Chapter 4: Hidden Intentions

September 7th, 1943

Henry Potter considered himself a calm and patient man. He prided himself on his serene disposition, which had served him well in both his political career and family life. After all, he had navigated challenging situations in both spheres with poise.

It seemed not so long ago when he had publicly condemned Evermonde's emergency legislation against Muggle aid during the First Muggle War. That had cost his family its reputation in the high circles of Pureblood society. Henry cared little for the Potter name being removed from that ridiculous list, as it's only purpose was to inflate the huge egos of its members. The notion of them considering themselves sacred was outrageous.

However, what did trouble him was the memory of his son's return from Hogwarts, covered in painful red boils that wouldn't heal. Fleamont had been cursed by a classmate, taking months to recover. The poor boy had spent the entire summer in the Janus Thickey Ward at St Mungo's; and what distressed Henry most were his son's sorrowful eyes. Fleamont had refused to name his attacker, strengthening Henry's suspicion that it had been his childhood friend, the Malfoy boy.

To think that someone could be corrupted at such an early age was heartbreaking. The idea that a child who had always been perfectly mannered during visits to their home could turn on his own best friend for reasons beyond their comprehension was baffling. After all, their young minds should have been so far removed from the politics of the adult world.

That incident had occurred nearly three decades ago, and yet Henry had lived so many more years, that by now, time had become nothing more than an illusion. Yet, he had never lost his composure not even when his only child had been attacked... Sometimes, he wondered if he should have.

Today, on a chilly autumn evening, almost as cloudy as his own eyes became over the past few years, Henry sat in his favorite wooden chair by an open window, his mind pondering over the past as the cold wind graced his hardened features. It seemed ever since he had lost his sight, his mind wouldn't let him be at peace.

Memories of his late wife consumed him daily, gripping his heart with an iron fist. He missed her soft smile, the first thing he saw every morning. Only Fleamont's regular visits helped alleviate the grief and loneliness that had enveloped him. But his son had grown into a busy businessman, making it a rare treat for him to visit the countryside.

His only other human companion was his sister-in-law, Irida, who had also been widowed. Henry had welcomed her to the main Potter property, but she preferred to keep to herself, sometimes isolating in the west wing of the manor for days on end. Irida mostly came out during the summer months when her teenage son returned from Hogwarts, and only then would she act with any sort of resemblance to the cheerful girl who had eloped with Henry's younger brother as soon as they had turned seventeen.

"Sir," he heard Cele call out in the distance, interrupting his thoughts. Henry had tried to free the house-elf upon inheriting his father's estate, but she had gone into terrible anguish, weeping for hours when he informed her of his decision. Henry had felt torn as he had thought he was doing what was right, yet she said she didn't want to part with the family where she was born and where her own mother had served, so Cele stayed.

Against her protests, Henry had decided on paying her a monthly wage and granting her freedom to come and go as she pleased. Yet, Cele remained magically bonded to him. He felt ashamed, realizing he wasn't much different from the families he had always disapproved of.

"SIR!" Cele cried out louder, her tone exasperated. "It's so windy outside; you will catch a cold." Henry detected a tiny and blurry shadow appear next to him and then immediately felt a soft fabric envelop him as she draped a blanket over him, shielding his frail body from the icy wind.

"What would a cold do to an old man like me, Cele?" he teased, circling his fingers around the hot cup of tea she placed in his hands. Henry relished in the warmth it provided.

"No good, Cele can bet you on that, sir," she replied, and Henry heard her closing the window and taking a seat next to him

"Suppose you are right," he said with a smile, sipping his tea. "This body is nowhere near as strong as it used to be. You might even find me dead on the loo one of these days."

"Cele doesn't like to hear that kind of talk! Master Henry still has many years left," her lofty voice filled with concern. "And Master Henry still has much business to attend to. Here, Cele brings a letter from the Minister himself."

Henry's eyebrows shot up so high that they almost blended with his grey hair. His hair that was so messy that his son had insisted on giving him packages upon packages of his renowned potion hoping he would use it, but they were now gathering dust on the cellar.

"Leonard wrote?" Henry asked, his curiosity piqued as he clumsily extended his hand towards the small silhouette next to him.

"Cele thinks it's a howler, Sir," Cele placed the envelope in his hand. The material was almost velvety, and Henry could smell on it a faint scent of cardamom and musk.

Impatiently, he tore it open, and a strong voice echoed through the room, hitting even the high ceilings.

"Henry, it pains me to do this, but I must request your presence at the Ministry. Please come tomorrow morning, Lena will be expecting you in my office at a quarter past six to take you to the Red Room. I'll set up the Floo. Don't let anybody see you."

His heart was beating fast. Henry had only been to the Red Room on two other occasions, and it had never been for any pleasant reasons. "Cele, please get me my wand. I need to send an urgent Patronus to my son."

……

September 10th, 1943

"Excellent work Miss Burke. Ten points to Gryffindor."

Ada's cheeks burned brightly at Professor Merrythought's praise, and she was relieved to be hidden from her classmates by the magical barrier that enclosed her.

That day in Defense Against the Dark Arts, they had been practicing the Cave Inimicum charm, which Ada had managed to achieve on what seemed to be her first try. Although the truth was that she had been honing this protective enchantment since she was thirteen, a skill her father had insisted she perfect, making her practice it for hours on end, even standing outside in the middle of the rain. "This spell is very important Adelaide, it might be your only barrier between life and death!" Seager Burked had drilled into her, often pushing her to tears of frustration and exhaustion.

Shaking off memories of her father's stern teachings, Ada focused on ending the spell with another swift wand movement.

"That's bloody brilliant!" Emily exclaimed, and unfortunately, her excitement drew Professor Merrythought's attention.

"Language, Miss Bones!" the professor scolded, her crooked nose crinkling. "For Merlin's sake, a lady should express herself more elegantly."

"Apologies, Professor." Emily replied, rolling her eyes discreetly the moment the old woman passed by them to examine other students' spell work near the front of the class. "How did you manage that, Ada?" she asked, bewildered.

"Oh, it's easy," Ada replied nonchalantly, though a mischievous smile betrayed her true feelings.

"You liar," Emily retorted, eyeing her friend closely. "You've done this before, haven't you?" She tucked a few stray locks of strawberry blonde hair behind her ears, and put up her wand with determination, saying the incantation repeatedly.

Ada's smile deepened, but she chose not to answer, in part because she wanted to tease Emily, but she also didn't want to reveal how she had learned the spell. It had only been her second week at Hogwarts, and she had carefully avoided discussing her family or the strange circumstances of her arrival at the school. Emily and Robert knew nothing about her past and Ada intended to keep it that way.

One Gryffindor boy, however, had eyed her with suspicion. Unwillingly, Ada's gaze wandered to the other side of the classroom, where he stood tall and thin, he was unmistakable. With his big hazel eyes that reminded her of someone from her past. Charlus Potter, distantly related through her mother's side, resembled his uncle, Henry, in a startling manner.

They had exchanged only brief greetings, but Ada was certain Charlus knew more about her than he let on. The Potters were well aware of the Velents' severe offenses, their families' ties were a dark secret buried beneath the carpet, and something that was never to be spoken about in the presence of other people.

Ada didn't know the specifics of what had driven a wedge between them, but she knew that her grandmother had despised her maiden surname with a passion. And when Zelda had married an Englishman, Helen Velent had sworn to disinherit her daughter, or so Ada was later told by her father. He had said that their union had broken Helga's heart, as it reminded her of her past… although Ada couldn't help to wonder if her heart had already been broken long before that.

Yet despite her grandmother's initial outrage, she couldn't maintain her hateful promise for too long, and so Ada often found herself spending her early summers in the German countryside, as her parents would disappear for full months at a stretch.

Throughout her early childhood, Ada believed that Helen was a full-blooded German witch. It wasn't until her mother secretly introduced her to Henry Potter that Ada began connecting the pieces.

"Don't look," Ada's gaze swiftly averted from Charlus at the sound of Emily's soft-spoken command. She felt ashamed, fearing her friend had noticed her strange demeanor. But Emily, too, was exhibiting some unusual behavior, she had abandoned her practice of the protective charm and was now feigning intense concentration on her textbook. "He's looking at you again. It's quite odd," Emily continued, her voice a barely audible whisper.

"What are you talking about?" Ada asked, her confusion clear in her voice. Although a better question would have been "who."

"Riddle," Emily said, and then immediately added, "I said don't look!" as Ada started to turn around to peer behind her. "He's been stealing glances at you all morning."

Ada's eyes narrowed at this. It didn't take long after their first encounter at the library for Ada to uncover the identity of the strange boy who had bumped into her. Or perhaps she had bumped into him? She didn't like to dwell on the encounter, as it always made her chest tighten with embarrassment.

Tom Riddle was a name known to everyone at school. It rolled off every teacher's tongue, always accompanied by a cascade of compliments. It was heard frequently in the hallways, especially when passing groups of impressionable younger girls. Boys from all years and houses pronounced it with a near-reverential tone after every dueling club meeting. It was even displayed in the trophy room, as Ada had discovered during her first detention after she had casted a leg-jittering curse on Leander Selwyn for mocking Robert's Muggle orthodontic appliance. Tom Riddle was undoubtedly Hogwarts' golden boy, making Ada feel even more self-conscious about her clumsy introduction, if it could even be called that.

"You're exaggerating," Ada dismissed Emily's claim, though she opened her book and pretended to scan it too, feeling foolish yet curious about her friend's thoughts. "I hardly know him. Why would he be looking at me?"

"I can't read minds, Ada, but I can tell you that he's been staring your way. I also noticed his eyes drifting over your things at breakfast when he came over to talk to Susan."

Ada had indeed spotted Riddle speaking with the Head Girl at the Gryffindor table. She also remembered carelessly leaving her bag open on the seat beside her. He had been nearby, but it would have been nearly impossible for him to read any of her book titles or see anything of importance. Besides, she didn't even carry anything unusual.

Against her better judgement, Ada closed her book in a rather abrupt way and spun around with resolve, preparing herself to meet his gaze, as she had done before. But Tom Riddle was no longer looking at her, or perhaps he had never been, and Emily was merely mistaken. He stood beside Professor Merrythought, looking as confident and handsome as ever, and encircled by expectant peers. With a graceful wave of his wand, he disappeared entirely, leaving the onlookers gasping… everyone except for Charlus Potter. Ada noticed he was looking rather irritated as he exited the circle of spectators. For a moment, his hazel eyes met Ada's, and she thought she saw a brief frown on his face.

"Absolutely splendid, Tom! Fifteen points to Slytherin!" Professor Merrythought exclaimed, clapping with excitement as Tom reappeared before everyone.

"Fifteen? That cow!" Emily muttered in a hushed tone, not wanting to risk another reprimand from the professor. "That's entirely unfair. You did it first, and you received only ten points."

"It's alright," Ada waved it off, pretending not to care, though she thought it was a tad unfair herself.

"No, it must certainly is not alright… that bloody hag simply wants to bonk him!"

Ada's eyes widened in shock, "Emily!" she exclaimed louder than intended, earning a few fleeting glances from students in the vicinity. Lowering her voice, she added, "That's outrageous! She must be a hundred years old, and she's a teacher."

But Emily remained unapologetic. "I stand by my words. You don't know her like I do, Ada. Hard work never gets you anywhere with that woman. She cares only about appearances. Hogwarts would be a better place if she quit already. Literally anyone else could teach this dreadful subject better."

After ranting off for a few more minutes, Emily went back to practicing the spell, eventually succeeding after a couple more attempts. Ada, on the other hand, spent the rest of the class sneaking glances at Riddle and ultimately feeling relieved that he hadn't looked her way again. Perhaps Emily had imagined it after all.

The moment Merrythought dismissed them, Ada hurriedly packed her belongings and left the classroom. She had a double Charms lesson next and was eager to speak with Professor Onai about her mother's book and how to break the charm placed upon it. Her visits to the library had proven fruitless, and she had been unable to talk to the Charms professor last week due to an emergency staff meeting that had cut their class short. The whole castle buzzed with theories about Grindelwald's latest attacks on the Scottish north coast.

With Emily by her side, Ada strolled through the castle until they had to part ways. Emily had decided not to take Charms for her N.E.W.T.s, even though she possessed the required qualifications. Ada found it a bit odd but didn't want to pry. Emily had respected her privacy, and Ada wanted to return the favor.

Ada entered the brightly lit classroom, flanked by a pair of long windows. Three rows of desks faced the teacher's table and two blackboards stood on each side. Robert sat in the middle row, and Ada headed straight for the desk next to him.

"How was Defense Against the Dark Arts?" he asked, not looking up from a curious dragon sketch he was doodling on his parchment.

"Let's just say Emily seemed prepared to duel Merrythought," she replied as she sat down and retrieved her Standard Book of Spells, Grade 6.

"Oh, so nothing out of the ordinary," Robert said, finally looking up at Ada, with a hint of amusement that danced in his forest green eyes. "Emily has always detested Merrythought since our first year. I think she's upset she can't charm her like she does the other professors."

"To be fair, Merrythought did appear rather charmed by Riddle," Ada said, recalling the additional points the professor had awarded the Slytherin boy.

"Yes, and that only adds fuel to the fire; Emily has some sort of ridiculous competition with Riddle. It drives her mad that he's so obviously talented, while she must study for hours just to consistently come in second place," Robert explained. He then muttered something that made the dragon he had drawn come to life, flying around the parchment. "Tom Riddle operates on an entirely different level, and Emily needs to accept that."

"That's wicked!" Ada exclaimed, admiring Robert's animated drawing.

"I know right!" he replies, his excitement evident. "It's these little things that make magic truly wonderful to have."

Ada's smile faded slightly as she remembered that Robert had grown up without magic until receiving his Hogwarts letter. She couldn't even begin to imagine what that must have been like. Ada had many questions but wasn't sure how to approach the topic without appearing insensitive.

Before she could dwell on it further, Professor Onai entered the classroom, her crimson cloak swaying with each confident step. A few more students followed her, with Tom Riddle among them. Ada had noticed that he shared every class with her, except for the elective Muggle Studies she had enrolled in at the last minute.

"Welcome, everyone!" Onai greeted as the students settled in, her commanding voice capturing their attention. "Today, we will continue to delve into the theory behind the Bubble-Head Charm, and next week we'll practice it at the lake," she announced, eliciting excited gasps from the class. "That is, if the weather allows it."

With the promise of an outside session next week, they all dutifully began copying the theory that had appeared on the blackboards, followed by the arithmetic formulas for the practice exercises, that went over every conceivable issue they could encounter while casting the charm. Lastly, Onai concluded the lesson with a slideshow of moving photographs showcasing the charm's various applications, from breathing underwater to flying at high altitudes, traversing fires, and safeguarding against the low-oxygen hex, as Onai remarked was one of Grindelwald's acolytes' favorite curses.

Afterward, as students started to leave, Ada hesitantly glanced at the teacher, who was sorting her belongings at her desk. Robert looked at her. "Aren't you coming?"

"I'll meet you in the Great Hall for lunch. There's something I need to ask Professor Onai," she replied. Robert shrugged and departed.

Ada turned around, biting her lip, and took a tentative step toward the front of the classroom.

"How can I assist you, Miss Burke?" Professor Onai inquired without looking up, her eyes preoccupied with the insides of her table's drawer.

"I'm sorry to bother you, Professor, but I was hoping you could help me with something. I need guidance regarding a locking charm and how to undo it."

Onai's brown eyes finally lifted as she took out a single rolled parchment that was adorned with a black seal in the center. She raised an inquisitive eyebrow at Ada, but her expression remained blank.

Feeling somewhat intimidated but determined, Ada fumbled in her bag until she retrieved her mother's book, packed that morning for this very purpose. She held it up as she explained, "It has some sort of charm that prevents me from opening it. I've tried everything from Alohomora to Aperio Maxima..."

"And why do you want to open it? Why was it locked in the first place?" Onai asked, a note of concern in her voice as she approached to examine the book's cover.

"I... I don't know," Ada hesitated, uncertain of the answer and how much of the book's history she should reveal. "It belonged to my m... to a family member, and they wanted me to have it. But they said I could only read it once I became of age because it was..."

"Then maybe you should wait until then," the professor interrupted, passing by Ada as she headed toward the classroom's exit. Ada sighed in frustration, causing Onai to pause and glance back at her. "If I had to guess, it's likely a combination of a security charm and an age-line spell... But I'd also take a closer look at those silver patterns on the cover; it resembles Brahmi script. Perhaps you could consult Professor Nordhagen, as it's closer to his area of expertise."

Ada nodded with a small smile. She had considered the patterns might be some form of ancient script related to the charm, and that maybe the Ancient Runes professor might provide valuable insights. But she had wanted to try Onai first.

"I'm sorry I can't assist you further, Miss Burke," Professor Onai added as Ada's expression denoted disappointment. "I have some very urgent business to attend to with Professor Dumbledore," she excused herself, and Ada noticed her slightly squeezing the mysterious parchment she still held in her hand.

Ada thanked her briefly and followed the professor outside the classroom. Her stomach growled, and the idea of heading to lunch was now at the forefront of her mind as she made her way toward the Great Hall.

As she reached the suspension bridge connecting the Astronomy Tower to the Quad Courtyard, she heard footsteps close behind her, uncomfortably close. Ada spun around and found herself almost colliding with none other than Tom Riddle, their faces mere inches apart.

"Are you following me?" she asked abruptly.

"Yes," he admitted without hesitation, which caught Ada off guard. She stood there, the wind breezing around them. "I wanted to talk to you about something."

"Oh," Ada replied, unsure of how to respond, still taken aback by his frankness. "Well, what is it you want to say to me?"

Riddle smiled, dimples grazing his cheeks. "I apologise for being rude," he began. "My name is Tom Riddle."

"I know," she blurted out without thinking, which made him raise an inquisitive eyebrow. "I mean, I've heard about you... you're in all of my classes." Ada finished with a shrug, breaking eye contact to gaze into the abyss beneath the bridge.

"Yes, I've also noticed. You're taking four N.E.W.T. courses; that's highly impressive."

"Well, so are you..." Ada pointed out, looking back at him.

"I'm actually taking five," Tom corrected her, and his smile never faltered, which began to unnerve Ada.

"Highly impressive," she mimicked him, and she conjured a fake smile of her own, but he didn't seem to mind.

"You're Adelaide Burke, aren't you?"

"It's Ada," it was her time to correct him. "Only my father calls me Adelaide."

"Apologies, Miss Burke," he said, his velvety voice lingering on her last name. "If what I hear is correct, your father worked as an antiquarian for Gringotts?"

Ada narrowed her eyes, wondering cautiously where these questions were leading. "Yes," she replied with uncertainty.

"Was it his book that you're trying to unlock, by any chance?" he asked, causing Ada's breath to catch in her throat. "I apologize for overhearing your conversation with Professor Onai. I had intended to wait outside the classroom to ask her something as well."

"Then why weren't you still waiting outside when we came out?" Ada demanded.

"I heard the professor mention she had business with Dumbledore and thought it best to approach her later," he explained, but for some reason, Ada felt doubtful.

She couldn't quite understand why he unsettled her. The truth was Ada knew very little about him beyond his perfect student reputation. Yet, something in his demeanor and the way he carried himself gave her the impression that he was trying very hard to hide something. His charming smile almost seemed like a shield.

"Alright... why do you care about my book?" she asked him straightforwardly, noticing the glint of delight in his eyes.

"I can help you unlock it if you want."

"Why would you want to help me? And why do you even think you can unlock it?"

Finally, his smile faded, but the deepness in his gaze intensified, and Ada found herself taking an involuntary step back.

"Let's just say I've always been drawn to a good puzzle, and I happen to own a translation text about Brahmic script," he said, taking a step closer. "But if you prefer to try to unlock it on your own, you should be aware that Professor Nordhagen only cares about the Elder Futhark as an ancient magical alphabet; he disregards other types of scripts and that would be of little to no help to you."

"The information inside may be private," Ada tried to excuse herself. "I don't want to share it with you."

"I don't care about what's inside, Miss Burke. I'm simply bored and find the situation intriguing."

"So, five N.E.W.T. classes aren't challenging enough for you?"

"Not nearly," he smiled, and this time, it looked more sincere. But Ada still hesitated.

"I'll think about it," she said before turning around and continuing to walk. Her heart raced, and her mind was a whirlwind of confusion. There was something peculiar about him, but she couldn't quite put her finger on it. Yet, it seemed that every time they interacted, she ended up feeling like a mess.