Chapter 3: A Traitor's Sacrifice

February 27th, 1933

The night sky over Berlin blazed like an infernal dragon, its roaring flames engulfing what had once been a beautiful building. Zelda moved stealthily through the cobbled streets, every step laden with a profound sense of dread coursing through her veins. Dark eyes, once alight with the thrill of discovery, now bore the weight of the horrors she had witnessed as an accomplice to dark forces. This fire was no different; it was a sinister act, a calculated move to destabilize both the Muggle and wizarding worlds.

The crackling flames of the German parliament cast eerie, dancing shadows in the surrounding alleys. Amid the chaos, Zelda's thoughts raced, each step taking her further from the life she had known. She was keenly aware that she was now a traitor, but tonight, none of that mattered; her sole purpose was clear.

As she reached the old station, Zelda breathed a sigh of relief. It was deserted, the city's residents having flocked to witness the Reichstag's destruction. Fortunately, Henry had been right.

Zelda surveyed the place, her heart pounding like a drum until her gaze landed on two figures approaching: one tall, the other diminutive.

"Were you followed?" the tall man inquired in hushed tones.

"I don't believe so. I was cautious," Zelda replied, kneeling to address the child who clutched the red book she had given her the night before. "We'll be home soon, and things will be different this time," she assured the little girl. "Have you been good with Uncle Henry?"

The child nodded, and Zelda smiled. She stood up and threw her arms around the man. "I can't thank you enough, Henry."

"Don't thank me until we're out of this wretched city," he cautioned, though gratitude still shone in his eyes. The stout, kindly man had traveled great distances, disguised as a Muggle, to help them escape.

The cargo steam locomotive in front of them was their ticket to freedom. Its rhythmic chugging echoed in the night, promising a journey to safety. Henry and Ada boarded first, and Zelda followed, her heart a jumble of emotions. As she stepped aboard the cargo carriage, a chilling shiver ran down her spine. The unmistakable sound of apparition echoed through the station. She knew that only very select individuals had been granted exceptions to the powerful anti-apparition charm that had gripped the entire city of Berlin.

Zelda's breathing stopped, and she dared to glance out the window. Her worst fears were confirmed as a slender man stood on the platform: his pale features bathed in an eerie, otherworldly light from the still visible Reichstag fire in the distance. Wand drawn at his side, he was unmistakable.

Zelda's gaze shifted to her daughter, her heart heavy yet resolute. "I have to face him," she told Henry, who wore a concerned expression.

"Together, then," he insisted.

"No," Zelda declared firmly. "He's only looking for me. If I face him, it may give you a chance to escape. You must take Ada to safety." She handed Henry a letter from her robes. "Please, give this to Seager when you return to England." Henry accepted the letter reluctantly, still not entirely convinced that this was the best option.

"Ada," Zelda whispered, kneeling before her daughter again and gripping her shoulders, her voice trembling with love.

"Please, Mum, you have to come with us!" the child implored, tears glistening in her blue eyes. Zelda was taken aback by the fierce determination in her daughter's gaze. In that moment, Ada seemed far older than her years, and Zelda regretted the burdens she had placed upon her. She couldn't deny that these were the consequences of her actions.

"Promise me you'll make better choices than I did and promise me you won't be swayed by what others may want from you, not even your father," Zelda tried to convey the depth of her emotions, struggling to find the right words. How could she explain such important matters to a child with so little time? How could she show Ada the right path? It was too late for her now.

Ada didn't respond, tears continuing to flow. But Zelda hoped that, in time, her daughter would understand. With a kiss on her tiny forehead, she turned away and disembarked from the train to confront the dark wizard.

That night, Zelda Velent, brave and resolute, made the ultimate sacrifice.

…….

September 2nd, 1943

Grindelwald's Reign of Terror Reaches British Shores!

Falmouth, renowned for its picturesque harbor and idyllic surroundings, was plunged into chaos and devastation as Grindelwald's forces unleashed a terrifying attack on both the muggle and wizarding communities of the coastal town. The once-tranquil streets echoed with screams of fear and anguish as dark clouds loomed ominously overhead.

Dozens of homes and businesses have been reduced to rubble. This marks Grindelwald's first direct assault on British soil. The Ministry of Magic, in collaboration with muggle authorities, is assessing the situation and providing aid to those affected. The international wizarding community calls for vigilance and unity in these perilous times.

Ada's eyes scanned the opening paragraphs of the Daily Prophet article that was resting on the Gryffindor table. Anxiously, she surveyed her fellow students, who appeared absorbed in their breakfast and early morning conversations about the day's classes. The Great Hall bathed in a serene, golden glow, a stark contrast to the tumultuous memories of the Sorting Ceremony that still lingered in Ada's mind from the previous night.

Despite her initial apprehensions about being the first Burke ever sorted into Gryffindor, Ada found solace in the cozy common room adorned with crimson and gold. It felt like a warm embrace, a sanctuary amid the chaos of the outside world.

Sitting beside her on the table were Robert Bailey and Emily Bones.

Robert, with his friendly grin, had welcomed her to Gryffindor and introduced her to their fellow sixth-year housemates. However, Ada couldn't help but feel uneasy about his Muggle-born heritage, as he was the first one she encountered in her entire life. Her grandparents had held strong biases against Muggle-borns, and those views had subtly influenced her upbringing.

Whenever she would stay with them at their house in Mittenwald, her grandmother would go on long tirades about how the Muggle-borns were overcrowding their mostly pureblood village and taking jobs from real wizards at the German Ministry of Magic. Her grandfather wholeheartedly believed that Muggles were using forbidden archaic blood rituals to steal magic from their ancestral families, resulting in the increasing number of squibs in their communities.

Ada had come to suspect that her grandparents' vision of the world was at the very least slightly inaccurate, and it was very conspiratorial to think Muggles and Muggle-borns were such malevolent entities. Nonetheless, it was sometimes hard to shake certain preconceptions she herself held, and she was uncertain how to reconcile these with the friendly face before her.

Now Emily, on the other hand, was a pureblood, albeit from a mid-tier family— as Ada's aunt would have called it. But this didn't seem to stop the red-headed girl from excelling at magic. Ada could tell that Emily was very studious and that she had a keen intellect, as she had been happy to share some valuable insights into navigating N.E.W.T. challenges. Her passion for her studies was evident, as she had been ready for the day by the time Ada woke up.

However, amidst the camaraderie and laughter of her new acquaintances that morning, a cloud of nervousness loomed over Ada as she glanced across the hall towards the Slytherin table. They hadn't spoken yet, but she was certain that Marie was disappointed that she had not joined their ranks. She had promised herself to face Marie today, but she needed to find the right moment, as right now Ada's mind was inundated with concerns.

The daunting N.E.W.T. level timetable weighed heavily on her—four classes were an extreme commitment that she had chosen to embrace on a moment of obvious insanity. Thoughts of her father were also never far from her mind. She kept wondering when she would see him again, if ever. And now, the newspaper article was yet another unsettling factor. She knew that Grindelwald would attack England this year; her father had declared it months ago. But it still made her tremble when she saw the headline on the magical newspaper, a stark reminder of the events that had shaken her world a decade ago.

After breakfast, Ada slipped away from her classmates, retreating to her dormitory. In the quiet solitude, she retrieved the ruby tome from her trunk—the one her mother had given her. The book, bound in exquisite leather, was magically locked, its contents hidden from any prying eyes. Ada's fingertips traced the silver patterns on the cover as she recalled her mother's words, spoken with a tender smile. "You won't be able to open it until your seventeenth birthday, but when the time comes, I hope it guides you."

Unlike her mother's face, which had faded from her memory without any surviving photographs, Ada clung to those words. She hoped that inside the book, among its hidden treasures, she might discover something more.

With renewed determination, Ada decided to attempt unlocking it once more. Previous attempts had ended in failure, but today felt different. She still had a couple of hours before her first class and a whole library at her disposal that she could scour for information on protective charms and how to counteract them.

Ada's resolution was final as she rose from her bed.

…….

The hallowed halls of the Hogwarts library teemed with life, an enchanted haven for students seeking knowledge. Flying books darted through the passages between towering shelves, a spectacle that both amused and startled Ada. Lost in the whimsical spectacle, she was momentarily distracted as she crashed into something hard.

"Oh no, I'm terribly sorry," she exclaimed, quickly realizing that she had bumped into a person and sent their book tumbling to the floor. With a swift and apologetic gesture, she bent down to retrieve it. The title, Unforgivable Curses and Their Legal Implications, captured her attention. "Oh, that's quite a curious read," she muttered, her gaze fixed on the volume in her hands.

"Perhaps I'm considering wizarding law as a career path," a velvety voice responded with amusement, snapping her attention away from the book.

Before her stood a striking young man, his dark, neatly combed curls framing a face of unnerving handsomeness, almost as if it had been sculpted from marble, reminiscent of the Greek statues she had admired on her travels with her father. Dark green eyes peered curiously down at her, and Ada realized she had been staring. She needed to regain her composure quickly.

"That seems like a waste," she blurted out, then winced at her words, fearing they could easily be misconstrued. Blushing profusely, she rushed to clarify, "I mean, pursuing wizarding law as a career. It's a rather preposterous notion for any wizard, don't you think?"

He arched an eyebrow, his amusement evident. "And why is that?"

"You don't need magic to practice law; it's an absurd Muggle concept."

"Then you believe law has no place in our society?" he countered swiftly, a hint of teasing in his tone.

Ada's response was swift, her frustration bubbling to the surface. "No, that's not what I mean. Of course, we need laws..." She hesitated, aware that he was leading her into a verbal trap. Before she could continue her thought, he interjected.

"Then perhaps we could simply hire Muggle lawyers to govern our Ministries and advise us on the legal implications of using the Cruciatus curse."

Ada's expression hardened, suddenly feeling very flustered. He was undoubtedly poking fun at her. "Perhaps we could also hire a Muggle tailor to sew up your sense of humor," she retorted with a raised eyebrow, roughly pushing the tome into his chest before striding away. Her heart raced for reasons she couldn't quite fathom, and her purpose in the library was momentarily forgotten.

When she finally recalled her goal, she glanced at the golden letters engraved on the shelves and headed straight for the "C" section, searching for books on protective charms. After perusing the titles, she selected a few and settled at a study table.

Minutes passed, but Ada's thoughts remained unruly. She had probably read the table of contents about a hundred times. Ada found herself unable to shake the memory of her recent encounter. His words, laced with mockery, echoed in her mind, and his striking presence seemed etched in her thoughts.

Abandoning her reading, she glanced across the library, where she spotted the young man also sitting at a table, engrossed in his own reading. The soft morning light bathed his handsome features. Her curiosity piqued as he stood with perfect posture and proceeded to navigate the library's labyrinth of shelves with graceful ease. Ada watched as his fingers traced the spines of tomes, his eyes narrowing every time he found something interesting.

With a sigh of frustration, Ada shook her head, attempting to dispel her inexplicable fixation with this stranger. Returning her gaze to her book, she tried to regain her focus, but it continued to elude her, and her thoughts wandered back to the young man. Before she knew it, their eyes met, and Ada's heart plummeted. She had been caught in the act of staring.

…….

Anticipation hummed through the classroom as Professor Slughorn readied himself to introduce the sixth-year students to the N.E.W.T. level potions curriculum, and the chalkboard behind Slughorn's round figure was magically coming alive with intricate, chalk inscriptions. Tom had claimed his usual seat at the rear of the classroom, accompanied by Silas Dolohov. They were the only Slytherins who had attained the required grade in their O.W.L.s the previous term.

"Welcome, welcome, my dear students!" Slughorn boomed, a jovial glint in his eye. "Today, we embark on a journey of discovery and mastery. The N.E.W.T. level potions course will challenge your abilities, but the rewards will be well worth the effort."

Tom's gaze remained fixed on the professor, his demeanor dutifully attentive. His thoughts, however, circled back to the encounter he'd had with Ada Burke in the library earlier that day.

It had been after his third year that Tom noticed people constantly looking at him. Girls, in particular, would often sneak flirtatious glances when they believed he wasn't watching. By now, he was acutely aware of the impact his physical appearance had on others, so it was no surprise that Ada's attention had lingered on him after their brief exchange. He could also tell that his words had caught her off guard, as the girl had walked away flustered. Tom couldn't help but relish in her reaction; he had always enjoyed making people lose control of their emotions, and Burke had proven an easy target. Yet, he couldn't deny that their initial encounter had not gone as planned.

Rafe had yet to provide him with further information; he had written to his elder brother Leon, who worked as an assistant to the Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot. As such he could request access to the investigation documents from the two court cases against Seager Burke and Zelda Velent. Tom had intended to wait until he had these details to craft a calculated introduction, but the foolish girl had bumped into him unexpectedly.

Briefly, Tom's eyes darted towards the girl, who occupied a front-row seat. He noticed her soft locks cascading down her back, secured partially by a scarlet bow that matched her new house robes. She sat with her back relaxed against the chair, though beneath the table, he spotted her leg trembling as her foot tapped rapidly against the floor. It was evident she felt uneasy, and he took note of her fidgeting behavior.

As the lecture continued, Slughorn's voice reclaimed Tom's attention at the mention Amortentia, the potion they were tasked with brewing for their first class. Tom observed, with disdain, a couple of Ravenclaw girls who stifled giggles at the mention of the love draught. Hastily, he took out his copy of Advanced Potion-Making, the newest textbook that had just been released this year and had quickly garnered acclaim for its comprehensive collection of advanced recipes.

"Now, listen here" Slughorn continued as he circled the simmering cauldrons. "As many of you know, this potion is very potent. A single sip can inspire the deepest and most irrational infatuation. And please refrain from sampling your own concoctions, though I must confess, it would make for quite the entertaining spectacle," He halted next to Tom and Silas's shared table, casting an assessing eye over their cauldrons. "What say you, my boy?" he directed the words at Tom, brimming with enthusiasm at his own joke.

Tom concealed his desire to sneer at Slughorn's feeble attempt at humor. Instead, he graced him with a pleasant smile and responded, "Indeed, Professor, that sounds like a recipe for disaster."

Satisfied with Tom's acknowledgement, Slughorn continued to provide detailed instructions on the brewing process as the students worked against the clock, underscoring the significance of precision and patience. Tom found himself increasingly disinterested, he was the first to complete the potion of course, and to add to his annoyance, it wasn't Silas who claimed the second spot but the Burke girl. Slughorn beamed at her, and even awarded points to Gryffindor. Tom turned to Silas, who was stirring the brown liquid in his cauldron with growing agitation. "What's taking you so long?"

"I can't get it to turn pink!" Silas exclaimed through gritted teeth, a droplet of sweat trickling down his forehead. "I don't understand; I followed the instructions! It's this stupid new book, it must be!"

Tom rolled his eyes at the boy's pitiful excuses. Although the truth was, he had read the instructions detailed in the textbook and spotted areas for improvement, adjustments that he had incorporated to his own brewing process. For instance, adding the moonstone powder with the rose petals at the exact same time counteracted the latter's acidity more rapidly. Yet, he had no intention of sharing such insights with Dolohov, because he would certainly use it to justify his ineptitude.

The session eventually drew to a close, and Tom was eager to retrieve his belongings and depart the from the classroom. However, before he could even stand up from his seat, Slughorn cleared his throat. "Ah, Miss Burke," he said, catching Tom's attention. "A word, if you please."

Tom watched as the girl made her way to the professor's desk, her face betraying a hint of hesitation. Slughorn's signature proud smile wavered slightly as she approached him, and Tom couldn't help but wonder about his peculiar demeanor. Making a swift decision, he subtly took out his wand, partially hidden by the sleeve of his robes. "Ascultatio" he whispered softly as he kneeled, pretending to have drop something underneath the table.

"Miss Burke, it's a delight to encounter a student with such an evident talent for Potions." Slughorn began, though his tone seemed uncertain, perceptible even through Tom's eavesdropping charm.

'Thank you, professor," she replied, her voice tinged with shyness.

"You know, I had the pleasure of knowing your mother during her brief tenure at Hogwarts. She possessed a brilliant mind for potions, much like her daughter," he remarked, his tone bittersweet, and Tom noticed her breathing stopped momentarily. "I was deeply saddened to hear of her passing… The path she chose in the end was unfortunate, and it undoubtedly led to her demise."

As Tom collected his belongings with deliberate leisure, he allowed himself a fleeting look in their direction. He noticed an odd expression on the girl's face, her lower lip quivering momentarily, leaving Tom to wonder if she was either on the verge of tears or perhaps contemplating the possibility of telling Slughorn off. However, the girl swiftly regained her composure. With a smile on her face, she expressed gratitude for Slughorn's condolences and took her leave.

As she exited the classroom, her eyes met his once more, and this time, she didn't look away.