Hogwarts was a very old and very magical school, where students learned everything from turning teacups into tortoises to flying on broomsticks high above the grounds. It was also a place full of secrets and stories, where the ancient halls and towers echoed with the deeds of the four founders, the four houses, and the countless witches and wizards who had studied there. But for James Potter, the son of the most famous wizard who ever lived, Hogwarts was a place of burden and bitterness, where he felt he could never live up to his father's name.James was in Gryffindor, the house of the brave and the bold, and he had inherited his father's jet-black hair, bright green eyes, and natural flair for magic. He was also a troublemaker, who took pleasure in tormenting those he considered weaker or less worthy than himself, especially the Slytherins. He had a gang of friends who did whatever he said and laughed at his every word, but none of them really knew him.James loathed it when people mentioned his father, Harry Potter, the Boy Who Lived, the Chosen One, the Defeater of Voldemort. He loathed it when teachers complimented his father, when classmates questioned him about his father, when strangers gawked at him because of his father. He loathed being in his father's shadow, and he longed to show himself as someone different.On a fine and clear morning, James was making his way to his first lesson of the day, Defense Against the Dark Arts, with his friends. They were crossing the courtyard, where a bunch of younger students were perched on a bench, gossiping and giggling. James caught sight of a familiar face among them, a plump, bumbling boy with untidy brown hair and spectacles. His name was Todris Finch, a second-year Hufflepuff, and he was one of James's favourite victims."Hey, look at that," James said loudly, elbowing his friends. "It's Toddy the Toad. What do you reckon he's doing here? Hoping to snare some flies with his tongue?"His friends chortled, and the other students in the courtyard looked around. Todris lifted his head and saw James bearing down on him with a sneer. He felt a jolt of fear and rage, but he tried to appear cool and unconcerned. He had learned from experience that resisting or fleeing only made things worse. He hoped that James would lose interest and leave him be, but he knew that was unlikely."Good morning, Potter," Todris said in a quiet voice, looking away."Good morning, Toad," James drawled, halting in front of him. "How's life in the pond? Feeling a bit slippery?""Actually, Potter, I'm feeling great. How about you? Feeling thick?"Todris couldn't believe he had just said that. He had never stood up to James before.James's grin vanished, replaced by a snarl. He hated it when his prey fought back. He seized Todris by the front of his robes and hoisted him off the bench, sending his books and bag flying."What was that, you filthy maggot?" James spat, his face close to Todris's. "Do you need a lesson in respect?"Todris felt James's hot breath on his face. He knew he had gone too far, but he refused to grovel or say sorry. He met James's eyes and kept silent.James was about to smash his fist into Todris's face, when a loud and stern voice rang out behind him."Potter! Release him, this instant!"James whipped his head around and saw Professor McGonagall, the headmistress of Hogwarts, standing at the entrance of the courtyard, her eyes flashing with anger. She was an elderly woman, with gray hair and glasses, but she was also a formidable and revered witch, who had fought in the Second Wizarding War alongside Harry Potter. She was not someone to mess with.James felt a surge of fear and hastily let go of Todris, who dropped to the ground, wheezing for breath. James tried to look nonchalant and blameless, but he knew he was in deep trouble."Good morning, Professor," James said, giving her a strained smile. "We were only having a laugh, weren't we, Toad?"Todris said nothing, but shot James a venomous look, massaging his throat."A laugh?" Professor McGonagall repeated, her voice icy and stern. "Is that what you call tormenting and hexing another student, Potter? Is that how you behave towards your classmates? Is that what your father taught you?"James felt a hot flush of anger and resentment at the mention of his father. He loathed it when people brought up his father, especially when they used him as a yardstick to judge him by. He wanted to yell and swear, but he knew better than to do that in front of Professor McGonagall. He balled his hands into fists and bit his lip, trying to rein in his emotions."No, Professor," James said, adopting a polite tone. "My father taught me to be brave and loyal and kind, just like you."Professor McGonagall narrowed her eyes, detecting the sarcasm in James's voice. She had taught Harry Potter, she had watched him grow from a shy and lonely boy to a courageous and noble man. She had seen him face perils and trials that would have crushed most people. She had seen him give up his life for the greater good, and then come back to life to vanquish the Dark Lord. She had also seen him become a father, a husband, a friend. She had seen him be modest and generous and forgiving, even to those who had harmed him. She had seen him be the best of Gryffindors, the best of wizards and the best of men.She sighed, feeling a pang of sadness and anger. She wished she could help James, she wished she could make him realise the folly of his ways, make him change. But she knew it was not her role or duty. She was his headmistress, not his mother. She could only punish him, not guide him.She did what she always did, what she had done countless times before. She fixed James with a steely glare and said, "Potter, you have earned yourself a detention. Tonight, at eight o'clock, in my office. And you will apologize to Mr. Finch, this instant."James felt a wave of defiance and indignation wash over him. He had no intention of apologizing; he saw no reason to. He felt Todris had got what he deserved, he felt he was a snivelling and worthless worm. He felt Professor McGonagall was being partial and prejudiced, he felt she was siding with Todris against him. He felt she was trying to shame him, he felt she was trying to tarnish his reputation. He felt she was trying to mould him into his father, but she was only succeeding in making him loathe his father.He opened his mouth to object, to quarrel, to rebel. But before he could utter a word, he heard a loud and familiar bell ring, announcing the beginning of the first class. He realised he had no time to spare, he realised he had no option but to comply. He shut his mouth and nodded grudgingly, swallowing his pride and his fury."Fine," James said, looking at Todris with scorn. "I'm sorry, Toad. I'm sorry I hurt your precious feelings. I'm sorry I made you bawl. I'm sorry I'm superior to you."Todris felt a wave of revulsion and contempt rise in him. He rejected James's apology, he knew it was insincere.He opened his mouth to retort, to mock, to defy. But before he could speak a syllable, he heard Professor McGonagall's voice, slicing through the air like a blade."That will do, Potter. Go to your class, now. And if I ever catch you bullying anyone again, you will face more serious consequences. Is that clear?"James felt a wave of fear and resentment surge in him. He understood, but he disagreed. He thought Professor McGonagall was being severe and irrational, he thought she was being cruel and unfair.He nodded, but he didn't mean it. He said, "Yes, Professor," but he didn't respect her. He turned and walked away, but he didn't forgive. He left, but he didn't let go.He left, but he swore to get even.***Meanwhile, Harry and his friends, with a picture of the girl, who had to be Eileen Snape, now started investigating the robbery at Gringott's. They had arrived at the bank early in the morning, hoping to find some clues or leads. They had shown the picture to the goblins, asking them if they recognized the girl or knew anything about her.The goblins glared at Harry and his friends with a mixture of fear and fury. They had witnessed a terrible breach of security at Gringotts, the wizarding bank that they guarded with their lives. A young girl, had somehow managed to enter the most heavily protected vault in the bank, the one that stored the Malfoy family's treasures. She had unleashed a dark spell that had shattered the enchantments and the metal bars, leaving a trail of dead and wounded goblins behind her. She had grabbed something from the vault, but the goblins could not tell what it was. And then she had vanished, as if by magic, before they could apprehend her or stop her."What did she take?" Harry demanded, his voice tense."We don't know," one of the goblins snarled. "It was none of your business anyway. This is a matter for the goblins and the Ministry of Magic. You have no right to interfere.""The Ministry of Magic?" Ron scoffed. "We are here with the Ministry of Magic. We are aurors. So can you please be a little polite and cooperate.""Silence, you filthy half-blood!" another goblin spat. "You know nothing of our affairs. You are not welcome here. Leave at once, or we will make you leave.""Easy, Ron," Hermione whispered, trying to calm him down. She knew that goblins were proud and sensitive creatures, who did not take kindly to insults or threats. She decided to try a different approach. "Please, sir," she said, addressing the goblin who seemed to be the leader."We mean no harm. We are here to help. We are friends of Harry Potter, the one who defeated Voldemort. We have fought against the dark forces before. We can help you find the girl and recover the artifact. Maybe we can work together."The goblin looked at her with a hint of curiosity."The Ministry and the law enforcers, useless as always, incompetent and negligent."He muttered something under his breath, then continued.With a blast of dark magic that shattered the vault's defenses and slew many goblins on the way, she had seized something from the Malfoys' hoard, though none could tell what it was. She had fled before anyone could apprehend or stop her. That was all they knew for certain.Harry and his friends felt a jolt of shock and bewilderment. They wondered what the girl had taken from the Malfoys, and for what purpose. They wondered where she had learned such dark arts, and from whom. They wondered about her identity, and her motive.They pressed the goblins for more details, but they got nothing out of them. The goblins were wary and resentful of them, and some were downright hostile. They said they had no faith in the Ministry or the aurors, and that they would deal with the matter in their own way.Harry and his friends saw that they were getting nowhere. They decided to leave the bank and seek other clues. They expressed their gratitude to the goblins for their help, and made their way to the exit.As they were going out, they came across an old goblin who was sitting on a stool by the door. He had a long white beard and a craggy face. He fixed them with a keen stare, and spoke in a hoarse voice."Hold on," he said. "I have something to say to you."Harry and his friends halted and faced him. They wondered what he had to tell them.The old goblin leaned in and whispered. He looked at them with a grave expression, and said, "I was there when she arrived. I saw her face. I sensed her power. I sensed the dread, the core of darkness, akin to him.""Akin to whom?" Harry asked, feeling a shiver down his spine.The old goblin gazed at him with terror in his eyes, and said, "The Fallen One. He who must not be named."Harry and his friends gasped. They felt a surge of disbelief and horror. They couldn't comprehend what they were hearing.The old goblin nodded, and went on, "Yes, I was there when he came to power. I was there when he was defeated. I was there when he came back. I know his face. I know his mark. I know his magic. And I tell you, this girl, she bears it. She bears his mark. She bears his magic. She bears his soul."A chill ran down their spines as they stared at the girl's picture. Her skin was as white as snow, her eyes as black as coal, and her hair as red as blood. On her neck, a tattoo of a hydra and a skull. In her hand, a wand that radiated his power. They felt a surge of horror and bewilderment."How can this be?" Hermione whispered, her voice trembling. "How can she bear his mark, his magic, his soul? He's gone. He's dead. He can never return."The old goblin snorted, and said, "You are fools. He is not gone. He is not dead. He cannot be slain. He cannot be vanquished. He is eternal. He is immortal. He is the Dark Lord. And he is rising again."Harry and his friends refused to believe the old goblin's words. But in their hearts, a shadow of doubt lingered. The doubt of what if he returns. They recalled the prophecy, the horcruxes, the final duel. They recalled how they had faced and vanquished Voldemort, how they had shattered his body and his soul. They recalled how they had moved on and left him behind.Harry and his friends expressed their gratitude to the old goblin for his assistance and departed from the interrogation room. They made their way through the passages of Gringott's, passing by the ruined vaults. The destruction was colossal, and Harry felt a twinge of remorse for having caused it in his former break-in."Well, what now?" Ron asked, breaking the silence."We have to find out who this girl is," Hermione said, clutching the picture they had acquired from the magic cam. "She's the clue to this whole enigma.""But how?""Perhaps we could seek the Order's help," Ron suggested. "They may have some allies or resources that we lack.""Or perhaps we could consult Dumbledore," Harry said, remembering the portrait of his old headmaster that adorned his office at the Ministry. "He always had a knack for knowing things that others missed.""Either way, we have to act swiftly," Hermione said. "This girl is perilous, and she's evidently after something. We can't let her succeed."They arrived at the exit of Gringott's and stepped out into the crowded street of Diagon Alley. They agreed to part ways and rendezvous later at the Leaky Cauldron. Harry apparated to the Ministry, while Ron and Hermione headed to their home.***Harry entered his office and closed the door behind him. He placed the picture of the girl on his desk and stared at it intently. She had long red hair, pale skin, and dark eyes. She looked familiar, but he couldn't place her. She wore a smirk on her face, as if she was mocking him. Harry felt a surge of anger and frustration.Who was she? What did she want? And why did she remind him of someone he hated?Meanwhile, at their home, Ron and Hermione were getting ready for bed. They decided to go to bed early, as they had another busy day ahead. Hermione went to the bathroom to brush her teeth, while Ron went to the bedroom to prepare a surprise for her. He had bought her three books as a gift for their anniversary, knowing how much she loved to read. He had also written a heartfelt note on each book, expressing his love and admiration for her.He placed the books on the living room table, where she would see them. He then went to the bedroom and lit some candles, creating a romantic atmosphere. He put on some soft music and waited for her.Hermione came out of the bathroom and saw the books on the table. She was curious and excited. She walked over to them and picked one up. It was a book on ancient runes, one of her favourite subjects. She opened it and saw a note written on the first page. It read:"To my brilliant wife, Happy anniversary. I love you more than words can say. You are the smartest and most talented witch I know. You always amaze me with your knowledge and wisdom. You make me a better person every day. Ron."Hermione felt a warm glow in her chest. She smiled and put the book down. She picked up another one. It was a book on magical creatures, another one of her interests. She opened it and saw another note. It read:"To my beautiful wife, Happy anniversary. I love you more than anything in the world. You are the most gorgeous and charming witch I know. You always dazzle me with your smile and grace. You make me the happiest person in the world. Ron."Hermione felt tears in her eyes. She smiled and put the book down. She picked up the last one. It was a book on wizarding history, another one of her passions. She opened it and saw the final note. It read:"To my amazing wife, Happy anniversary. I love you more than life itself. You are the most courageous and loyal witch I know. You always inspire me with your bravery and dedication. You make me the luckiest person in the world. Ron."Hermione sobbed and put the book down. She ran to the bedroom and threw herself into Ron's arms. He hugged her and said, "Hey, what's wrong?"Hermione looked up at him and said, "Nothing. Nothing at all. I just love you so much, Ron. Thank you for everything."Ron kissed her and said, "I love you too, Hermione. You're the best thing that ever happened to me."They kissed again and cuddled under the covers. They whispered sweet nothings to each other and fell asleep in each other's arms.***The cave was shrouded in darkness and silence, broken only by the occasional splash of water dripping from the ceiling. The air was chilly and moist, and the walls were engraved with ancient runes and symbols. The cave was littered with rubble and wreckage, the remains of what had once been a splendid chamber. The pillars that had held up the ceiling lay in ruins and fragments. The floor was jagged and slick, coated with dust and grime. The walls bore the marks of blood and fire, the evidence of a fierce battle.The only glimmer of light came from a statue in the corner. It was a statue of a man with a long beard and a pointed hat, clutching a snake in his hand. It was a statue of Salazar Slytherin, the founder of the house of cunning and ambition.But the statue was damaged. It was cracked and chipped, as if someone had attempted to smash it. The snake in his hand was snapped in two, and its eyes were gouged out.The cave was the Chamber of Secrets, the secret domain of the heir of Slytherin. But it was not the chamber that Harry and his friends had explored in their second year at Hogwarts. It was the chamber that had been assaulted and demolished by the Order of the Phoenix, during the final war against Voldemort.A figure sat by the statue, his face concealed in the shadows. He wore a cloak that merged with the darkness, and his hands lay on his knee. He was waiting, waiting for something or someone."After so many years, here you are, my precious heir."He looked up and saw a boy approaching him. A boy who wore a black cloak and wielded a wand in his hand. A boy who had cold and cruel eyes.It was the Dark Lord. It was Voldemort. But young.It was the Voldemort who had been a student at Hogwarts, a student who had been sorted into Slytherin, a student who had opened the Chamber of Secrets, a student who had become the most powerful dark wizard of all time.