Chapitre 12: Chapter 9: A New Beginning
The next few days at **Howler Manor** passed in a blur. Saber found himself busy planning the much-needed renovations for the house. After walking through the entire property, he knew it would take a lot of work to bring the manor up to modern standards, but the challenge excited him. The worn tapestries, old wooden paneling, and aging fixtures could be restored or replaced, but it was clear that he was living in a house filled with history—a history he had only just begun to understand.
Saber stood in the entrance hall, staring up at the grand staircase that led to the upper floors. It creaked with age, but it was solid—just like the rest of the house. The thought of breathing new life into it filled him with purpose. He had been through so much already, and now, for the first time, he had a place he could truly call his own. A place to rebuild.
Patch was by his side, his optics glowing as he watched Saber's every move. The little bot had grown more energetic since their arrival, darting through the hallways with excitement as he explored every corner of the house. Tempest, meanwhile, remained in the garage, quiet and still, ready to respond at a moment's notice if Saber needed him.
But even as Saber focused on his plans for the manor, a sense of unease lingered in the back of his mind. The inheritance test had revealed far more than he had ever expected, and the weight of those revelations still pressed on him. He couldn't stop thinking about the Malfoy family—his godparents. What did they think of him now that they knew the truth? Were they plotting to use him for their own ends, or were they genuine in their role as his family?
And then there was Dumbledore.
Saber clenched his fists at the thought of the man who had controlled his life from the very beginning. All the lies, all the manipulation—it was hard to believe how much Dumbledore had hidden from him. The thought that Dumbledore had allowed him to suffer under the Dursleys, all while keeping his true heritage a secret, made his blood boil.
"Why?" Saber muttered under his breath. "Why did he do it?"
Patch let out a soft, concerned beep, nudging Saber's leg with his nose. Saber smiled faintly and crouched down to pet the little bot's head.
"I'm fine," Saber said softly. "I just... have a lot to think about."
Deciding that now was as good a time as any to sit down and try to unravel more of his complicated past, Saber made his way back to the dining room, where he had left the stack of inheritance papers from Gringotts. He hadn't had the time—or the clarity—to truly go through all of the information when he first received it. Now, with the house quiet around him and Patch curled up at his feet, he carefully unfolded the papers once again.
As he scanned through the familiar lines, his eyes landed on the titles that had caused him so much confusion the first time he had read them.
---
**Titles**:
- Young Prince of the Wizarding World
- Lord of Magic
- Crowned Prince of Hogwarts
- Young Prince of Pendragon
- Child Loved by Dragons
- Child Loved by Gods
---
Saber's brow furrowed as his eyes locked onto two specific titles: **Young Prince of Pendragon** and **Crowned Prince of Hogwarts**. For a moment, he felt a surge of pride at the titles, but then a realization began to creep into his mind.
*Young Prince of Pendragon*—not Crown Prince.
That could only mean one thing: there was another, **older** member of the Pendragon family alive. Someone who had been hidden from him just as his own heritage had been.
His heart quickened as he thought about it. Dumbledore had not only hidden his own lineage, but there was someone else. An older, more prominent member of his family who held the title of **Crown Prince of the Dragon Royal Family**. This wasn't just about him—it was about a larger legacy, one he had no idea he was part of until recently.
Saber's thoughts raced. If this other Pendragon still existed, where were they? Why hadn't they been part of his life?
The idea that someone else had been hidden from him made him feel both frustrated and curious. He knew about the Pendragon legacy in vague terms from books at Hogwarts, though nothing had ever been taught formally. From what he'd read, the **Pendragon Palace**—the ancestral home of the royal family—was said to be located on **Rhode Island**, on the **Island of Dragons**. The island was whispered about in stories, where magical creatures like dragons were said to roam freely, protected by ancient wards and magic.
Saber leaned back in his chair, running a hand through his hair. This was no coincidence. His family—his **real** family—had been tied to this palace for centuries, and now, with the mention of a Crown Prince, there was a possibility that he had a living relative out there, one who might be tied to the Island of Dragons.
It was overwhelming. After years of believing he was alone, with no living relatives left, he now had the potential to be part of something far greater. The thought was exhilarating but also terrifying. What would he do if he met this other Pendragon? Would they accept him, or had they been part of the same conspiracy that had kept him in the dark for so long?
Saber's hands tightened around the edges of the parchment as he made a silent decision. He had to find out the truth about this other Pendragon—the **Crown Prince**. If there was a living relative out there, he deserved to know why he had been hidden, why Dumbledore had kept everything from him.
Rhode Island. The Island of Dragons. That was where his answers might lie.
But for now, he would need to focus on the immediate future. First, he had to stabilize his life at Howler Manor. Then, he would figure out how to uncover the secrets that Dumbledore and others had worked so hard to bury.
---
A knock at the door pulled him from his thoughts. He hadn't been expecting anyone, and his heart raced slightly as he moved toward the front door. Patch followed closely behind, his ears perking up at the sound.
When Saber opened the door, he was surprised to find Sam Witwicky standing on the front steps, his hands shoved into his pockets and a wide grin on his face.
"Hey, Saber!" Sam said, his voice full of energy. "Just thought I'd drop by and see how things are going. My dad wanted to come too, but, uh, he's stuck working on a project in the garage."
Saber smiled, grateful for the distraction from his heavier thoughts. "Hey, Sam. Things are going well. Just trying to figure out how to bring this place into the twenty-first century."
Sam chuckled, peering over Saber's shoulder at the grand, but clearly aging, interior. "Yeah, I can see what you mean. It's got that whole 'old wizard castle' vibe, but it could definitely use an upgrade."
Saber nodded, stepping aside to let Sam in. "I was just making a list of things that need fixing. It's a lot, but I think it'll be worth it."
Sam looked around the entrance hall, his eyes wide with curiosity. "Man, I can't believe you live here. This place is insane. I've always wondered what it looked like on the inside. So, how's everything going with moving in? You settling in okay?"
"Yeah, for the most part," Saber said, shrugging. "It's been a big change, but I'm getting used to it. Just trying to figure out what to do next."
Sam gave a sympathetic nod, clearly not pressing for more information. "Well, if you need help with anything, let me know. My dad's pretty good with repairs, and I'm not bad with, you know, small stuff. Just say the word."
"I appreciate it," Saber said with a smile. "It's been nice having you guys nearby. I'm not exactly used to having neighbors."
They chatted for a while longer, mostly about the house and the quiet neighborhood, before Sam had to head back. As Saber closed the door behind him, he felt a little lighter. Sam's friendly nature was a welcome break from the heaviness of everything else. For a moment, it felt like life was normal again.
But as the door clicked shut, Saber's thoughts returned to the weight of his inheritance and the secrets surrounding his past.
---
Meanwhile, in **Malfoy Manor**, the atmosphere was tense.
Voldemort had left the room not long ago, his orders clear. The Malfoy family was to keep an eye on Saber's movements and carefully approach him when the time was right. But the gravity of the situation had left them all on edge.
Lucius stood by the fireplace, his face unreadable as he stared into the crackling flames. Narcissa sat in the armchair near the window, her hands clasped tightly in her lap. Draco, who had been pacing the room since Voldemort's departure, finally stopped and looked at his parents.
"What do we do now?" Draco asked, his voice tight with uncertainty.
Lucius turned slowly to face his son, his eyes cold and calculating. "We wait," he said simply. "The Dark Lord has given us our orders. We will observe Saber from a distance until the time is right."
Draco frowned, his unease growing. "And when is that? How long do we wait before we do something?"
Narcissa glanced up at her son, her expression softening. "We cannot rush this, Draco. Saber is vulnerable right now. He has just discovered the truth about his heritage, and his world has been turned upside down. If we approach him too soon, we may push him away."
Draco sighed, running a hand through his hair. "I know, but... I've spent years thinking Potter was the enemy. Now I find out he's our godson, and we're just supposed to sit back and wait?"
Lucius's voice was sharp as he responded. "This is not about your past grievances with him. This is about the future. Saber Howler is no longer Harry Potter. He is the heir to a powerful bloodline, and if we can gain his trust, he will be a valuable ally."
Draco nodded, though the weight of the situation still pressed heavily on him. He had grown up seeing Harry Potter as a rival, an enemy—but Saber was someone different. Someone he barely knew, despite their years at Hogwarts. And now, everything had changed.
Narcissa stood, walking over to her son and placing a gentle hand on his shoulder. "We will reach out to him when the time is right. But for now, we must be patient. He will come to us in his own time."
Draco met his mother's gaze and nodded. "I just hope we don't wait too long."
---
Far away, **Dumbledore** sat in his office at Hogwarts, his sharp eyes scanning over several documents. He had felt a shift in the magical currents—something significant had happened, though he wasn't sure what it was yet.
The twinkle in his eyes dimmed slightly as he stared into the distance. His plans had been unfolding for years, carefully constructed to ensure the outcome he desired. But something was changing, and it was making him uneasy.
He reached for his wand, casting a quick spell to check the wards he had placed around Harry Potter's home, but something was wrong. The wards were weakening—dissolving, even.
Dumbledore's grip on his wand tightened. Harry was no longer at Privet Drive.
"Where are you, Harry?" he murmured to himself, his voice low.
For the first time in years, Dumbledore felt the stirrings of uncertainty.
État de l’alimentation hebdomadaire
-- Classement
Power Stone 
-- Power
stone