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Harry was unaware of the small episode that had transpired in the Map Chamber.
Now, carrying all five required materials, he stood before the Slytherin Common Room, ready to enter the Slytherin Study. Taking advantage of the holiday period, when few would notice him, Harry approached the study’s entrance, pointed his wand at the wall, and cast, “Revelio!”
A flash of magic revealed three distinct marks on the wall. Simultaneously, three candelabras materialized at corresponding positions along the corridor’s sides.
“Confringo!” Harry flicked his wand, igniting the candelabras with a Blasting Curse. A door rumbled open in the wall.
Stepping inside, he used Incendio to light all the candelabras within the room. The space was a long corridor, clearly altered by Veratia, as it no longer required Parseltongue to proceed.
Harry moved forward slowly, casting Revelio repeatedly to check for changes after a century. Apart from Veratia’s reconfiguration of the layout, nothing else seed different.
He continued until he reached a small door sealed with ancient magic. Releasing the dark witch Farina from containnt, he raised his wand before she could react.
“Crucio!”
Farina let out a piercing scream, collapsing to the floor as pain and confusion seared her mind. The seal on the door dissolved with a flash of violet light and a soft click.
Without hesitation, Harry ceased the Cruciatus Curse and stored Farina back in his wallet. Strangely, ever since awakening his ancient magic, he no longer needed emotion to cast spells—they ca effortlessly.
Pushing the door open, Harry entered the familiar Slytherin Study. Yet, it felt alien. The furnishings had been entirely replaced with items Veratia once used, including her old desk.
Behind the desk, Veratia sat in a chair, eyes gently closed, seemingly unaware of Harry’s arrival.
“Veratia!”
For the first ti in a year and a half, Harry felt his friend from a century ago was so close. He rushed forward, trying to wake her. But as he neared, a bronze glow flashed, repelling him.
Harry recognized it as Veratia’s fortified ti-magic seal. Searching carefully, he spotted a stone disc on the desk before her, engraved with symbols of an angel, a dragon, a phoenix, and a basilisk. In the center was a small compartnt, likely for the Sands of Ti.
Without hesitation, he placed the dragon heart in the dragon’s slot. A violet glow pulsed across the disc, which turned with a soft click-click as the heart was absorbed.
Next, he took the angel feather. Unlike his expectations, it wasn’t white but colorless—not transparent, yet oddly ethereal. He placed it in the angel’s slot, triggering another violet flash and chanical whirring as the disc rotated.
Harry then placed the phoenix tears and basilisk fang on the disc, which absorbed them as before. The disc spun faster, almost as if it might take flight. Finally, he placed the Sands of Ti in the central compartnt.
The disc erupted in brilliant violet light, spinning rapidly with a high-pitched whine. Harry stood frozen, unsure what to do, watching the disc whirl.
Soon, it slowed, the violet glow dazzling, transforming the disc into sothing resembling a radiant purple gem. Simultaneously, bronze light flickered around Veratia’s chair, rippling like a curtain of liquid bronze.
Gradually, the bronze curtain faded.
Harry stepped forward, cautiously reaching out. This ti, nothing blocked him—his hand passed through freely. He hesitated, wanting to shake Veratia but fearing he might disrupt sothing. He stood there, hand hovering awkwardly.
What should he do?
Veratia remained in a deep slumber, showing no sign of waking. Growing anxious, Harry wished he could fly back to the Map Chamber to ask the professors for guidance.
“Veratia?” he asked tentatively.
No response.
Scratching his head, he tried to calm himself, searching for a solution. Unnoticed by the anxious Harry, Veratia’s eyes shifted slightly, and a faint sigh escaped her lips.
He looked up again. “Veratia? Can you hear ?”
Still nothing.
As he paced anxiously, a miracle happened.
“Harry?”
A barely audible voice sounded. Harry rushed to her side.
“I’m here!”
Veratia’s eyes slowly opened, revealing her violet pupils. “Harry?” she said softly. “I’ve finally waited for you…”
She straightened from the chair’s back, but Harry was stunned to see her golden hair begin to fade. From dazzling gold, it turned to silvery white.
“Your hair?” Harry asked, shocked.
“Oh.” Veratia lifted a strand, chuckling lightly. “That must be ti’s erosion. Harry, if I turn into an old hag soon, you won’t mind, will you?”
“Of course not,” Harry said, his nose stinging. He knew that radiant golden hair was Veratia’s pride. Now, it was silver.
Thankfully, the change seed limited to her hair—or so it appeared.
“Can you stand?” Harry asked.
Veratia tried, but her legs buckled, and she slumped back into the chair. “No, I’ve been trapped here too long. My legs are weak,” she said with a wry smile.
“Let help you.” Harry reached for her arm, but as he touched her clothes, they disintegrated into sand-like particles before his eyes.
Harry swallowed hard.
“Like what you see?” Veratia teased.
Realizing it was inappropriate, Harry turned away, fumbling in his wallet for the spare clothes he’d prepared. As he pulled them out, his mind raced: These clothes are so white… no, so big… no, so delicate…
Rustling sounds followed, and soon Veratia spoke again. “Alright, turn around.”
Harry spun back, a suspicious flush still on his cheeks.
“Are you blushing?” Veratia tilted her head, smirking. “Shouldn’t I be the one blushing, you naughty little Harry?”
“Haha…” Harry scratched his head, laughing awkwardly but politely.
“Oh, I won’t hold it against you,” Veratia said with a light laugh. “Stay with in the study for a bit. I’m still weak and need to adjust.”
“Sure,” Harry agreed.
A sudden burst of fla flared beside Veratia. “What’s that?” Harry asked, hurrying to investigate.
“It’s Fiona,” Veratia said. “When I entered the study, Fiona chose to join in the ti seal. She’s likely in a rebirth cycle, regaining her strength.”
Harry looked down to see a small fire on the floor, a tiny bird within it chirping up at him. “Fiona,” he said, picking up the miniature phoenix. “We et again!”
Fiona nuzzled his hand affectionately, chirping softly.
“Professor Dumbledore has a phoenix too,” Harry said. “Nad Fawkes—oh, right, he’s male.”
“Then I should warn you, Harry,” Veratia said, playfully tapping Fiona’s beak. “Without the ti seal, Fiona’s only a seven-year-old girl. You’d better not let Fawkes know she exists.”
“Why not?” Harry asked, puzzled.
“Phoenixes are rare these days, and Fiona’s a girl,” Veratia said softly. “I’d hate for Fawkes to get any ideas…”
Harry pictured it, chuckling wickedly. It was like a father-in-law sizing up a suitor. If Dumbledore was… well, particular, maybe his phoenix was too, only fancying male phoenixes? Like owner, like pet—hard to say if Fawkes might pick up Dumbledore’s… inclinations.
“How are you feeling?” Harry asked Veratia. “Hungry? I’ve got so snacks to boost your energy.”
“I’m fine,” Veratia said softly. “But… don’t you want to catch up on recent events?”
Harry blinked. “Recent events? Don’t you already know?”
Then it hit him. “Oh, right—your portrait knew, but you don’t.”
So, he recounted everything in detail. When he ntioned Gellert taking all her vault’s contents, Veratia’s smile turned dangerously sharp.
Harry shivered. Portrait or not, Veratia was equally perilous. He began silently mourning for Gellert: rlin, your sister’s coming for you!
“It seems I need to visit Nurngard myself,” Veratia said with a cold huff. “I’ll confront my foolish brother and ask why he took every Knut from my Gringotts vault!”
“And the alchemical materials,” Harry added. “He left you just a diadem… which, co to think of it, looks familiar.”
“It’s the one I wore,” Veratia said softly. “Rember? 1888, in Vienna, when you plucked it from a tree for .”
“Oh, I rember now,” Harry said, realization dawning. “No wonder it felt familiar… What happened to those bullies, by the way? I haven’t heard anything about them.”
“They’re all dead,” Veratia said with a sweet smile. “It’s been so many years—surely they’re gone by now, right?”
Harry suddenly recalled a lesson from Professor Howin, a Chinese professor, about an emperor nad “Zheng Ying.” As a child in the Zhao Kingdom’s capital, Handan, he was bullied. After becoming king, he raised an army, conquered Zhao, and, out of childhood grudges, buried his torntors’ children alive.
Harry shivered. Veratia wasn’t that vengeful, was she?
“Haha,” Harry laughed dryly. “So, Gellert? What’s the plan? He’s your brother—you wouldn’t… you know, end him, right?”
“Hmph,” Veratia scoffed. “Defeated, then immortalized on a Chocolate Frog Card? That’s humiliation squared! I’d rather he’d used my money to achieve sothing. But to squander it and accomplish nothing…”
“He should repay you,” Harry said cautiously. Gellert was her flesh-and-blood brother—surely she’d spare his life. Look at Poppy Sweating, surrounded by nephews and their kids, practically four generations living in harmony. Pure family bliss.
But Gellert…
Harry pondered. If Gellert had settled down like Newt, with adorable kids, maybe Veratia would go easy on him for their sake. But… he’d co out. That complicated things.
Telling Veratia such explosive news right after her return seed unwise. If her magic surged and flooded the study, that’d be bad enough. But if she flipped the entire castle? Catastrophe.
Thankfully, Veratia didn’t seem too furious. “Veratia,” Harry said, “we should find a place for you. You’re not a Hogwarts student anymore—you can’t stay in our dorm.”
“It’s the holidays,” Veratia said with a teasing smile. “What’s wrong with staying in your dorm?”
“No way,” Harry said quickly. “Ron and Seamus are here. They didn’t go ho—so family issues, apparently.”
“Ron? Seamus?” Veratia asked, intrigued. “You haven’t told about your friends. A few years at Hogwarts—you must’ve made new ones, right?”
Her tone was deceptively curious, and Harry fell for it, thinking she was genuinely interested. “Oh, Ron and Seamus are my dormmates, along with Neville,” he said with a grin. “We also hang out with Hermione, but…”
“But what?” Veratia asked, smiling.
Harry leaned in and whispered, “I think Hermione fancies Ron, and Ron likes her too. But she’s always bossing him around, and he’s a bit scared of her. Neither will admit they like each other—they just bicker constantly.”
“Really? That’s a thing?” Veratia’s smile widened, her eyes sparkling with amusent. “Why does that sound so familiar?”
“Does it?” Harry racked his brain but couldn’t think of anyone with a similar dynamic.
“Of course,” Veratia said.
“Who?” Harry asked eagerly.
Veratia gave him a look reserved for lovable idiots. “I’m not telling you.”
Harry huffed, turning away with a mock scowl.
“Haha!” Veratia reached out, cradling his face and ruffling his ssy hair. “Still feels as good as ever—I haven’t rua’d you at this age before.”
“Really?” Harry blushed.
Veratia flicked his forehead lightly. “Speaking of, what about Cassandra? Any news of her?”
“No,” Harry said honestly. “I only saw a letter Trelawney wrote to her—you know, the seer, Cassandra Trelawney.”
He recited the letter’s contents verbatim.
Veratia fell silent.
“I can imagine how hard that letter hit her,” she said softly. “Back then, I tried convincing her to join in the ti seal… but she scoffed, saying she didn’t want to chase after so unrelated boy. Yet, Harry, the truth is, she cared about you more than anyone.”
“Really?” Harry’s voice trembled.
“Of course.” Veratia ruffled his hair again. “Trust , I know Cassandra better than anyone.”
She stood slowly. “I’ve rested enough. Let’s go. Since your dorm’s off-limits, how about the Leaky Cauldron? Fiona!”
Fiona, sensing her master’s call, fluttered to Veratia’s shoulder.
But as Veratia grabbed Harry’s arm, she fell silent for a long mont.
“What’s wrong?” Harry asked, concerned.
“I think…” Veratia’s voice was faint, “I… I’ve lost my magic.”
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