Chapter 68: Chapter 68: The Blackest Night
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14 August 1992, Diagon Alley
Harry was thankful for it because all he could feel was disappointment. He had lost the Diary and the students of Hogwarts were going to pay for it.
He had failed. Ginny Weasley did not have the diary. From now on, he couldn't rely on the stories, and for the first time, Harry dreaded his return to Hogwarts.
The Potter scion sat in his usual spot in the Leaky Cauldron, in his adult form, contemplating his failure in procuring the diary, as well as the consequences of that failure. Almost two weeks later, and the detail still eluded him on exactly what happened to it. Most likely Lucius Malfoy did end up involved in putting away the diary. The altercation at Flourish and Blotts just wasn't something that someone that's currently at the helm of a third of the Wizengamot, opposing Albus Dumbledore himself, would do.
The story had even been published in the Daily Prophet. It was in a small article at the end of the paper that pretty much only said that a physical fight happened and that Arthur Weasley was the instigator. The Malfoy family is a very old one, and surprisingly secretive. Its founder was the bastard son of Henry the First, whose mother was a skilled sorceress. He was quite skilled, but after his father's death, he attempted to usurp his trueborn brother's throne, unsuccessfully. He was then banished from France and cursed with a name that branded his betrayal. Malfoy came from Male Foi, which means Bad Faith in French.
When he joined William I in his conquest of England, acting as his personal spymaster, he was granted a lordship and a prime piece of land in Wiltshire, starting the rise of the Malfoy family. Not much is known about their family magics, other than it exists – they have magical crests – and that it isn't displayed openly. Of course, after the Statute of Secrecy, they lost their land, but their influence in magical society over centuries did grant them a spot in the Wizengamot. Malfoys often choose to focus on the realm of politics and Lucius Malfoy followed his ancestor's footsteps.
And so, someone of the Malfoy patriarch's reputation and prestige wasn't supposed to publicly get into physical fights, hence why it was probably planned. Lucius Malfoy was definitely involved in the Diary being given away, but Harry did not notice him doing anything. The only thing he had touched was the Weasley girl's cauldron, and there wasn't a diary there.
It was a mystery that just wouldn't be solved. Oh, how he wished he had a pensive. It would have been very useful, but alas they were very rare, and probably cost as much as whatever remained of his family fortune. No matter what crackpots like to say, Occlumency did not grant perfect memory. In fact, perfect memory retention was still being debated in both the magical and the muggle worlds.
Memory is not like a perfect recording device that captures and stores every detail of our experiences. Instead, it involves encoding, storing, and retrieving information, and it can be subject to biases, distortions, and forgetting over time. Our memories are also influenced by factors like attention, emotional significance, and personal interpretation. Of course, there are memory prodigies, with very good recall, but even then, it tends to be more domain specific than universally flawless and comprehensive memory retention.
What a pensive does is analyse memories and scry for the rest of the details. Sometimes they're faulty, especially if a place is warded specifically against that kind of magic, or they can be modified by outside sources, which was why memories really weren't admissible in any magical court. They were too subjective and unpredictable for it to work.
Still, Harry didn't sense any unusual magic to stop scrying. Not that it meant much; the diary had somehow eluded his Arcane Hearing, something that he had no idea how. His Arcane Hearing was an interpretation of the magic around him. You needed to alter the very magic of something to hide its nature. A few concealing wards did that, but the fact that it was anchored to an artefact and that the magical camouflage was able to adapt in real time, was something Harry had never heard of. The fact that an Adolescent Tom Riddle was able to do it was very impressive and disturbing. It definitely raised his threat level by a few notches.
Alas, there was nothing he could do about the diary now. He was at a dead end, and his next chance would be at the Hogwarts Express when the diary first crosses the wards. The shock would hopefully disrupt the concealing enchantment, and Harry would be able to find it.
But in the event that he fails, he needs to figure out a way to survive the Basilisk, or whatever else was in the chamber. That's not mentioning the Riddle shade. He needed to figure out how to survive the Basilisk's glare, before even thinking about anything else. It was too dangerous for him.
But what was the basilisk glare in the first place? How did it work? Harry needed a way to neutralize it and to do so, he needed to understand it. According to the stories indirect eye contact with a basilisk caused petrification, not instant death. Harry sincerely hoped that it was still the case, especially for the sake of the children at Hogwarts. Yeah, petrification was preferable to death.
Assuming that it was the case, then the basilisk's sight can be distorted by reflections, weakening it. However, the interesting thing was the eye contact. If it was some sort of magical invisible killing beam, then meeting its eyes wouldn't have mattered. Honestly, it reminded Harry eerily of Legilimency. A powerful and unrestrained mental attack in a single burst could explain the instance of death, and how it can be weakened with reflections. But it wouldn't really explain the petrification when looking indirectly. They weren't mental, according to the stories, people were physically petrified and needed a Mandrake draught to go back to normal. However, one saying remained in Harry's mind. The eyes were the windows to the soul. Was a basilisk's glare use some sort of soul magic attack?
It would make sense, but if that was the case, it would be very bad news. Soul magic was known to be undocumented, and even then, the texts that remained were very forbidden. Harry sincerely hoped that this theory was wrong.
Harry let out a deep sigh. What he would give to just leave this place behind and go to another school. He would miss his friends, but at least he would be safe from the insanity that was magical Britain. Alas, with him being technically a ward of the ministry, he needed their permission to change schools, and well, considering how patriotic and proud British wizards were, that was very unlikely. It might even get people asking questions about his guardians and his place of residence, something that he was hoping to avoid as much as possible. He was not ready to risk his freedom for a very faint hope of leaving the country. Maybe after getting his OWLs, he could apply for early emancipation and leave this place but that was years away, so he was stuck with the perilous environment that is Hogwarts' School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.
The Potter scion was so preoccupied with his thoughts, that he didn't notice someone sitting next to him, "Well, what would make someone as young as you have such deep thoughts, Mr. Potter."
Harry stiffened and looked at the man who had sat down, only to be faced with a pair of sharp, yet amused, penetrating steel grey eyes. The man sitting next to him was fairly old. He felt like he was a soldier of some sort, even if he didn't really have any scars. He had this air to him, this aura. His magic was very well controlled, but Harry could tell with his Arcane Hearing that its nature was mostly destructive. This was a man to be wary of, that was for sure.
Then he registered what the man said. He didn't use his last name in his adult form. How had the man known, "I'm afraid that my name is Evans, Harry Evans. You must be mistaken, Mr.…"
The man let out a shark like smile and answered, "Arcturus Orion Black. And I am not mistaken. You might be able to fool most people, but this ageing potion makes it even more obvious to anyone who knew your father. I can even see my sister Dorea's cheekbones and nose somewhere. Don't try to deny it, you look like a small clone of my nephew."
Harry stiffened. To be perfectly honest, he didn't know what to do with the situation before him. He hadn't really researched the Black family much, since most of them were either dead or in Azkaban, and from their reputation, he should try to avoid them as much as possible. But he knew that they were powerful, magically and politically. He couldn't really risk the ire of a family like that, especially one who is famously known for its curses.
Choosing to just come clean instead of insulting the man's intelligence, the Potter scion raised his hand to shake the man's own, "Fine, Harry Potter. I'm happy to see you."
"Good, at least you're not an idiot," the Black Patriarch responded, "I didn't come here to argue with a child, even one that's doing a surprisingly good job at convincing the world that he's an adult. I've been looking for you all summer. I even went to that loathsome muggle family of yours."
Harry stiffened for a fraction of a second before relaxing, "Calling them family would be a stretch, to be honest."
The man burst into laughter, "You really scared the crap out of them. I could practically smell their fear the moment you were mentioned. I obliviated them, of course, but it wasn't a really pleasant experience. At least you came out alright."
"Why are you here?" Harry blurted out. Yeah, sue him, while he was scared out of his mind, he was still curious as to why the man was looking for him specifically when the magical world had forgotten about him for years. He also wanted to get straight to the subject and leave.
"Well, like it or not, you have as much Potter blood as you do Black blood. And as a member of my family, I just wanted to meet you," the elder man answered.
"No, that's not it. You could have tracked me down years ago. You came to see me after my time in Hogwarts."
The man snorted, "At least the reports on your intelligence aren't exaggerated. Yes, I didn't look for you before, because as far as I am concerned, you weren't my problem. You weren't advantageous. Until that is, you showed your prowess in your magical studies. You became useful and I am not the only one who's going to try to use that. I'm just being blatant about it and making sure that you get out of it as much as I do."
"Still, you didn't answer. Why are you here?"
"I was one of the most renowned experts in curses in my time, boy. I have held the Black family high and raised my family name to new heights. Of course, my foolish sons and grandchildren ruined it by supporting that damnable fake Dark Lord and destroying whatever remained of my legacy. I chose to step down and retire with my lovely wife, and while I do not regret it, I'm sad to see what my family had been turned to. The truth is, with most of my descendants either dead or in Azkaban, I need to find an heir. There are a few candidates that are suitable to be the next head of the Black family. You have proven your worth in Hogwarts and, I just had to see it for myself. I have to say, so far, I am not disappointed."
Harry's answer was simply gaping at what the man had just revealed.
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