บท 319: She is Here!
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"Master," Basi suddenly said, his tone firmer than usual, "you should lie down."
Harry blinked, disoriented, and only then noticed the clammy dampness on his forehead and the way his hand trembled faintly as he pulled it away from the ring. His shirt clung to him, soaked through with sweat. "Did that... drain all my energy?"
"Yes," Basi replied, eyes narrowing with concern. "It took a great deal of magic to unravel a curse so deeply entrenched. You have done well, but you must rest."
Harry barely managed a nod, sinking to the stone floor and resting his back against the nearest pillar. His head spun, but he took deep breaths.
"Guess I underestimated what it would take," he muttered. The sheer force required to tap into the wards and cleanse them had felt like fighting against a river current. He closed his eyes, letting the cold stone beneath him pull away some of the lingering exhaustion.
"What was that other thing?" he murmured, almost to himself, the memory of it nagging at him.
Basi's voice broke into his thoughts. "It is not unusual for the wards to be complex, Master. The Founders designed Hogwarts to defend itself against threats and to safeguard the future they envisioned. Perhaps this... trace is simply another part of that vision. Though, it is curious."
Harry shifted slightly, eyes narrowing at Basi's words. "It didn't feel like a spell or a protective charm, though," he said, thinking it over. "It felt... I don't know, like something woven into the school's foundation, but without any clear purpose."
Basi tilted his head thoughtfully, his massive body coiled with calm patience. "Then perhaps it is not a spell, but rather an intention left behind by the Founders themselves. They did not build Hogwarts with only one goal in mind. Some aspects of the wards could exist for reasons beyond our understanding, beyond even theirs. Some things must simply remain as they are—part of the castle's spirit, if you will."
Harry pushed himself off the cold stone floor, feeling the ache in his muscles as he steadied himself. "Maybe," he replied to Basi's thoughtful words, rubbing his eyes. "I'll go back to my room and get some proper rest. Thanks for your help, Basi. I'll be back before the term ends."
The basilisk inclined his head, watching as Harry made his way toward the Chamber's exit. "As you wish, Master," Basi said, his voice calm. "Rest well, and may your path be clear."
Harry nodded in acknowledgment before stepping into the passageway that led back up to the castle. When he finally reached the staircase leading up to the castle's main levels, he adjusted his cloak, keeping his steps quiet. The dungeons were empty, the corridors silent save for the soft creak of old wood and stone.
Over the next few days, Harry pushed through his last exams, maintaining his usual top scores, though he shared a few with Hermione, Daphne, and Neville. The entire year had been intense, especially with the extra hours spent studying Salazar's journal and Rowena's maddeningly cryptic notes.
The day before the break, he was gathering his notes and thinking about heading back to the dorm for a well-earned nap when —a metal card flickered in his pocket. He read the message that appeared on its surface: Sir, Bellatrix has resurfaced. Meet at the usual spot. It may be your only chance.
Harry's expression darkened as he read the message from Avery. If Bellatrix had really resurfaced, there was no room for delay. He didn't trust Avery completely, but if this was a real lead, it could be his only shot. Without hesitation, he slipped his cloak over his head, vanishing into the empty corridor as he made his way to one of the hidden paths leading out of the castle.
Reaching Hogsmeade, he Disapparated the second he stepped out of sight, landing in Diagon Alley within moments. He stayed cloaked, his eyes scanning the bustling street for any sign of unusual activity. Not only was he worried this might be a trap on dark side, but also on light side. His last brush with Dumbledore had been too close for comfort, and he wasn't about to make the same mistake twice.
The crowd in Diagon Alley was a mix of early holiday shoppers, and while they looked ordinary, Harry wasn't about to take any chances. Carefully, he edged toward the entrance of Knockturn Alley, pausing every few steps to glance around, making sure there were no hidden threats lurking in the shadows—or worse, any familiar faces from the Order.
Satisfied that no one was tailing him, he slipped into the darker, narrower alleyway, noting the change in atmosphere immediately. Gone were the lively chatter and bright storefronts; here, everything was shrouded in a shadowy hush, with shopkeepers eyeing each other warily as they tended to their businesses.
Finally, he reached the grimy alley and spotted Avery pacing near the far wall. Under his cloak, Harry paused, taking a quick look around. He noted the wards first—standard alert spells, nothing too elaborate, and only a faint layer over the area. For a moment, he stepped into the Astral Dimension, scanning the area for any hidden figures or concealed spells. Nothing. It seemed Avery had come alone.
Satisfied, Harry moved forward, slipping behind Avery and letting the cloak dissolve back into his pocket in one smooth motion. His wand was at Avery's back before the man had a chance to react.
"Speak," Harry ordered, his voice low but pointed.
Avery stiffened, his hand reflexively twitching toward his pocket, but he froze when he felt the wand digging into his back. "Sir Riddle," he said, his tone wary but edged with relief. "You made it."
"Save it," Harry replied. "Bellatrix. Where?"
Avery's eyes darted around the alley, his nervous energy barely contained. "In the pub, the one Carrows run," he said quickly, his voice low. "She's gathering old loyals."
Harry's frown deepened. "What for?"
Avery gulped, clearly uncomfortable. "She said they'll bring the Lord back."
Harry's gaze narrowed. He took a step forward, invading Avery's personal space, and without a word, pushed his mind into the man's. Avery's thoughts were chaotic, but Harry was practiced enough to sift through them. He focused, digging into Avery's memories.
Bellatrix… the Carrows… a few familiar faces—Lucius Malfoy, Goyle, Crabbe, Nott...
"Too crowded," Harry muttered under his breath. His thoughts immediately went cold. It wasn't the kind of environment where he could just waltz in, not with all those Death Eaters around. If Bellatrix had been alone, he could have tried to talk to her. But now, with all the others… it was far too risky.
Harry stepped back, breaking the connection from Avery's mind. As he mulled over his next move, he caught a figure in the corner of his eye. The man was walking with his head low, collar pulled up, and shoulders hunched as if he wanted to shrink from sight. A slow grin spread across Harry's face as he recognized the man.
Sliding out of the alley, he casually wandered in Mundungus' direction, making his presence look completely unintentional. At the last second, he veered into his path, causing the man to bump directly into him.
"Mr. Riddle!" Mundungus exclaimed, looking up in surprise, his eyes widening as he recognized Harry. "Didn't expect to see you here…"
Harry tilted his head. "I might say the same to you, Mr. Fletcher. You're looking rather... shifty."
"Me? Shifty? Nah, just, uh, out and about for a bit of business," Mundungus mumbled, his eyes darting nervously down the alley. Harry gave him a measured look, then raised an eyebrow.
"Business in Knockturn Alley? Sounds lucrative." Harry asked, interested.
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