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Harry Potter: Forging the Flame Ch. 20
🕑 Added 2025-03-14 21:32:56 +0000 UTCChapter 20.
We managed to hit 100k words. Thank you for your support.
“You are probably wondering why I called you over here, Harry,” said Professor Dumbledore.
Harry, sitting in the chair across from his desk, turned his eyes from Fawkes to the Headmaster. He hadn’t seen the phoenix in a while, and for the first few minutes, he’d been quietly watching as the bird preened its feathers.
Fawkes trilled a soft, melancholy note, clearly displeased that Harry’s attention had shifted.
“Yes, Headmaster,” Harry said, straightening. “Professor McGonagall said it was something about Gringotts?”
Dumbledore nodded, tapping a folded parchment on his desk. “Indeed. I received this rather official correspondence this morning. An announcement from the goblins that they will be arriving today to verify a claim made by one… Harry James Potter.”
“That is correct,” Harry said.
Dumbledore hummed, scanning the letter again. “The goblins were, as always, quite meticulous in their wording,” he mused. “And yet, they did not see fit to include any precise details about the nature of this claim. Would you be so kind as to elaborate?”
“It’s for a project,” Harry started. “The Potions project.”
Dumbledore’s expression didn’t change, but his eyes held a hint of understanding. “Ah, yes,” he said lightly. “I recall the arrangement.”
“My partner is Daphne Greengrass,” Harry continued “And we… well, we decided we didn’t just want to do something challenging. We wanted to do something new.”
Dumbledore nodded for him to continue.
“We’ve been looking into advanced healing potions,” Harry explained. “Not just stuff that mends cuts or broken bones, everyone’s already got a recipe for that. We want to push further. See if we can do something real, like regrowing nerves, repairing damaged magic. Maybe even reversing stuff that’s supposed to be permanent.”
Dumbledore steepled his fingers, considering him. “An ambitious endeavor.”
Harry shrugged. “Yes. Problem is, we need a catalyst, something powerful. And that’s when I thought of basilisk venom.”
Dumbledore’s eyebrows rose ever so slightly, but he didn’t interrupt.
Harry took that as permission to explain. “It’s one of the most powerful substances in the world. It destroys everything. And we thought… what if we could reverse that? If we figured out why it breaks things down so completely, maybe we could use that process to rebuild instead. Or at least, use it to fuel something else.”
Dumbledore was quiet for a moment, his blue eyes thoughtful.
Harry could tell he was considering something, though he had no idea what.
“It is a unique perspective,” Dumbledore said finally. “And quite an inspired one.”
Harry let out a breath, relieved he didn’t have to argue about it. “Yeah, well, finding basilisk venom isn’t exactly easy. But then I thought… we have a basilisk. A thousand-year-old one, just sitting under the castle. I mean, nobody’s done anything with it in two years. It’s just there. And if I was the one who killed it, then technically… doesn’t that mean it belongs to me?”
Dumbledore gave the smallest nod, as if that made perfect sense.
“Sirius was the one who actually suggested filing a claim. Said if wizards can inherit things like cursed jewelry and haunted castles, then a basilisk I personally took down should count too.”
Dumbledore tapped a single finger against the parchment. “You have given considerable thought to this claim, but tell me, Harry do you fully understand what it means?”
Harry frowned slightly. “What do you mean?”
“The basilisk is no ordinary asset,” Dumbledore said. “Even beyond its venom, every part of such a creature holds value. The bones, the hide, the fangs, even the remnants of its magic. If your claim is recognized, you will not merely be the owner of a rare potion ingredient. You will be in possession of something that many would covet.”
Harry hadn’t really considered that. He’d been so focused on the venom, on the potion, that he hadn’t thought about the rest of it.
Dumbledore studied him carefully, but there was no judgment. “It is a fine thing, to take ownership of one’s victories,” he said. “But ownership, like magic, has weight. And some burdens are not always visible at first glance.”
Before Harry could think of a response, there was a knock at the door.
Dumbledore waved his fingers, and the door swung open to reveal Professor McGonagall, looking as crisp and composed as ever. Her eyes moved to Harry first, then to Dumbledore.
“They’re here,” she announced.
Dumbledore nodded. “Ah. Right on schedule.”
Harry straightened in his seat as Dumbledore turned back to him, a small smile playing at the corner of his lips. “Well then, Harry,” he said, “shall we go see what truth lies beneath the castle?”
Harry followed Dumbledore through the winding halls of Hogwarts, McGonagall walking just a step ahead of them. As they descended toward the entrance hall, Harry spotted the figures waiting just beyond the great doors. Three goblins, clad in dark, expertly tailored robes, standing with the rigid patience of those who were used to being kept waiting but did not appreciate it.
McGonagall strode ahead and pushed open the doors, letting the morning light spill across the stone floor. The goblins stepped forward in unison.
“Headmaster,” the tallest one greeted, inclining his head. “I am Grimsnarl. This is Riphook and Drekfang. We represent Gringotts’ Department of Magical Asset Verification.”
Dumbledore gave a slight bow of his head. “A pleasure to have you at Hogwarts. I trust your journey was uneventful?”
“As uneventful as dealings with wizardkind allow,” Grimsnarl said smoothly. He looked at Harry, assessing. “And you must be Mr. Potter.”
“That’s me,”
The goblin studied him for a moment longer before nodding. “Then let us proceed. The sooner we confirm your claim, the sooner we can discuss extraction and valuation.”
McGonagall pursed her lips. “Headmaster, do you require my presence?”
Dumbledore gave her a reassuring glance. “That won’t be necessary, Minerva. I believe Harry and I can manage.”
McGonagall hesitated, before nodding stiffly. “Very well.”
The moment she was gone, Grimsnarl adjusted the cuffs of his robe. “We will require access to the creature’s remains.”
“You’re in luck,” Harry said. “I know just the way.”
He turned and started walking, feeling the goblins fall in step behind him.
As they moved deeper into the castle, past the familiar tapestries and stone corridors, Drekfang spoke. “You claim to have killed the basilisk yourself?”
Harry nodded. “Yeah. In second year.”
Riphook let out a considering hum. “Unusual for a wizard so young.”
“I had help,” Harry admitted. “A phoenix, a sword, and a hat.”
Drekfang gave a sharp-toothed grin. “The best victories are the ones not fought alone.”
Harry wasn’t sure if that was meant as genuine wisdom or just an observation, but he nodded anyway.
Grimsnarl cut in, voice as smooth as ever. “And you are aware that, should this claim be verified, any and all assets recovered from the carcass fall under your ownership?”
“That’s the idea,” Harry said.
Harry stopped in front of the entrance to the abandoned girls’ lavatory.
Grimsnarl gave him a flat look. “A bathroom.”
Harry laughed. “Trust me. This is the right place.”
And with that, he pushed open the door.
The goblins followed behind him. Grimsnarl glanced around, unimpressed. “Charming,” he muttered.
Riphook snorted. “A thousand-year-old secret chamber, hidden away… in a lavatory.”
Drekfang tilted his head, eyeing the stained sinks with something between amusement and curiosity. “Fitting, in a way. No one would ever think to look for it here.”
Harry ignored them, already moving toward the second sink from the left. “It’s here,” he said, tapping his fingers against the porcelain. “The entrance.”
Grimsnarl stepped closer, eyes narrowing as he examined the seemingly ordinary sink. “How does one gain entry?”
Harry hesitated for half a second. Parseltongue wasn’t exactly something he went around showing off. But it wasn’t like he had a choice.
He leaned in slightly, lowering his voice. “Open.”
The moment the word left his mouth, the sink shuddered. Pipes groaned, and then the entire fixture twisted, sinking into the floor as a massive, gaping pipe opened where it had been.
The goblins all took a step back, watching as dust and grime settled.
Grimsnarl’s eyebrows lifted ever so slightly. “Parseltongue,” he observed.
Harry just shrugged. “Yeah.”
Riphook gave an approving hum. “Not something you see every day.”
Drekfang, however, was already moving forward, peering down into the darkness. “How far down does it go?”
“Pretty far,” Harry admitted. “There’s a drop, but you’ll land alright. Might want to brace yourselves, though.”
Grimsnarl turned to Dumbledore. “I assume you have another method of entry, Headmaster?”
Dumbledore smiled faintly. “Indeed.”
Without hesitation, he gracefully stepped onto the edge of the pipe. Instead of dropping, he simply glided downward, vanishing into the darkness below like it was the most natural thing in the world.
Harry rolled his eyes. “Yeah, that’s one way to do it.”
Riphook let out a dry chuckle before stepping forward. “Well, then. No sense wasting time.”
And with that, he hopped in.
Drekfang followed, landing with a thud below.
Grimsnarl exhaled through his nose before giving Harry a final look. “Lead the way, then.”
Harry took a breath, then jumped.
Cold air rushed past him as he slid down the long, twisting pipe. The ride was as unpleasant as he remembered—grime, damp air, the faint smell of rot. And then, just like before, he was spit out onto the hard stone floor of the Chamber of Secrets.
Dumbledore stood a few feet ahead, hands resting lightly on his robes, waiting.
And stretched across the vast stone floor, coiled in death just as it had been two years ago, lay the basilisk.
Even now, it was an impossible sight.
The goblins didn’t speak right away. They just stared.
Grimsnarl stepped forward first, approaching the massive carcass with slow steps. His widened eyes traced over the enormous fangs, the ancient scales that had lost none of their eerie gleam, the sheer size of the thing.
Drekfang let out a quiet whistle. “By the horde…”
Riphook crouched near the head, fingers ghosting just above the surface of one massive fang. “Intact,” he murmured. “Even after all this time.”
Harry shoved his hands into his pockets. “Told you it was real.”
Grimsnarl turned his head slightly. “That, you did.”
Dumbledore finally moved closer, his voice light. “I trust this is sufficient verification?”
Grimsnarl huffed. “More than sufficient.” He turned back to the others. “Begin the assessment.”
Drekfang and Riphook immediately got to work, moving with practiced efficiency. One conjured a series of runes along the basilisk’s hide, watching as they pulsed and settled. The other pulled a thick scroll from his robes, jotting something down with swift, precise strokes.
Harry stepped back, watching them.
Dumbledore, meanwhile, turned to him with a small smile. “It is not often one sees such a sight twice in a lifetime.”
Harry huffed. “I’d have been fine with just once.”
Dumbledore chuckled, eyes twinkling. “Understandable.”
They fell into silence for a moment, just watching as the goblins continued their work.
Then, after a pause, Dumbledore said, “And how is Sirius?”
Harry blinked at the sudden shift in conversation. He glanced at Dumbledore, but the old man’s expression was as unreadable as ever.
Harry hesitated, kicking at a loose bit of stone near his foot.
“Sirius is… better,” Harry said eventually. “He’s got those visitation sessions with a Mind Healer. So, I guess he’s working hard to get back to shape. Mentally and physically.”
Dumbledore gave a slow, thoughtful nod. “That is good to hear.”
Harry thought for a moment before speaking again. “Actually, Professor, there was something else I wanted to ask you.”
Dumbledore tilted his head slightly, the corners of his mouth lifting with interest. “Oh?”
“It’s about magic. Or… magical cores,” Harry said. “In Charms the other day, Flitwick was showing us some dueling techniques, and while he was casting, I felt something weird.”
“Weird in what way?”
Harry exhaled, trying to put the feeling into words. “It was like I could feel the magic—not just the spells, but the actual power behind them. It was pressing in on me, and for a second, it was like something inside me was… responding to it. Like my magic was waking up.”
Dumbledore looked genuinely surprised. He regarded Harry for a moment, as if reevaluating something. Then, slowly, he smiled.
“My dear boy,” he said, “that is quite extraordinary.”
Harry blinked. “It is?”
Dumbledore gave a small nod. “You see, Harry, what you experienced is not something most wizards ever notice, not consciously at least. Magic flows through all of us, but for the vast majority, it remains an unconscious force. We cast spells, we perform magic, but we do so instinctively, without truly feeling the power behind it.”
Harry frowned slightly. “So what does that mean for me?”
Dumbledore’s blue eyes gleamed with something that might have been pride. “It means, my boy, that you are beginning to interact with your magic at a level very few ever reach. Your magical core is starting to expand. To awaken. And that is an exceedingly rare thing.”
Harry shifted in his seat. “Professor Flitwick said something similar. He told me my magic was ‘paying attention to me’ and that I should start paying attention back.”
Dumbledore chuckled softly. “Wise words, as expected from Filius. He is quite right. Your magic is reaching out, seeking connection. And if I may offer my own perspective, you should listen.”
Harry tilted his head. “So… how does this work, exactly?”
Dumbledore leaned back slightly, a thoughtful expression crossing his face. “When a wizard’s magical core begins to expand, they start to feel their magic more keenly. Spells become easier, reactions sharper. You will find that, in time, you will not just cast magic. You will shape it. Guide it. And, eventually, command it in ways that defy ordinary spellwork.”
Harry absorbed that for a moment. “And this happened to you?”
Dumbledore’s eyes twinkled. “Yes. Though not nearly as early as you, I must admit. I was in my fifth year when I first began to feel my magic in the way you describe. For you to sense it in your fourth year.. Well, that is quite remarkable.”
Harry sat up a little straighter at that. “So… is this something I should be worried about?”
Dumbledore shook his head. “Not at all. Quite the opposite. It is an opportunity, one that very few have. The more you acknowledge your magic, the stronger your bond with it will become. In time, you may even find that spells no longer require as much effort, that your wand becomes more of a guide rather than a necessity.”
“That sounds… big.”
Dumbledore’s smile softened. “It is, but it is also natural. As your core gains traction, as you put it, you will find it easier to sense and control it. And while this path is rare, it is not unknown. It means, Harry, that you are truly a strong wizard.”
Harry swallowed, unsure how to feel about that. “So… what should I do?”
Dumbledore studied him for a moment, then said, “For now? Simply be aware of it. Let it grow. When you feel your magic, do not push it away. Acknowledge it, explore it. In time, if you wish, I or perhaps Professor Flitwick can guide you further.”
A low cough interrupted them.
Harry turned to see Grimsnarl standing a few steps away, arms crossed, waiting patiently. Behind him, Riphook and Drekfang were finishing up their runework, the thick parchment in Riphook’s hands now covered in neat, spidery writing.
“We have concluded our assessment,” Grimsnarl announced. “The basilisk remains are in excellent condition, given their age. The preservation effects within this chamber have prevented significant decay, making extraction viable.”
Harry nodded. “So… what happens now?”
“The remains will be transported to Gringotts,” Grimsnarl said, matter-of-fact. “Our specialists will handle the extraction process, separating the valuable materials such as venom, hide, bones, and any residual magical components. The full process will take approximately one month.”
Harry glanced toward the basilisk’s massive form. It was strange, the idea of something that had been lying here for centuries suddenly being taken apart, studied, and processed. But he supposed that was the whole point.
Grimsnarl continued, “Once extraction is complete, we will provide you with a full report detailing all recoverable materials, their quality, and estimated market value. Additionally, we will deduct standard processing fees before transferring ownership of the assets to you.”
Harry sighed. “Right. Of course.”
Dumbledore’s lips twitched in amusement, but he said nothing.
“Now,” Grimsnarl said, “if there are no objections, we will begin the transfer process immediately.”
Harry exchanged a glance with Dumbledore, who gave him a small nod. “Yeah,” Harry said. “Go ahead.”
Grimsnarl turned back to his companions. “Activate the containment.”
Riphook and Drekfang moved in sync. With a snap of their fingers, glowing golden chains materialized in the air, wrapping around the basilisk’s body in thick, interwoven strands of magic. As the runes along the carcass pulsed in response, the chains tightened, binding the massive serpent in shimmering containment wards.
With a snap of his wrist, Drekfang conjured a floating Gringotts vault key gleaming with goblin magic. He held it aloft, muttering something in Gobbledegook. The air around the basilisk shimmered, and then, with a sudden lurch, the entire carcass vanished, sucked into the key in a silent flash of magic.
Drekfang caught the floating key and tucked it inside his robes. “The remains are secured. Transport to Gringotts is complete.”
Grimsnarl inclined his head toward Harry. “We will be in touch regarding your assets, Mr. Potter. Expect correspondence within the month.”
“Alright,” Harry said, still wrapping his head around the fact that the basilisk was officially his now.
With business concluded, Grimsnarl turned back to Dumbledore. “Headmaster, as always, it has been an enlightening experience conducting business at Hogwarts.”
Dumbledore smiled pleasantly. “And a pleasure to witness the efficiency of Gringotts in action.”
Grimsnarl’s expression remained unreadable, but he gave the smallest of nods before motioning to his fellow goblins. “Let us return.”
With one final glance around the chamber, the goblins made their way back toward the tunnel entrance.
Harry let out a breath, rubbing the back of his neck. “Well,” he muttered, “that was… something.”
Dumbledore chuckled. “Indeed, my boy.” He gave Harry a knowing look. “I believe you have just taken your first step into a much larger world.”
Harry sat at the Gryffindor table, stabbing at his roast potatoes while Hermione flipped through The Standard Book of Spells, Grade 4.
When he’d gotten back to the common room, he’d filled Ron and Hermione in. Ron had immediately gone on about how insane it was that Harry technically owned one of the rarest potion ingredients in the world, while Hermione had fretted over how much paperwork this was going to involve. It had been a whole thing.
Now, though, Harry just wanted a quiet dinner. Except, of course, fate had other plans.
A rustle of wings overhead signaled the arrival of the evening post, and moments later, the Daily Prophet landed directly in front of him.
The headline might as well have screamed at him:
“HARRY POTTER LAYS CLAIM TO HOGWARTS’ BASILISK—A TEENAGE WIZARD WITH A DARK CREATURE’S HOARD!”
Harry froze, fork halfway to his mouth.
Hermione, who had glanced up at his reaction, immediately leaned in. One look at the front page and she groaned. “Oh, honestly! How did they even find out about this?”
Harry’s stomach twisted as he skimmed the article. It was the usual Prophet nonsense. Speculation, half-truths, and a quote from an anonymous Ministry official about whether “such an acquisition should be regulated.”
Familiar voice drawled behind him.
“Well, well, Potter,” Malfoy sneered. “Decided to start hoarding dangerous creatures now? What’s next? A nice collection of acromantulas?”
Harry turned, eyes narrowing. Malfoy was smirking, far too pleased with himself.
And just like that, it clicked.
“Your father,” Harry said flatly. “He leaked this.”
Malfoy’s smirk widened. “The Ministry does keep track of certain… magical acquisitions.” He shrugged, all mock innocence. “Can’t say I’m surprised people found it interesting.”
Harry clenched his jaw. Great. Just great. If Lucius Malfoy had gotten his hands on the information, half the Ministry probably knew about it by now.
Malfoy gave him one last smirk before sauntering off toward the Slytherin table.
Is The Boy Who Lived now The Boy Who Hoards Dark Creatures?
In a shocking turn of events, Harry James Potter, the nation’s favorite orphan-turned-hero, has officially laid claim to one of the most infamous magical creatures to ever reside within Hogwarts: the basilisk of Salazar Slytherin himself.
That’s right, dear readers. According to inside sources from the Department of Magical Creature Affairs, Potter has filed an official claim over the centuries-old serpent—the very beast responsible for the attacks on students during the tragic events of 1992. Reports indicate that representatives from Gringotts Wizarding Bank were seen at Hogwarts just this morning, verifying Potter’s ownership of the corpse.
The question on everyone’s minds: Why?
“Basilisk venom is an immensely powerful substance,” says Augustus Prowling, Senior Undersecretary for Potion Regulations at the Ministry of Magic. “The idea of a school-aged wizard controlling such a volatile resource is deeply concerning.”
Sources within the Ministry claim that Potter intends to use the remains for potion experimentation—an alarming prospect, given the deadly nature of basilisk components. Is the young wizard merely indulging in an ambitious academic pursuit? Or is there something darker afoot?
“It’s all very concerning,” one Ministry official, who wished to remain anonymous, told the Prophet. “We all respect Harry Potter for his past heroics, but claiming ownership of a basilisk? It raises questions. What else does he think he’s entitled to?”
And let us not forget the deeply troubling history of this particular beast. The basilisk in question was bred and hidden beneath the castle by none other than Salazar Slytherin himself—one of the founding fathers of Hogwarts, and a known advocate for blood purity supremacy. This very creature was unleashed upon the school during Potter’s second year, leading to multiple attacks and the near death of several students.
Now, with Potter seizing control of what remains of the monster, we must ask ourselves—does he truly understand the power he wields?
The Prophet reached out to Potter for comment, but—perhaps unsurprisingly—the young wizard was unavailable.
Meanwhile, some are questioning whether Potter’s actions indicate a growing arrogance. After all, this is not the first time he has made unusual magical claims. Readers will recall that just last year, Potter was seen openly defying the Ministry’s stance on Dementors, surviving an attack that should have been fatal. Now, he is laying claim to dark creatures for his personal use.
Is this simply reckless teenage ambition? Or are we witnessing something more concerning?
One thing is certain—this is a story that won’t be slithering away anytime soon.
More updates to come as the situation develops.
By Rita Skeeter
Harry tossed the Prophet aside with a scoff. “Cow…” he muttered under his breath.
“Harry!” Hermione hissed. “You can’t just..”
“Oh, come off it, Hermione,” Ron cut in, reaching for another bread roll. “It’s Rita Skeeter. If the shoe fits…”
Hermione exhaled through her nose but didn’t argue.
Dinner was done, and Harry had no interest in listening to Seamus argue with Dean about Quidditch rankings in common room, or playing with Ron. He had something more important to do.
Time to find a brewing spot.
Daphne had mentioned abandoned classrooms near the dungeons. Some of them had apparently been used for potions once, but Hogwarts being Hogwarts, they’d fallen into disuse. Perfect. If they could find one secluded enough, it could work.
The first door he tried was locked. Even Alohomora didn’t help.
The second? Full of broken desks stacked against the walls, with a thick layer of dust over everything. A quick Lumos revealed mice scurrying in the corners. Probably not ideal.
The third was better. The air was musty, but the desks were pushed neatly against the walls, leaving plenty of space in the center. There was even an old blackened cauldron sitting in the corner. Of course they wouldn’t use it, not after spending 500 galeons on Magnus Crucible.
Harry stepped inside, letting the door swing shut behind him.
He moved further in, running his fingers along the shelves. They were mostly empty, but there were a few bottles of questionable-looking potion residue left behind, their labels long faded.
Now.. how to make it work?
I know that the story progress slow, let me know if it is okay, or you want me to change the pace. Also if you have any ideas for further elements of story then just type them down in comments.
what i have in plans is dueling tournament (flitwick) and occlumency and leglimency basic learning, but that will be connected to broken mind and broken body books (the one from black library, that sirius sent to harry) but obviously first thing thats gonna happen is tournament. Harry will take part of course, but the task will be different, more brutal and far more demanding.
And just to make that clear, the Trials of Merlin will be back. I want Harry to visit his Vault and also his parents grave with Siriius and by that moment, they will learn more about Trials. I have it all on my list, so yeah. If you want to brainstorm the story with me, just type stuff in comment. I always respond, and as always, thank you for your support.
Comments
Tessa Faron
Good so far, although shouldn't the Goblins visiting the Chambers see the shed skin of the Basilisk before they see the real thing? "And then, just like before, he was spit out onto the hard stone floor of the Chamber of Secrets. Dumbledore stood a few feet ahead, hands resting lightly on his robes, waiting. And stretched across the vast stone floor, coiled in death just as it had been two years ago, lay the basilisk." Wasn't there a whole few chambers before they could see the main room? Not to mention the cave-in that happened, making it pretty hard to access the chamber itself.
Thrivean
Any time, glad I could help lol. I just want to see a good story written to completion :)
rotamod
Yeah. Ive also thought about that. Next chapter we are pushing timeline forward to jumpstart with the tournaments. That was the comment that tbh I didnt even know I needed. Thanks bro.
Thrivean
I think you need to consider how long you’re really willing to write this story to decide on pacing. You’re 20 chapters in and you’ve covered ~2-3 months, and you push a chapter every week. At your current pace it’ll take you until this time next year to finish year 4, and that’s if the story doesn’t get more dense as you include the tournament and the training. At this rate you’re looking at 4 years to finish the story if you keep a consistent publishing schedule with no breaks and plan to finish the story in 7th year. As far as what I want to see I’d like the story to progress a little faster, you’ve established character dynamics and given us a look in classes. Continuing that outside of Defense and Potions would be repetitive unless it has a direct story impact, and even then I think you’ve established most of what’s needed in the two aforementioned classes. I think you’ve really excel in writing banter and general character interactions, and you should lean into that more instead of focusing energy into making up technical knowledge for different magical disciplines outside of the bare minimum you need to progress your story. If you ever want beta reading help or more in-depth feedback let me know, I don’t mind giving some of my time for content I enjoy!
rotamod
Will do!
J R
I hoping for HarryxDaphne moments
