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Harry Potter: The Artisan's Path Chapter 73
🕑 Added 2024-05-24 18:54:48 +0000 UTCHi all,
Here’s the next chapter. I finally got this one out. The Naruto chapter will be out tomorrow, and I will only have the plot bunnies' chapter to post later tomorrow or Monday morning.
Chapter 73
Harry woke up naked and in a state of blissful relaxation. As he slowly came to his senses, a wide grin illuminated his face as he recalled what he and Daphne had gotten up to. He turned his head and saw Daphne lying beside him, her golden hair cascading over her naked back. Scenes of their joining filled his head and he hardened when he recalled how tight she had been when she accepted him into her body.
He drew closer and gave Daphne a tender kiss on the neck, eliciting a sleepy murmur from her. As she shifted onto her back, the blanket slipped, revealing her breasts, and he swallowed heavily. Unable to resist, he lightly traced his fingers across her skin, savouring how soft it felt.
Daphne's eyes flickered open, a sleepy smile playing on her lips. "Can't get enough, Potter?"
“It might take me some time to satisfy this hunger you have awoken in me,” Harry admitted.
“Beast.”
She yawned, stretching her arms above her body, which only served to push out her breasts. He groaned and reached out to cup them in his hands.
"Feeling eager for more, are we?” Daphne teased. “Perhaps you should seek out Gabrielle or Susan if you're still raring to go."
Harry's expression betrayed a hint of confusion. "They knew what was going to happen? I thought it was spontaneous.”
“Of course it wasn’t,” Daphne said. "We all agreed it was time to take things to the next level, Harry."
"But I made the first move," Harry complained. “And I wasn’t part of the discussion to deepen our relationship.”
His protest was met with a playful pat on the cheek. "Are you complaining?"
"No complaints here." Why was he even making a fuss about it? Perhaps the sight of her lying there naked was scrambling his brains. “Wait a moment. Are you saying Gabrielle and Susan are also ready to have sex? How come you got to go first?”
Daphne's laughter filled the room. "A simple game of rock, paper, scissors decided it."
“So, who gets to go…nevermind,” Harry said, shaking his head. He leaned down and kissed her. “Right now, I’m enjoying the afterglow of the mind-blowing sex we had.”
“This was our first time. How do you know it was mind-blowing?”
“Because I was part of it,” Harry said with a hint of arrogance. “I made you orgasm, didn’t I?”
Daphne shoved him away. “Don’t get cocky, Potter. I expect my next time to be even better, or I might just throw you away for someone better.”
Harry jumped on her and began tickling her side, causing her to squeal and try to escape his grasp. During the process, the blanket slipped completely off her body. Harry paused, his gaze lingering on her alluding form.
"You're stunning," he murmured huskily. "I think I've found the perfect memory for my patronus."
“Why don’t you try casting it?”
Harry summoned his wand, allowing the memory of her to fuel the spell. A bright-white, translucent animal emerged from his wand and flew around his bedroom. Daphne gasped, sitting up in bed and gazing at the patronus, feeling an indescribable warmth wash over her.
“It's a runespoor,” she exclaimed.
Harry nodded, equally amazed. His patronus had taken the form of a three-headed snake. He had half-expected it to be the same as his animagus form, but he wasn’t disappointed with the outcome.
Once the patronus determined that there was no threat, it flew over to Daphne. One of its heads reached forward, allowing her to pet it before it vanished.
"It felt solid," Daphne exclaimed. “You never do things in half measures, do you?”
"I aim to please," Harry said, returning his wand to its holster. He checked his watch and realised it was almost time for dinner. "Let’s head for the Great Hall before our friends come looking for us."
Daphne got out of bed and began picking up her clothes off the floor. The sight of her bending down immediately caused his brain to shut down.
“On second thought,” Harry said. “There’s still plenty of time.”
=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=
A group of cats ran purposefully through the second-floor corridor. Leading them was a tabby with distinctive face markings resembling a pair of glasses.
Upon reaching their destination, the tabby let out a meow. The other cats stopped, attentive, as the tabby issued instructions. They dispersed, positioning themselves strategically in the corridor to keep watch for any approaching individuals.
The tabby's form morphed, transforming into a human. With a quick glance around, Minerva drew her wand and cast a series of detection spells on the door. Convinced that there were no complex protections in place, she disabled the wards and opened the door. The quarters were completely dark, so she cast the lumos charm to illuminate her surroundings.
“Let’s see if you are hiding anything incriminating,” she murmured.
Minerva was taking advantage of the opportunity to search Gilderoy Lockhart's quarters while he was eating dinner in the Great Hall. If Obsidian had infiltrated the castle, as Madam Zabini had suggested, she was going to find them before they could cause any more harm. There were only two new professors hired this year, and one of them she had no reason to distrust. A simple process of elimination made Gilderoy the most likely suspect.
She wasn’t going to wait for another dangerous incident that threatened Harry's safety. There had already been three such occurrences in the previous two months. Although all three could be explained as accidents, their frequency was too suspicious. She didn’t think her heart could take it if Harry was put in danger again.
Minerva started searching his quarters for anything incriminating. The light from her wand struck the wall, and she was confronted with a row of Gilderoy portraits winking at her. Disgusted, she turned away from them. After searching the living room, she went to his bedroom. There was a stack of letters on the desk beside the bed, and she sifted through them. They appeared to be nothing more than fan mail, but she made sure to make a copy of them before placing them in her pockets.
When she opened his bedside drawer, she discovered several pain relief potions mixed in with some facial care products. Was he suffering from some kind of illness? Why does he need so many of them? While it was slightly strange, it wasn’t anything suspicious.
Minerva closed the drawer and finished searching his room. She searched the rest of his quarters, but she found nothing linking him to Obsidian or to the incidents in the past two months. Just as she was about to leave, a burnt odour teased her nostrils.
Minerva sniffed, her senses detecting something unusual. She investigated the fireplace, where she discovered a scattering of black powder on the floor. Curious, she reached down and touched the powder, rubbing it between her fingers. It was something she wasn’t familiar with. She collected a sample in a glass vial for later examination.
After another cursory search of the area, she exited the apartment and reactivated the wards on the door. She shifted back into her feline form, and the cats converged on her position.
"I need you to keep an eye on Gilderoy Lockhart," she informed them. "If he appears to be doing anything suspicious, come get me. Buttons, you stay close to his quarters."
A black cat meowed in response.
“Hershey, you will scope out his class on the grounds.”
Meow.
"Snowy, you will follow him when he isn’t at either of those locations. Dismissed.”
The cats scattered, and she shifted back. She had discovered that she could enlist the help of the castle's cats to complete some simple tasks. They all had Kneazle blood in them to some extent, so they were quite intelligent. Although they couldn’t speak to her directly, they seemed to understand what she was saying when she was in her feline form. She was sure their owners wouldn’t mind if she borrowed them every now and then.
Minerva returned to the Great Hall. As she sat back down at the staff table, she kept a watchful eye on Gilderoy Lockhart. He was chatting animatedly with some of the other professors, his charming smile never wavering. He didn’t look like someone who would commit murder, but appearances could be deceiving.
=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=
Gilderoy hesitated just before turning the doorknob, a feeling of unease settling in the pit of his stomach. His gaze wandered down the corridor, where a solitary cat stood, fixated on him. Startled by being discovered, the feline swiftly darted around the corner, disappearing from sight. Brushing off the odd encounter, he proceeded to deactivate the protective wards on his door and stepped into his quarters.
He winced as he removed his wig and droplets of blood trickled down his temple. With a sigh, he wiped it away, a reminder of the recent reprimand he had endured during a floo-call with his handler. This time, Eight decided that flogging his head was an appropriate punishment for his most recent failure. It had taken a lot of effort to stop the bleeding, but the excruciating pain remained.
His gaze shifted to the pictures on the wall, as was his habit, and he froze. All of the faces were now motionless. This meant that someone had broken into his quarters. The pictures were a security measure he had set up to alert him whenever someone entered his quarters uninvited.
Before coming to Hogwarts, he was useless at almost any type of magic except memory charms, but Obsidian had ensured that he was adequately trained for his mission. It had been painful because he wasn’t particularly talented, so he had to endure a slew of punishments before the teachings could stick.
He began to pace, his pain forgotten, as he tried to figure out who would break into his quarters. Was there someone on the staff who suspected he was working for Obsidian? After his latest failure, he made sure his quarters were clean of any evidence that could implicate him. If someone discovered the truth, then Eight wouldn’t hesitate to eliminate him.
Following his most recent punishment, he was told to stop all attempts to harm Harry Potter. His only job was to keep an eye on the boy and ensure that he kept his head down. He knew he had already been written off. Obsidian doesn't tolerate failure. If he could make it to the end of the school year, he would have to disappear. Maybe go to America or Australia? There were plenty of opportunities over there to start again.
Gilderpy entered his bedroom, grabbed a vial of pain reliever from his bedside drawer, and gulped it down to relieve his throbbing head. He focused his attention on his appearance, choosing a new wig from his dresser and adjusting it in front of the mirror. Despite the turmoil brewing beneath the surface, his commitment to maintaining his appearance was unwavering, as he flashed a practised smile.
“I’m still the handsomest of them all,” Gilderoy murmured.
"No, you're not," the mirror responded, its voice cutting through his self-assurance. "There are plenty in the castle who are more handsome. Take Harry Potter, for example."
Gilderoy scoffed dismissively. "That boy couldn't hold a candle to me."
“His three beautiful witches would say otherwise. Even before you lost your hair, you were no match for him," the mirror retorted.
"What would you know?" Gilderoy countered, his frustration mounting. "You're just a stupid mirror."
"I only speak the truth," the mirror replied.
Gilderoy's smile contorted into a mask of fury, and he seized the mirror, hurling it to the floor, where it shattered into countless shards. With a flick of his wand, he made the glass fragments disappear.
If an opportunity presents itself in the future, he might eliminate Harry Potter on his own terms. No one was more handsome than him.
=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=
Harry’s girlfriends wanted to talk to him after dinner, so he led them up to his dormitory and they sat on his bed, surrounding him. The sight of three stunning witches perched on his bed did nothing to calm his nerves, especially considering the fantasies that had occupied his mind earlier.
"I heard you had a good time with Daphne," Gabrielle began. "I had hoped to be your first. I'm certain that bitch cheated somehow. You can never trust her, she's too cunning."
"Ah, the accusations of sore losers," Daphne retorted with a snort. "No need to fret, your time will come. You're just a French sl—"
"Let's pause for a moment," Susan interjected. "I know you two enjoy your banter, but we need to have a serious discussion."
“No, let them continue,” Harry suggested. “I find it kind of hot.”
Daphne and Gabrielle blew him kisses.
"Quiet down, Harry," Susan commanded, before taking a breath to continue. "I understand you may have felt left out regarding our conversation about introducing intimacy into our relationship."
"Just a bit," Harry admitted. 'But it's always going to be your decision when you feel ready. I wouldn't push you too hard, or my grandfather would have kicked my ass if he found out."
“What about your grandmother?” Daphne asked.
Harry shuddered. "Let's not even go there."
Susan giggled. “Should I tell my auntie?”
“Do you want me to die? Besides, we haven’t had sex yet.”
"It's only a matter of time."
"So, what's the plan moving forward?" Harry asked.
Gabrielle placed a hand on his chest. "Feeling eager, are we?"
Harry nodded. "Now that I've experienced it, I want all of you. It's not just about the physical aspect, but the emotional connection. I feel closer to Daphne, and I want the same with both of you."
The girls exchanged glances.
"We decided to give each other a week to adjust to this new level of intimacy," Gabrielle explained. "Daphne will have her week with you first, then it will be my turn. Susan will go last."
"I'm a bit nervous," Susan admitted, fiddling with her hands. "So, going last doesn't bother me."
Harry took her hand, bringing it to his lips for a gentle kiss. "Forget what I said. Take all the time you need. "
“I want you," Susan said, leaning in to kiss him. "But as the shy Hufflepuff, I'll never be as bold as Daphne and Gabrielle."
"I don't need you to be anyone else," Harry reassured her. "I love you just as you are."
Susan jumped into his arms and started kissing him, obviously pleased by his words.
After a minute, Daphne pulled Susan away. "There's something else we need to discuss."
"We haven't talked about whether we're comfortable with sharing intimacy amongst ourselves," Gabrielle brought up. "We're all fine with taking turns with you, but are we open to sharing each other?"
Harry froze. His mind immediately began running through a number of pleasurable scenarios.
“Harry!” Daphne snapped her fingers in front of his face. “And we have lost him.”
The girls laughed as Harry shook himself out of his daydream, offering a sheepish grin.
“Well, I don’t think this is something I can decide either,” Harry said. “If you feel attracted to each other, then you are free to explore it. I would like to think that our relationship is centred around each other, not just me.”
“How did you get so glib with your tongue?” Daphne said. “You know exactly the right thing to say.”
“I’m amazing, right?” Harry joked.
“Why don’t we return to this topic at a later date?” Susan suggested. “Let’s wait until we have each had our week alone with you.”
They all agreed to the suggestion and moved on to other topics.
“Let me show you my patronus,” Harry said. “I managed to cast it earlier thanks to some amazing memories of Daphne.”
“That’s another thing you stole from me,” Gabrielle complained.
Daphne shrugged. “You will get over it eventually.”
=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=
13th November
The next morning, Harry was seated in the Great Hall when Hedwig swooped in, delivering two letters to him.
He opened the first one and read through it. It was official confirmation from the artisan guild headquarters that his entry into the upcoming competition had been accepted. The event was set to take place in January at the guild's headquarters in Finland, promising a grand spectacle with prestigious prizes and a media frenzy. Harry couldn't help but feel a mix of excitement and nerves at the thought of participating in such a competition.
Harry showed the letter to his friends, who gathered around him with curiosity.
“There aren’t any details about the tasks involved,” Hermione said. “Are they expecting you to go into it blind?”
Harry shrugged. "I suppose we'll all start on equal footing."
“Surely, you’re not that naive,” Daphne said. "There's always some underhanded tactics in competitions. Some participants might already have inside knowledge."
“I thought the guild was going to use Harry as a mascot.” Neville asked. “That’s not going to work if he doesn’t win, or at least place within the top ten.”
“That’s true,” Daphne said, smirking. “Maybe they will have Harry cheat instead.”
“That’s more likely,” Tracy said. “Say, is there any betting on the results of this competition?”
“Tracy!” Hermione gasped.
“I can float you a loan if you want to bet some galleons as well,” Daphne offered.
Hermione bit into her toast angrily, ignoring her.
Ignoring the banter, Harry turned his attention to the second letter, his brow furrowing as he delved into its contents.
Harry,
I’m have heard some rumblings within Gringotts surrounding your apprenticeship. I believe that a faction within the bank is targeting you for some reason. Maybe they are offended that a human was taught some of the goblin’s fighting techniques. Perhaps it has nothing to do with you; instead, they are using you to get to me.
There are some laws and traditions surrounding our apprenticeships that I didn’t explain to you because I assumed they would never be needed. But it can now be used against you. It is possible that you will be summoned to fight in an arena. It’s not something you should get involved in because goblins are always out to kill. You will have to adhere to the arena’s rules, which are to fight with a weapon and not magic.
You may believe that they cannot compel you to do this, but I am afraid that any humans caught up in our laws must obey them. It’s part of our treaty with the ministry, and they will not risk war by breaking it. Technically, once I took you on as an apprentice, you were considered a goblin citizen. Although I’m sure that technicality has been ignored until now.
For the time being, I am holding off on any attempts to make the fight a reality, and even if it does occur, you aren’t required to participate. As your master, I am prepared to shield you from the consequences. No doubt, blood will be spilled. In the meantime, you should keep your skills sharp, just in case. Goblins are a treacherous lot, so you can never predict what they will do.
Footshredder
Harry chucked the letter onto the table, feeling a sinking sensation in his stomach. Who knew that getting trained by a goblin would create such drama? From what he understood of the letter, Footshredder was going to completely shield him from the consequences. But he would be in danger, and that didn’t sit well with him.
“What’s the matter?” Gabrielle asked, picking up the letter and reading it. “Merde!”
She shared the contents of the letter with the others, and they began discussing the implications.
“You need to tell your grandparents, Harry,” Hermione said.
"No, I don’t,” Harry said firmly. “There is no immediate threat, only the possibility of one. If that changes, then I will tell them.”
“Harry—”
“I need to speak to Sheena,” Harry said, pushing away from the table and standing up.
Harry approached Sheena, who was sitting next to Snape at the head table.
“What’s up, Harry?” Sheena asked.
“I need to train my bojutsu skills.”
Sheena raised an eyebrow. “I thought that was what we were doing.”
“I need you to increase the intensity of my training. I don’t have the luxury of time,” Harry said. “Footshredder said he might pay me a visit for a mock duel, and I don’t feel like being beaten badly again.”
“I would pay to see that,” Snape sneered.
Harry shot him a sharp look. "Perhaps you should invest your money in something more worthwhile. Like sha—"
“Enough,” Sheena interrupted. “Finish that sentence and you will be serving detention with me.”
“How can you threaten him with detention when you interrupted him in the first place to save him from said detention?” Snape snapped. “Twenty points from Gryffindor for your impudence, Potter."
Harry ignored him. "So, what do you say?"
Sheena sighed. “Fine, sugar. I will meet you after your classes today.”
"Fantastic. On another note, I received a response from the artisan headquarters," Harry told her. "I've been sent news of my enrollment in the under-eighteens competition."
“That’s great news!” Sheena exclaimed. “I will see if I can get someone to cover for me so I can go with you.”
“I would like that. You could give me a tour of Helsinki.”
“You’re going to love the city. There is so much to take in.”
Harry returned to his seat. He felt slightly better now about the situation, now that he had taken some action to do something about it, no matter how futile. With any luck, Footshredder would resolve the situation at Gringotts before it escalates any further.
=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=
15th November
"Before we delve into the main topic, I must share something my wife uncovered in a professor’s quarters," Charlus began. "Based on the intelligence we've gathered, it's highly likely that Obsidian has a mole at Hogwarts. Gilderoy Lockhart is our primary suspect, so she took it upon herself to break into his quarters and search for evidence."
Daniel Greengrass furrowed his brow. "I find it hard to believe that someone like Gilderoy could pull off a calculated murder and make it appear accidental."
"Which is precisely why he could be the perfect choice—underestimated and overlooked," chimed in another member.
The Order of the Demiguise members sat around the table. This was their first meeting as an official organisation. All of the members had joined for one reason or another, but they were all determined to bring down Obsidian. They were still figuring things out in terms of organisation, but since they only had eight members so far, it wasn’t that important yet. Charlus was the leader, but all of them had specific roles that suited their talents. For example, Seraphine was in charge of recruitment thanks to her vast array of connections in Europe.
"This is floo powder," Croaker said, tossing the vial on the table. “But it’s not the typical floo powder you are used to. It can intercept the Floo Network, allowing criminals to create their own clandestine communication network.”
"I have heard of the dark network," Daniel admitted. "Some of my less savoury clients use it, but acquiring the floo powder isn't easy. You need to be part of an exclusive circle."
“Can Obsidian use it to enter the castle?” Seraphine asked, alarmed.
"No," Charlus replied, shaking his head. "The wards don’t allow people to enter through the floo without the permission of the headmaster or deputy headmistress. Lockhart can floo-call, but he cannot bring someone in.”
“Well, that’s a relief,” Seraphine sighed.
"What's our next move with this intel?" Charlus inquired. "Should we capture Lockhart and interrogate him?”
"It suggests that he is involved with some criminals," Moody observed. "But it doesn't necessarily tie back to Obsidian."
"You cannot believe that," Violet scoffed, the smoke from her cigarette curling around her in a haze.
Moody's magical eye spun around to look at her. "I prefer having concrete evidence before we act. We're already operating outside the law, so we need to be careful. There's no margin for error."
"We should involve Amelia," Seraphine suggested. "Having a law enforcement ally could help us smooth out any potential encounters we have with the law."
Moody barked out a laugh. "Amelia won't entertain the idea. She’s too principled."
“I suggest we maintain close surveillance on Lockhart and await an opportunity to catch him red-handed,” Daniel proposed. “Given his numerous failed attempts, I doubt he'll risk targeting Harry again so soon.”
Violet chuckled. “Are you certain Harry isn't a cat like your wife, Charlus? The lad seems to have nine lives, always escaping dangerous situations.”
Charlus smirked. “That theory does hold water. He does possess that curious, cat-like quality that gets him into danger far too often.”
“Rubbish,” Daniel retorted, waving off the notion. “The real reason he is able to survive such dangerous situations is because he’s an amazing wizard.”
Seraphine concurred. “He's incroyable.”
“You're only saying that because Daphne and Gabrielle are involved with him,” Violet teased. “Feeling pleased with yourselves for having such an extraordinary son-in-law?”
“He's not a son-in-law yet,” Daniel clarified, casting a glance at Charlus. “But I wouldn't mind formalising the relationship.”
Charlus remained silent.
Daniel pressed on. “My daughter wrote to me, sharing that Harry conjured a corporeal patronus after just a week of practice. That's quite remarkable, isn't it?”
The group expressed awe, even Moody appeared impressed, evident in his surprised expression. Charlus beamed with pride at his grandson's achievement.
“What form does his patronus take?” Seraphine inquired.
“A runespoor,” Daniel boasted, as if it were his own personal achievement. “It shows his true nature as a snake. Perhaps we should have him sorted by the Sorting Hat? He didn’t get a chance last year. I’m sure he will be sorted into Slytherin.”
“Let's refocus on the meeting, shall we?” Charlus interjected, irritated by Daniel's suggestion. Just because Harry was dating his daughter didn't grant Daniel a say in Harry's life. “I'll have Minerva monitor Lockhart closely. If there's another incident, we'll bring him in for questioning.”
The members nodded in agreement.
Charlus turned to another member who had been silent so far. “Irma, you've been researching the origins of Obsidian. Have you discovered anything?”
He had enlisted the strait-laced librarian for her exceptional knowledge and research acumen. Her swift acceptance had surprised him, but Minerva's endorsement of her character had reassured him. Perhaps she sought excitement in her life, considering she didn’t have a life outside of Hogwarts.
Irma pushed up her glasses. “The organisation first emerged in the late nineteen-forties in Romania. They were known by a different name. Magie Suprema.”
“What does that translate to?” Moody asked.
“Magic supreme,” Seraphine answered.
“Sounds like a group of pure-blood extremists who despise Muggles,” Moody growled.
"I am one of those purebloods, and I have no animosity towards Muggles," Violet retorted.
A sense of foreboding washed over Charlus. The organisation's origins and timing seemed uncomfortably close to something he believed had been eradicated a long time ago.
Irma continued. “At first, they were mercenaries, hiring themselves out to anyone who could afford them. They were known to be ruthless and efficient, lacking in any sort of morals. Their reputation grew until they were known throughout all of Europe. But they suddenly disappeared in the nineteen-fifties, as if they had vanished from the face of the earth. After some digging, I linked them to the emergence of Obsidian, which appeared a few years later.”
“Do you know where the members came from?” Charlus asked, though he suspected the answer.
“Considering the time period and the name they used,” Irma said. “I believe they are remnants of Grindelwald's army, possibly even his inner circle, given their prowess with a wand.”
Her revelation cast a heavy silence over the room.
=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=
The old man sat in front of the fireplaces, staring into the crackling black flames. Within those flames, a masked figure's face peered back at him.
"How did you manage to acquire this Floo connection?" Eight's voice sliced through the air, laced with harshness.
Albus stroked his beard, taking his time to respond. “It doesn’t really matter how I came across it. Are you willing to listen to my request?”
"Why should I listen to you? You are but a shadow of your former self. A once-respected wizard stripped of his name and honour for tormenting a child," Eight spat out.
The mention of his family name caused him to experience pain in his chest. He didn’t expect Aberforth to go so far, but he shouldn’t have been surprised. Charlus was merciless, leaving his brother no choice but to agree to disinherit him from the family.
“I find it a bit hypocritical that you are speaking about honour.”
"I'm not here for idle chatter," Eight snapped back. "What is it you seek, No-name?"
"Address me as you wish," Albus said, his expression serene. “My status isn’t important. The only thing that speaks to you is money.”
Eight chuckled. “I have more than enough money.”
"Perhaps this may pique your interest instead," Dumbledore suggested, producing a wand from within his robes. "This once belonged to Grindelwald, a prize claimed from the ruins of Nurmengard Castle.”
"You have no right to wield that, you fiend. You destroyed our utopia by taking his life," Eight hissed, his masked features contorted with rage. "If it were up to me, you'd have met your end long ago."
A faint smile played on Dumbledore's lips. "I may have claimed credit for his demise, but his blood is not on my hands. I loved him. I could have never killed him."
Eight froze. "What madness is this?"
"Charlus Potter was the one who killed him," Dumbledore revealed. "Why do you think I have such a long-standing animosity towards him? I made an unbreakable vow to kill him, no matter how long it took.”
Eight was silent for several minutes. “What do you want?”
"I am aware that you have someone inside the castle. I need you to kidnap a first-year student, Ginny Weasley. "The capture of Harry Potter would be a welcome bonus," Dumbledore said, his blue eyes twinkling.
So, what do you think? An unexpected alliance is going to cause some trouble for the Potters.
Thanks for reading.
