Yes, last night. After Nott was killed.""What's the connection between Nott's murder and Gringotts?""Harry, this girl used the same kind of dark magic. The magic that left no traces, no clues, no evidence. Do you remember what that means?"Hermione fixed Harry with a piercing look. Harry felt a chill run down his spine. He understood what she was implying.Harry stared at the photo. He studied the girl's face. He noticed her eyes. He noticed her smirk. Harry felt a surge of strangeness and disbelief. He clenched his fists and gritted his teeth. He couldn't believe it. He wouldn't believe it. It couldn't be true.He noticed a face that haunted his dreams. A face that mirrored their foe. A face that belonged to the offspring of Severus Snape.The face of Eileen Snape.