34. The Greater Good's Echo
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PatrikWriter
Master of the Forbidden Arts
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Quirrell watched me in silence, as if evaluating whether I was a friend or a foe. I wasn't worried, though. Within his body, Voldemort was exceptionally weakened, and although Quirrell was an adult wizard, the possession was taking a heavy toll on his magical core. I had no doubt that he was kept alive only by his own will and unicorn blood.
The problem, however, was that Voldemort would remember this meeting. By the time he returns in three years, I must be powerful enough that murdering me wouldn't be worth his while. Though... with his irrationality caused by the Horcruxes, one never knows.
"You are quite the hero, Mr. Rosier," he began in a calm voice. "You caught a Death Eater and freed an unjustly convicted man. Bravo."
He gestured a round of applause, a flash of madness flickering in his eyes for a moment. It was a dangerous situation, especially looking toward the future. I shook my head in disagreement and began to lead him exactly where I needed him.
"I don't consider myself a hero. I believe his capture is something absolutely everyone would approve of," I paused, adopting an expression of deep thought.
"Oh?" Voldemort prompted in a chilling voice with heavily suppressed anger.
"While the true and loyal rot in Azkaban, Pettigrew—like the common rat he is—ate, slept, and did God knows what at the Weasleys'. He is responsible for the Dark Lord's fall, for the fact that my father and others ended up in Azkaban. He is nothing but a filthy traitor. A coward who betrayed his own friends."
I saw a flash of understanding in his eyes, and the madness faded. It was replaced by coldness. Was Voldemort a sociopath, or had the Horcruxes truly destroyed him that much?
"So you consider Pettigrew a traitor to your father as well as his master?" he paused for a moment and added, "After Madam Bones' visit, it seemed more like you desired to be a hero."
"Professor, you sound almost like a sympathizer of the Dark Lord," I remarked with a slight smile. I immediately continued, however: "Purely hypothetically, of course."
Quirrell gave a cold smirk and nodded: "Purely hypothetically... yes."
"Well then—had it not been for Pettigrew, our side could have won long ago. My father wouldn't be in Azkaban, and a golden age of wizards would have begun. Pettigrew betrayed his closest friends. But why?" I threw out the theoretical question and followed up immediately: "What if it was all just Dumbledore's plan? He sacrificed both the Potters and Pettigrew..."
A chilling silence fell over his chambers. Madness and anger returned to his eyes; it seemed I had successfully redirected him toward a thought that would consume him. He feared Dumbledore, and if he killed Pettigrew in a fit of rage, it would be no great loss.
Finally, he broke the silence in a freezing voice: "Only the Dark Lord knows that."
I could have pointed out "knows?", implying he was dead, but I certainly didn't feel suicidal.
"As you say, Professor," I nodded neutrally. "Is there anything else you're interested in?"
Thoughtfully and with anger in his eyes, he shook his head, but quickly returned to his mask: "Y-you may go, Mr. R-rosier. It w-was an i-instructive conversation."
The only person who could buy his stuttering would have to have a single-digit IQ. He truly didn't have a high opinion of children. I, however, was glad he was such an idiot. I stood up immediately and left after a brief farewell. I had work to do.
On the way to the training classroom I had claimed at the beginning of the year, I had time to think. The situation was becoming increasingly serious for me. I was surrounded by magical titans, and both were showing an unhealthy interest in me. Although Dumbledore was the better choice, I still considered him a dangerous and sadomasochistic manipulator.
As an apology, Dumbledore offered to teach me something, provide me with a magical book, or grant me a favor. The problem was that mastering the entire book from Vespera would keep me busy enough. Besides that, Morgana's rituals awaited me. I already had one of them in mind, but for that one, I needed the summer holidays to hunt a troll. I needed to get stronger, but how? That was the key question.
The answer hit me just before I reached the classroom. I didn't need any new spell or book. I needed a memory that would give me more than anything else—I wanted to see the legendary duel between Grindelwald and Dumbledore. When I see two magical giants fighting at their peak, I will know exactly what level I need to reach to be a serious competitor to them.
If I obtain that memory, I will be able to replay it in my head non-stop using Occlumency. I will learn the spells they used, understand their fighting styles, and estimate their stamina, speed, and physical and magical dispositions.
I was firmly determined. Sooner or later, I would go to him with this request, but now it was time to continue training the Aegis Aurum, which was still giving me such trouble.
Time passed, and it was now the middle of March. I spent the last month training elemental magic and attempting to master the Aegis. Elemental magic was substantially more demanding magically than the Aegis. The problem was that although elements are natural to control and mainly require power and imagination, the subsequent honing of precision is difficult. Even though I was still just an elemental amateur, this form of magic came surprisingly easy to me.
My water whip was already as fast as Expelliarmus or Os Frangere. However, the effect was more devastating, even though the whip was, let's say, blunt for now. I had speeded it up, but what if I sharpened its edge? The strike would be just as strong but would also cut. Currently, a blunt hit could kill a person with a bit of luck, but what if the whip cut them right through? That would be a powerful technique.
Truthfully, I didn't even have a choice. I couldn't train Reducto because we still hadn't found the Room of Requirement. Agnes was trying sincerely and, instead of training, spent at least an hour every day "pacing" on the seventh floor. I was grateful to her; I knew she was doing it only because I wanted that room. However, we would all benefit from it.
While Agnes was missing from the classroom, Tobias and Theodore had an interesting duel nearby. I wasn't afraid of them hitting me—I was paying attention, and besides, I had a golden defensive dome created around me every few moments.
"Aegis Aurum!"
Once again, the golden dome flashed around me from all sides. I felt the radiating power and the strength of steel from it. I felt like a Spartan in a shield wall. The problem was still there, though—smaller, but it persisted.
In some places, the shield was more transparent. It was substantially better than when I started, and I was sure my power and concentration were sufficient. With every day of training, these "weak spots" were diminishing. Did I really just need endless repetition to master such powerful magic, until the spell soaked so deep into my mind and magic that it came out perfectly? Time was gradually proving to me that the answer was a definite yes.
"Aegis Aurum!"
I didn't give up and continued. I couldn't wait for the moment I would use this spell in a real fight. The golden dome appeared around me again. It seemed to me that there were slightly fewer transparent spots again, but it could have just been a figment of my frustrated mind. I had never had such trouble with any spell before, and I seriously felt like throwing it all in, getting a beer, and lighting a cigarette. Fortunately, I had neither alcohol nor cigarettes with me, so I patiently continued.
"Aegis Aurum!" "Aegis Aurum!" "Aegis Aurum!"
In the middle of training, the door suddenly opened. Agnes walked in with a triumphant smile, followed by Harry Potter, who was looking around the room with interest. When his gaze fell on me and my glowing golden Aegis, the interest in his eyes was replaced by pure fascination. With a wave of my wand, I immediately cancelled the shield.
"As you wanted, Patrik, Harry Potter is here!" Agnes announced to me triumphantly, as if I didn't have eyes.
"Excellent, Agnes. Thank you," I replied, while the others approached us with interest. Immediately after, however, I added: "Leave us alone, please."
Agnes immediately frowned and wanted to protest. Theo and Tobias headed for the exit without a word and in peace, so I just added to her concilatorily: "I'll explain it all to you later, Agnes, but this is a private conversation." I could still see that she felt like resisting, but in the end, she obeyed me and left.
As soon as the door closed, Potter spoke up curiously: "I'm here, Rosier. What do you want from me? DeMille has been trying to persuade me for the last two weeks until I finally gave in."
"Good old Agnes," I thought gratefully.
"I'm offering you a deal," I began. When I saw immediate suspicion in his eyes, I quickly added: "A mutually beneficial one."
Even though Potter was sorted into Gryffindor, I knew that in his heart, he had a piece of Slytherin as well. I wasn't surprised at all when he finally nodded.
"I'm listening."
"Without meaning to offend you, it's obvious you grew up with Muggles," I began matter-of-factly. Harry remained silent, so I continued: "And with some of the worst ones at that."
"Get to the point, Rosier. I'm not interested in your racism," he snapped coldly.
I shook my head in disagreement. "This isn't racism, Potter. Just like you, I grew up in the Muggle world, in an orphanage. While I mostly had good people around me, you lived with the lowest of the low. That is just a statement of fact."
His green eyes widened in surprise.
"What? But you're pureblood! The son of a Death Eater! How could you end up in an orphanage? Ron said pureblood families are all connected and stick together!" he blurted out, stunned.
"It's quite simple. In the bloody wars, it wasn't just your parents who lost their lives. The dark side lost people too; entire families were massacred. My mother, who wouldn't hurt a fly, was murdered by Aurors. I ended up in a home, and my father in Azkaban," I paused for a moment. "I know Muggles; there are good and bad ones. But wizards value their offspring substantially more—there is power in the blood, after all."
Harry stared at me in silence. I decided to break the silence that fell over the classroom with another blow.
"Every now and then, a child would come to the orphanage who had the same characteristic traits as you. Can you guess which ones they are?"
He shook his head wordlessly.
"Constant vigilance, avoiding attention, hunching your shoulders and shrinking into yourself just so you don't draw attention. Becoming attached too quickly to anyone who shows a bit of positive emotion. Hiding problems and downplaying your own pain."
I saw that he understood exactly where I was heading. I decided to rip the band-aid off completely.
"All these children came from abusive households. From environments where they were mistreated."
"What do you want, Rosier?!" he cried out angrily, tears of fury glistening in his eyes. "Do you want to mock me? You said you wanted to offer me a deal!"
"I certainly don't intend to mock you. No child deserves to suffer, and you are definitely not the only one who has gone through something like this. Once, witches were burned; today, they are mistreated behind closed doors if they have the misfortune of being born to Muggles," I paused for a moment. I saw him taking a breath to reply, and it was immediately clear to me that he wanted to mention Granger. I stopped him instantly.
"Don't bring Granger into this at all. Both her parents are dentists—they are educated and belong to the upper class. Uneducated and narrow-minded people treat children differently, especially if those children are different. I could name several people you know whom Muggles mistreated, or whose families were irreversibly scarred by the actions of Muggles."
Potter didn't give up, though. He was still clinging to the idea that the Dursleys were just some isolated anomaly.
"Oh yeah? Then I'm listening!" he challenged me defiantly.
I didn't plan on revealing Snape's past. I liked Snape more than Dumbledore, so the choice was easy.
"One powerful wizard you know comes from a respected family. They were a happy family with talented children who had only one misfortune—they lived near Muggles," I paused for a moment to give my words the necessary weight and a harsher effect.
"Until their daughter used uncontrollable magic while playing outside. By pure chance, Muggles saw her doing it. Can you imagine what they did to her?"
Potter didn't even breathe from the tension. He just nodded silently.
"Multiply it. They tortured her cruelly, and there are speculations that they also raped her. The girl was barely six years old. When she later returned home in a wretched state, her father, in a fit of rage, decided to take revenge. He killed those Muggles."
I paused for a moment. It was a foul and unpleasant history, like all the suffering of the helpless.
"What happened then?" Harry blurted out quietly.
"Her father ended up in Azkaban, and the daughter forever lost the ability to control her power. Her mother was left alone with three children, without money. When the girl was older, her magic exploded within her and killed her own mother. Three orphans were left. That powerful wizard and his friend then decided they would take over the world so that a similar tragedy would never happen again. They wanted wizards to rule over Muggles and establish order."
"That wizard who decided to take over the world... was it Lord Voldemort?" Harry asked with a hint of understanding and unexpected sympathy.
It made me laugh, though. I laughed from the heart for several seconds while he stared at me in wonder. When I finally calmed down, I decided to continue the story. With a smile, I shook my head in disagreement.
"That powerful wizard had a brother, but he was the eldest and was supposed to take care of his sister. But that went against the ambitions of both powerful mages. One evening, a conflict arose and a duel broke out—every man for himself. By unfortunate accident, Ariana got in the way of a curse... and died. The coalition fell apart, the hatred between the brothers has lasted to this day, and thanks to the failure of this powerful wizard in fulfilling his ambitions, children like you suffer today."
Potter clenched his fists so hard that his knuckles turned white. After a while, however, he ventured to ask:
"Who were those people? You said I know that powerful wizard."
"One of them was Gellert Grindelwald. He became a Dark Lord and almost conquered the entire world. He was a champion of wizards and wanted to establish the supremacy of magic so that no child would ever suffer at the hand of a Muggle again. However, he was defeated and is currently rotting in Nurmengard," I paused for a moment in amusement to deal him the final blow: "The other one, whom you know, is named Albus Dumbledore, the Headmaster of Hogwarts."
Harry stared at me in shock. He was speechless.
"Dumbledore felt such enormous remorse that he began to stand against anything that could cause conflict. So children continue to suffer, corruption prevails in Britain, and the magical world has moved nowhere in the last fifty years. Unfortunately, after his victory over Grindelwald in that legendary duel, he gained three significant positions through which he anxiously maintains the status quo."
I watched Potter as emotions flickered through him. Anger, hatred, sadness, understanding, and sympathy. After a while, however, he calmed down and asked: "What are we going to do about it?"
I had to smile at his naive question.
"We are going to do nothing about it. We are still young and helpless. Perhaps in the future, you can set it as your goal as the Boy Who Lived. In helping children, you will have my full support," I paused for a moment. I saw that he wanted to object, but he was still too inexperienced to understand how the world works.
"I didn't call you here so that we could change the world right away, Potter. I called you to offer you a deal that will be mutually beneficial. I have explained to you why I know you need me, and I have clarified the historical reasons why you are in danger in the Muggle world. I can help you with that."
"How? You aren't allowed to do magic in the Muggle world. Hermione explained to me that the Ministry of Magic is watching us, and we can be expelled from Hogwarts for multiple violations of the regulations."
I shook my head in disagreement and frowned.
"You shouldn't listen to Granger in everything, Potter. Her literal interpretation of the rules is more of a hindrance to you. You know yourself that what someone writes or says doesn't have to be true. The children's books about your adventures are pure fiction. No one would just expel you, the Boy Who Lived, from Hogwarts—you are a symbol. Besides, you are a Potter, a member of a wealthy and powerful family with a long history."
"Potter? A wealthy and powerful family with a long history?" he asked curiously.
I admit, at that moment I sympathized with him, so I decided to answer him, although I felt like moving on to the deal immediately.
"Yes, your family has a documented history since the twelfth century, and I assume it existed long before that. Your ancestors became famous for inventing potions that are still used in healing today. The Potters always fought for what they considered right. You are exceptionally wealthy and come from a line with deep roots. It's a shame you walk around in ragged Muggle clothes. You should change that and start learning about your heritage."
I felt gratitude from him for this information. He probably thought until now that he was just an extraordinary boy from a completely ordinary family.
"Your problem is that you are defenseless in the Muggle world. Without magic, you can't protect yourself. And that is exactly what I can help you with. I know a ritual that I went through myself. it got rid of the Ministry's tracking for me. So I can do magic even in front of Muggles without anyone knowing."
"What do you want for it?" he asked with interest.
He didn't ask about the risks or anything important at all. Fool.
"A thousand Galleons, Potter. As a wealthy heir, you can afford it," I suggested matter-of-factly.
I saw that the price didn't deter him, but he immediately asked: "And the risks? The negatives? Rituals are dark, aren't they?"
Okay, I take it back. He wasn't such a fool.
"No, just like magic, rituals vary. This one is white/neutral and purely beneficial. It will rid you of all foreign magic you carry within you—including the tracking spell they placed on you during your first boat trip to Hogwarts. Thanks to it, the Ministry monitors wizards under seventeen. Another person will undergo this ritual too, so you can watch them in peace to see that there is no danger."
"Hm, sounds good," he paused for a moment and added: "I'll think about it and let you know."
I nodded in agreement. "The sooner the better, Potter. So we can plan it."
He was already heading for the exit when I decided to do one more good deed.
"Potter! Your father was a gifted Transfiguration master, while your mother was a master of Charms," I paused for a moment. Harry stopped right in front of the door. "Voldemort is still out there somewhere. It would be a shame if your parents' sacrifice went completely to waste just because you remain academically and magically at Weasley's level—even though your spells are already relatively powerful."
I stared intently at his back. "Stop holding yourself back, or you'll regret it in the future."
Harry nodded silently and left without a word.
I remained in the classroom alone and finally had time to think. Black still hadn't reached out. There was no news in the Daily Prophet, apart from the usual conspiracies. I wrote to Vespera regularly; she mentioned no problems. Every day I felt more powerful, although I assumed I would make the real jump forward only after the summer ritual.
I was sure Potter would accept my offer. I would have a thousand more Galleons and at the same time build an important, albeit secret for now, relationship.
I no longer felt like practicing the Aegis, so I headed to Dumbledore for the promised bribe.
Author's note:
So, did the encounter with Voldemort live up to your expectations? I hope you weren't looking for a duel just yet. Voldemort, despite his fractured sanity, is still playing the long game for the Stone and has no intention of revealing himself too early. However, this confrontation gave our MC exactly the motivation he needed—and finally, a clear goal for what to demand from Dumbledore.
While the Aegis spell remains a stubborn challenge, "dear Agnes" came through and brought Potter into the mix. I'm curious, did Dumbledore's dark family history catch you off guard? I had a good laugh writing the scene where Harry asks if Patrik is referring to Voldemort—the irony was just too good
.
Given that Harry's only prior interaction with the Dumbledore was a fleeting moment at the Mirror of Erised, this conversation is bound to leave a mark. How will this change him? Will we see a Potter who is more pragmatic, more powerful, or perhaps even darker? We shall see...
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35. Memory: Dumbledore vs Grindelwald
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42. Pain as a Teacher
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The problem, however, was that Voldemort would remember this meeting. By the time he returns in three years, I must be powerful enough that murdering me wouldn't be worth his while. Though... with his irrationality caused by the Horcruxes, one never knows.
"You are quite the hero, Mr. Rosier," he began in a calm voice. "You caught a Death Eater and freed an unjustly convicted man. Bravo."
He gestured a round of applause, a flash of madness flickering in his eyes for a moment. It was a dangerous situation, especially looking toward the future. I shook my head in disagreement and began to lead him exactly where I needed him.
"I don't consider myself a hero. I believe his capture is something absolutely everyone would approve of," I paused, adopting an expression of deep thought.
"Oh?" Voldemort prompted in a chilling voice with heavily suppressed anger.
"While the true and loyal rot in Azkaban, Pettigrew—like the common rat he is—ate, slept, and did God knows what at the Weasleys'. He is responsible for the Dark Lord's fall, for the fact that my father and others ended up in Azkaban. He is nothing but a filthy traitor. A coward who betrayed his own friends."
I saw a flash of understanding in his eyes, and the madness faded. It was replaced by coldness. Was Voldemort a sociopath, or had the Horcruxes truly destroyed him that much?
"So you consider Pettigrew a traitor to your father as well as his master?" he paused for a moment and added, "After Madam Bones' visit, it seemed more like you desired to be a hero."
"Professor, you sound almost like a sympathizer of the Dark Lord," I remarked with a slight smile. I immediately continued, however: "Purely hypothetically, of course."
Quirrell gave a cold smirk and nodded: "Purely hypothetically... yes."
"Well then—had it not been for Pettigrew, our side could have won long ago. My father wouldn't be in Azkaban, and a golden age of wizards would have begun. Pettigrew betrayed his closest friends. But why?" I threw out the theoretical question and followed up immediately: "What if it was all just Dumbledore's plan? He sacrificed both the Potters and Pettigrew..."
A chilling silence fell over his chambers. Madness and anger returned to his eyes; it seemed I had successfully redirected him toward a thought that would consume him. He feared Dumbledore, and if he killed Pettigrew in a fit of rage, it would be no great loss.
Finally, he broke the silence in a freezing voice: "Only the Dark Lord knows that."
I could have pointed out "knows?", implying he was dead, but I certainly didn't feel suicidal.
"As you say, Professor," I nodded neutrally. "Is there anything else you're interested in?"
Thoughtfully and with anger in his eyes, he shook his head, but quickly returned to his mask: "Y-you may go, Mr. R-rosier. It w-was an i-instructive conversation."
The only person who could buy his stuttering would have to have a single-digit IQ. He truly didn't have a high opinion of children. I, however, was glad he was such an idiot. I stood up immediately and left after a brief farewell. I had work to do.
On the way to the training classroom I had claimed at the beginning of the year, I had time to think. The situation was becoming increasingly serious for me. I was surrounded by magical titans, and both were showing an unhealthy interest in me. Although Dumbledore was the better choice, I still considered him a dangerous and sadomasochistic manipulator.
As an apology, Dumbledore offered to teach me something, provide me with a magical book, or grant me a favor. The problem was that mastering the entire book from Vespera would keep me busy enough. Besides that, Morgana's rituals awaited me. I already had one of them in mind, but for that one, I needed the summer holidays to hunt a troll. I needed to get stronger, but how? That was the key question.
The answer hit me just before I reached the classroom. I didn't need any new spell or book. I needed a memory that would give me more than anything else—I wanted to see the legendary duel between Grindelwald and Dumbledore. When I see two magical giants fighting at their peak, I will know exactly what level I need to reach to be a serious competitor to them.
If I obtain that memory, I will be able to replay it in my head non-stop using Occlumency. I will learn the spells they used, understand their fighting styles, and estimate their stamina, speed, and physical and magical dispositions.
I was firmly determined. Sooner or later, I would go to him with this request, but now it was time to continue training the Aegis Aurum, which was still giving me such trouble.
Time passed, and it was now the middle of March. I spent the last month training elemental magic and attempting to master the Aegis. Elemental magic was substantially more demanding magically than the Aegis. The problem was that although elements are natural to control and mainly require power and imagination, the subsequent honing of precision is difficult. Even though I was still just an elemental amateur, this form of magic came surprisingly easy to me.
My water whip was already as fast as Expelliarmus or Os Frangere. However, the effect was more devastating, even though the whip was, let's say, blunt for now. I had speeded it up, but what if I sharpened its edge? The strike would be just as strong but would also cut. Currently, a blunt hit could kill a person with a bit of luck, but what if the whip cut them right through? That would be a powerful technique.
Truthfully, I didn't even have a choice. I couldn't train Reducto because we still hadn't found the Room of Requirement. Agnes was trying sincerely and, instead of training, spent at least an hour every day "pacing" on the seventh floor. I was grateful to her; I knew she was doing it only because I wanted that room. However, we would all benefit from it.
While Agnes was missing from the classroom, Tobias and Theodore had an interesting duel nearby. I wasn't afraid of them hitting me—I was paying attention, and besides, I had a golden defensive dome created around me every few moments.
"Aegis Aurum!"
Once again, the golden dome flashed around me from all sides. I felt the radiating power and the strength of steel from it. I felt like a Spartan in a shield wall. The problem was still there, though—smaller, but it persisted.
In some places, the shield was more transparent. It was substantially better than when I started, and I was sure my power and concentration were sufficient. With every day of training, these "weak spots" were diminishing. Did I really just need endless repetition to master such powerful magic, until the spell soaked so deep into my mind and magic that it came out perfectly? Time was gradually proving to me that the answer was a definite yes.
"Aegis Aurum!"
I didn't give up and continued. I couldn't wait for the moment I would use this spell in a real fight. The golden dome appeared around me again. It seemed to me that there were slightly fewer transparent spots again, but it could have just been a figment of my frustrated mind. I had never had such trouble with any spell before, and I seriously felt like throwing it all in, getting a beer, and lighting a cigarette. Fortunately, I had neither alcohol nor cigarettes with me, so I patiently continued.
"Aegis Aurum!" "Aegis Aurum!" "Aegis Aurum!"
In the middle of training, the door suddenly opened. Agnes walked in with a triumphant smile, followed by Harry Potter, who was looking around the room with interest. When his gaze fell on me and my glowing golden Aegis, the interest in his eyes was replaced by pure fascination. With a wave of my wand, I immediately cancelled the shield.
"As you wanted, Patrik, Harry Potter is here!" Agnes announced to me triumphantly, as if I didn't have eyes.
"Excellent, Agnes. Thank you," I replied, while the others approached us with interest. Immediately after, however, I added: "Leave us alone, please."
Agnes immediately frowned and wanted to protest. Theo and Tobias headed for the exit without a word and in peace, so I just added to her concilatorily: "I'll explain it all to you later, Agnes, but this is a private conversation." I could still see that she felt like resisting, but in the end, she obeyed me and left.
As soon as the door closed, Potter spoke up curiously: "I'm here, Rosier. What do you want from me? DeMille has been trying to persuade me for the last two weeks until I finally gave in."
"Good old Agnes," I thought gratefully.
"I'm offering you a deal," I began. When I saw immediate suspicion in his eyes, I quickly added: "A mutually beneficial one."
Even though Potter was sorted into Gryffindor, I knew that in his heart, he had a piece of Slytherin as well. I wasn't surprised at all when he finally nodded.
"I'm listening."
"Without meaning to offend you, it's obvious you grew up with Muggles," I began matter-of-factly. Harry remained silent, so I continued: "And with some of the worst ones at that."
"Get to the point, Rosier. I'm not interested in your racism," he snapped coldly.
I shook my head in disagreement. "This isn't racism, Potter. Just like you, I grew up in the Muggle world, in an orphanage. While I mostly had good people around me, you lived with the lowest of the low. That is just a statement of fact."
His green eyes widened in surprise.
"What? But you're pureblood! The son of a Death Eater! How could you end up in an orphanage? Ron said pureblood families are all connected and stick together!" he blurted out, stunned.
"It's quite simple. In the bloody wars, it wasn't just your parents who lost their lives. The dark side lost people too; entire families were massacred. My mother, who wouldn't hurt a fly, was murdered by Aurors. I ended up in a home, and my father in Azkaban," I paused for a moment. "I know Muggles; there are good and bad ones. But wizards value their offspring substantially more—there is power in the blood, after all."
Harry stared at me in silence. I decided to break the silence that fell over the classroom with another blow.
"Every now and then, a child would come to the orphanage who had the same characteristic traits as you. Can you guess which ones they are?"
He shook his head wordlessly.
"Constant vigilance, avoiding attention, hunching your shoulders and shrinking into yourself just so you don't draw attention. Becoming attached too quickly to anyone who shows a bit of positive emotion. Hiding problems and downplaying your own pain."
I saw that he understood exactly where I was heading. I decided to rip the band-aid off completely.
"All these children came from abusive households. From environments where they were mistreated."
"What do you want, Rosier?!" he cried out angrily, tears of fury glistening in his eyes. "Do you want to mock me? You said you wanted to offer me a deal!"
"I certainly don't intend to mock you. No child deserves to suffer, and you are definitely not the only one who has gone through something like this. Once, witches were burned; today, they are mistreated behind closed doors if they have the misfortune of being born to Muggles," I paused for a moment. I saw him taking a breath to reply, and it was immediately clear to me that he wanted to mention Granger. I stopped him instantly.
"Don't bring Granger into this at all. Both her parents are dentists—they are educated and belong to the upper class. Uneducated and narrow-minded people treat children differently, especially if those children are different. I could name several people you know whom Muggles mistreated, or whose families were irreversibly scarred by the actions of Muggles."
Potter didn't give up, though. He was still clinging to the idea that the Dursleys were just some isolated anomaly.
"Oh yeah? Then I'm listening!" he challenged me defiantly.
I didn't plan on revealing Snape's past. I liked Snape more than Dumbledore, so the choice was easy.
"One powerful wizard you know comes from a respected family. They were a happy family with talented children who had only one misfortune—they lived near Muggles," I paused for a moment to give my words the necessary weight and a harsher effect.
"Until their daughter used uncontrollable magic while playing outside. By pure chance, Muggles saw her doing it. Can you imagine what they did to her?"
Potter didn't even breathe from the tension. He just nodded silently.
"Multiply it. They tortured her cruelly, and there are speculations that they also raped her. The girl was barely six years old. When she later returned home in a wretched state, her father, in a fit of rage, decided to take revenge. He killed those Muggles."
I paused for a moment. It was a foul and unpleasant history, like all the suffering of the helpless.
"What happened then?" Harry blurted out quietly.
"Her father ended up in Azkaban, and the daughter forever lost the ability to control her power. Her mother was left alone with three children, without money. When the girl was older, her magic exploded within her and killed her own mother. Three orphans were left. That powerful wizard and his friend then decided they would take over the world so that a similar tragedy would never happen again. They wanted wizards to rule over Muggles and establish order."
"That wizard who decided to take over the world... was it Lord Voldemort?" Harry asked with a hint of understanding and unexpected sympathy.
It made me laugh, though. I laughed from the heart for several seconds while he stared at me in wonder. When I finally calmed down, I decided to continue the story. With a smile, I shook my head in disagreement.
"That powerful wizard had a brother, but he was the eldest and was supposed to take care of his sister. But that went against the ambitions of both powerful mages. One evening, a conflict arose and a duel broke out—every man for himself. By unfortunate accident, Ariana got in the way of a curse... and died. The coalition fell apart, the hatred between the brothers has lasted to this day, and thanks to the failure of this powerful wizard in fulfilling his ambitions, children like you suffer today."
Potter clenched his fists so hard that his knuckles turned white. After a while, however, he ventured to ask:
"Who were those people? You said I know that powerful wizard."
"One of them was Gellert Grindelwald. He became a Dark Lord and almost conquered the entire world. He was a champion of wizards and wanted to establish the supremacy of magic so that no child would ever suffer at the hand of a Muggle again. However, he was defeated and is currently rotting in Nurmengard," I paused for a moment in amusement to deal him the final blow: "The other one, whom you know, is named Albus Dumbledore, the Headmaster of Hogwarts."
Harry stared at me in shock. He was speechless.
"Dumbledore felt such enormous remorse that he began to stand against anything that could cause conflict. So children continue to suffer, corruption prevails in Britain, and the magical world has moved nowhere in the last fifty years. Unfortunately, after his victory over Grindelwald in that legendary duel, he gained three significant positions through which he anxiously maintains the status quo."
I watched Potter as emotions flickered through him. Anger, hatred, sadness, understanding, and sympathy. After a while, however, he calmed down and asked: "What are we going to do about it?"
I had to smile at his naive question.
"We are going to do nothing about it. We are still young and helpless. Perhaps in the future, you can set it as your goal as the Boy Who Lived. In helping children, you will have my full support," I paused for a moment. I saw that he wanted to object, but he was still too inexperienced to understand how the world works.
"I didn't call you here so that we could change the world right away, Potter. I called you to offer you a deal that will be mutually beneficial. I have explained to you why I know you need me, and I have clarified the historical reasons why you are in danger in the Muggle world. I can help you with that."
"How? You aren't allowed to do magic in the Muggle world. Hermione explained to me that the Ministry of Magic is watching us, and we can be expelled from Hogwarts for multiple violations of the regulations."
I shook my head in disagreement and frowned.
"You shouldn't listen to Granger in everything, Potter. Her literal interpretation of the rules is more of a hindrance to you. You know yourself that what someone writes or says doesn't have to be true. The children's books about your adventures are pure fiction. No one would just expel you, the Boy Who Lived, from Hogwarts—you are a symbol. Besides, you are a Potter, a member of a wealthy and powerful family with a long history."
"Potter? A wealthy and powerful family with a long history?" he asked curiously.
I admit, at that moment I sympathized with him, so I decided to answer him, although I felt like moving on to the deal immediately.
"Yes, your family has a documented history since the twelfth century, and I assume it existed long before that. Your ancestors became famous for inventing potions that are still used in healing today. The Potters always fought for what they considered right. You are exceptionally wealthy and come from a line with deep roots. It's a shame you walk around in ragged Muggle clothes. You should change that and start learning about your heritage."
I felt gratitude from him for this information. He probably thought until now that he was just an extraordinary boy from a completely ordinary family.
"Your problem is that you are defenseless in the Muggle world. Without magic, you can't protect yourself. And that is exactly what I can help you with. I know a ritual that I went through myself. it got rid of the Ministry's tracking for me. So I can do magic even in front of Muggles without anyone knowing."
"What do you want for it?" he asked with interest.
He didn't ask about the risks or anything important at all. Fool.
"A thousand Galleons, Potter. As a wealthy heir, you can afford it," I suggested matter-of-factly.
I saw that the price didn't deter him, but he immediately asked: "And the risks? The negatives? Rituals are dark, aren't they?"
Okay, I take it back. He wasn't such a fool.
"No, just like magic, rituals vary. This one is white/neutral and purely beneficial. It will rid you of all foreign magic you carry within you—including the tracking spell they placed on you during your first boat trip to Hogwarts. Thanks to it, the Ministry monitors wizards under seventeen. Another person will undergo this ritual too, so you can watch them in peace to see that there is no danger."
"Hm, sounds good," he paused for a moment and added: "I'll think about it and let you know."
I nodded in agreement. "The sooner the better, Potter. So we can plan it."
He was already heading for the exit when I decided to do one more good deed.
"Potter! Your father was a gifted Transfiguration master, while your mother was a master of Charms," I paused for a moment. Harry stopped right in front of the door. "Voldemort is still out there somewhere. It would be a shame if your parents' sacrifice went completely to waste just because you remain academically and magically at Weasley's level—even though your spells are already relatively powerful."
I stared intently at his back. "Stop holding yourself back, or you'll regret it in the future."
Harry nodded silently and left without a word.
I remained in the classroom alone and finally had time to think. Black still hadn't reached out. There was no news in the Daily Prophet, apart from the usual conspiracies. I wrote to Vespera regularly; she mentioned no problems. Every day I felt more powerful, although I assumed I would make the real jump forward only after the summer ritual.
I was sure Potter would accept my offer. I would have a thousand more Galleons and at the same time build an important, albeit secret for now, relationship.
I no longer felt like practicing the Aegis, so I headed to Dumbledore for the promised bribe.
Author's note:
So, did the encounter with Voldemort live up to your expectations? I hope you weren't looking for a duel just yet. Voldemort, despite his fractured sanity, is still playing the long game for the Stone and has no intention of revealing himself too early. However, this confrontation gave our MC exactly the motivation he needed—and finally, a clear goal for what to demand from Dumbledore.
While the Aegis spell remains a stubborn challenge, "dear Agnes" came through and brought Potter into the mix. I'm curious, did Dumbledore's dark family history catch you off guard? I had a good laugh writing the scene where Harry asks if Patrik is referring to Voldemort—the irony was just too good
.Given that Harry's only prior interaction with the Dumbledore was a fleeting moment at the Mirror of Erised, this conversation is bound to leave a mark. How will this change him? Will we see a Potter who is more pragmatic, more powerful, or perhaps even darker? We shall see...
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The shadows are shifting, and the story goes much deeper... If you can't wait for the next update, Advanced Chapters are already waiting for you.
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Upcoming Chapters – Already Written:
35. Memory: Dumbledore vs Grindelwald
36. The Bitterest Ink
37. The First Blood
38. The Black Legacy
39. HP: The Boy Invisible
40. Theory, Tears, and Hidden Things
41. A Potter's Ambition
42. Pain as a Teacher
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