"O starless night! thy loveliness my soul inhales. Without those starry rays which speak a language known. For I desire the dark, the naked and the lone."
Charles Baudelaire
I
Hermione Granger made her way through the bustling corridors of the Ministry of Magic, her mind preoccupied with the task that awaited her in the Death Chamber at the Department of Secrets. As a trainee Unspeakable, she had always been drawn to the mysteries and complexities of ancient magic. Her current assignment involved the translation of ancient runes inscribed on the Veil, a magical artifact known to be a gateway between life and death.
Lost in her thoughts, the witch barely noticed the figure approaching her until she heard a familiar voice call out her name. "Granger! Wait up!"
Turning around, Hermione found herself face to face with Regina Rowle, a senior Unspeakable who had taken her under her wing during her time at the Department of Secrets. Rowle was a stern woman with a wealth of knowledge, and she respected her greatly.
"Regina," Hermione greeted her with a smile. "What brings you here?"
Rowle's expression was serious as she handed her a folded piece of parchment. "An elf just delivered this to me. It's from Head Auror Rodolphus Lestrange. He insists on speaking with you immediately."
Hermione's heart sank at the mention of Rodolphus Lestrange. She had never been fond of the man, finding him arrogant and dismissive of anyone who didn't fit his narrow view of what a witch or wizard should be. She knew that whenever he requested her presence, it was because something bad had happened.
"Thank you, Regina," she said, her voice tinged with worry. "I'll go see what he wants."
With a nod of understanding, Rowle watched as Hermione hurried off towards Lestrange's office. As she entered, the witch couldn't help but notice the sour expression on the Head Auror's face.
"What is it this time, Lestrange?" she asked, trying to keep her tone neutral.
Rodolphus sneered at her, clearly not bothering to hide his disdain. "One of my trusted Aurors, Hit Wizard Potter, has requested your assistance in one of our cases."
Hermione's eyebrows shot up in surprise. Harry Potter, her best friend, had sought her advice? She couldn't help but feel a mixture of relief and concern. Relief because she trusted Harry implicitly, and concern because she knew that if he was reaching out to her, something grave must have occurred.
"I'll do whatever I can to help," she replied, her voice steady despite the underlying tension in the room.
Lestrange scoffed, unable to resist a dig at her blood status. "Well, I suppose even a mudblood like you can be of some use."
Granger's jaw tightened, but she ignored his comment, refusing to let it affect her. Instead, she focused on the task at hand. Lestrange handed her a small portkey and instructed her to use it to reach the location where Potter was waiting.
As Hermione gripped the portkey, she felt a sudden tug at her navel as it whisked her away from the Ministry of Magic. A blur of colors and shapes flashed before her eyes until she landed with a thud on a patch of grass. She looked up and saw an imposing manor looming over her, its stone walls and iron gates showing signs of decay and vandalism.
The windows were either boarded up or shattered, the roof was missing tiles and covered in moss, and the ivy had grown so thick that it obscured most of the facade. It was a melancholic sight, a reminder of the grandeur and the horrors that had once unfolded within those walls.
She heard a familiar voice calling her name. The witch turned and saw Harry Potter, her best friend and partner in mischief, standing a few feet away. He appeared tired and worn, his green eyes lacking their usual sparkle. The wizard managed a weak smile and reached out his hand. "Mione, you're here."
Granger couldn't help but comment on Lestrange's unpleasant demeanor. "That man certainly knows how to make a lasting impression, doesn't he?"
With a sad glint in his eyes, Harry chuckled. "Unfortunately, we don't have time for pleasantries. There's been a death, and it's far from a simple case."
Taking her hand, he helped her to her feet. She stole another glance at the manor, a mix of curiosity and dread surging through her. "Harry, what are we doing here? What is this place?"
Running his fingers through his unruly hair, the wizard sighed. "This is the Riddle House. It used to belong to a wealthy muggle family, the most affluent in all of Little Hangleton."
Hermione gasped. She had heard of the infamous Riddle House, but seeing it in person was a different experience altogether. She knew it was the site of a horrific murder, where Morfin Gaunt, a deranged wizard, had mercilessly killed the entire Riddle family - Thomas Riddle, his wife Mary, and their heir Thomas Jr. The thought of the lingering dark magic sent shivers down her spine.
Noticing her reaction, Potter squeezed her hand reassuringly. "Don't worry, Mione. We're not here to confront Morfin Gaunt. We're here to investigate something else, something that might be connected to him."
He led her towards the slightly ajar iron gate, pointing his wand at it and muttering a spell. The gate creaked open, revealing a long driveway that led to the manor's front door. Motioning for Hermione to follow, Harry said, "Come on, let's go inside. But be careful, there are antiapparition wards around the property. Only authorized individuals can enter or exit."
Nodding in understanding, the witch followed closely. Hermione couldn't help but wonder what they hoped to uncover. She also pondered who else might know of their presence and whether they could be trusted.
Approaching the unlocked and slightly open front door, Potter pushed it gently and entered. Granger followed suit, feeling a chill in the air. The interior of the manor mirrored its dismal exterior. Cracked and stained walls, loose and creaky floorboards, and dusty, broken furniture greeted them. Cobwebs hung from the ceiling, and rats scurried across the floor. The pervasive smell of mold and decay filled the air.
Making their way to the drawing room, the largest and most spacious room in the house, Harry and Hermione surveyed their surroundings. Once a place of elegance and comfort, the room now exuded darkness and despair.
Only a few embers remained in the fireplace, the piano lay broken, and the sofa was torn. They searched for any clues or signs of life but found none. The room was empty and silent, save for the occasional squeak of a rat or the drip of a leaky pipe. Frowning, the wizard checked his watch. "We were supposed to meet someone here. They claimed to have something important to show us."
Raising her eyebrows, Hermione recalled the muggle deaths that had occurred in the manor a few years prior. The incidents had been reported in both the wizarding newspaper, the Daily Prophet, and the muggle media.
The causes had been attributed to various reasons, such as hexes, curses, poisoning, and even Grindelwald's inferi. However, the witch had always suspected a more sinister truth lurking behind them, one involving dark magic and malevolent intentions. Morfin Gaunt had been imprisoned in Azkaban for the crime, but something about the situation seemed off.
"Who are we meeting, Harry? And how do they know about the new muggle death?"
Shaking his head, Potter replied, "I don't know, Mione. Someone contacted me through a secure channel, claiming to have evidence that the muggle death was not natural. They had discovered the source of the problem here, in the Riddle House. Our help was what they asked for to put an end to it."
Hermione's face twisted into a frown, her unease evident. The idea of meeting a stranger in a haunted house didn't sit well with her. The thought of being caught up in a dangerous mystery, one that could potentially put their lives and the lives of others at risk, was unsettling. The darkness surrounding them, both literally and figuratively, only added to her discomfort.
As she looked at Harry, she could see the same mix of doubt and fear in his eyes. But she also saw the unwavering determination and courage that had always defined him. These were the very qualities that had enabled him to face dark wizards time and time again, ultimately defeating them. They were the qualities that had made him her best friend and her hero.
A smile crept onto Hermione's face as she squeezed his hand. "Well, Harry, it seems we don't have a choice. We need to uncover what's happening here and put a stop to it. We've done it before, and we can do it again."
Potter returned her smile and nodded. "You're right, Mione. We can do this. Together."
After sharing a brief hug, they let go and readied their wands. Making their way out of the drawing room, they headed towards the hall, hoping to find the mysterious contact who could provide them with answers.
Harry's attention was immediately captured by a chilling sight. On the floor lay a lifeless body of a man, his face contorted with pain and terror. Hermione pointed to a ring on the man's finger, its ominous allure visible even from a distance.
"That cursed band is what caused his death," the witch explained, her voice heavy with the gravity of the situation. "It drained his life force, leaving him nothing more than an empty shell."
A shiver ran down Granger's spine as she realized the enormity of the task ahead. She would have to unravel the secrets surrounding the ring, all while navigating the treacherous realm of dark magic.
The two friends scanned the dimly lit hallway with their wands, looking for any other clues that could explain the mysterious death of the man lying on the floor. His skin was pale and wrinkled, his eyes wide open and staring blankly at the ceiling. He looked like he had aged decades in a matter of seconds, as if his life force had been sucked out of him by a powerful curse. The trainee Unspeakable felt a pang of sadness and frustration, knowing that she had failed to explain the source of the dark magic that had killed him.
As they prepared to leave the manor, Hermione carefully secured the cursed ring in a small wooden box lined with protective charms. The golden band had a large black stone with a strange symbol engraved on it, and it radiated a faint aura of evil. The witch hoped that she could learn more about it at the Department of Mysteries.
"Are you ready to go?" Harry asked, as he put on his cloak.
"Yes, let's go. There's nothing more we can do here." Granger replied, as she pocketed the box with the ring into her beaded handbag with an undetectable extension charm.
They walked towards the entrance of the manor, which was surrounded by a high stone wall and a wrought iron gate. Potter had been initially assigned to investigate the manor after receiving a tip from a local muggle, who had reported hearing strange noises and seeing flashes of light coming from the property.
As they reached the gate, they saw another Auror waiting for them. It was Neville Longbotton, a close friend of Hermione and Harry since their time at Hogwarts. Neville was renowned for his extensive knowledge of magical plants and poisons. He had a friendly face and a warm smile, and he greeted them with a hug.
"Hey, you two. How did it go?" Longbottom inquired.
"Not very well, I'm afraid. We couldn't determine the exact cause of death," Potter replied, gesturing towards the manor.
"Who was he, anyway?" the witch asked.
Neville sighed and handed them a file. "His name was Frank Bryce. He was a muggle residing in the nearby village of Little Hangleton. After serving in the Second World War, he became the gardener for the Riddle family. When the Riddles died under mysterious circumstances about ten years ago, he was the only one who remained here."
"Mysteriously? Are you suggesting Morfin Gaunt was responsible?" Granger asked.
"That's the theory, yes. Still, it was never proven. The muggle police concluded it as a natural death, but the wizarding community suspected Morfin's involvement. He was related to the Riddles, after all. His sister, Merope, bewitched and married Thomas Riddle Jr., the heir to their vast estate. This is why he harbored such hatred towards the Riddles - his sister marrying a muggle," Neville explained.
"So, what do you think happened to Bryce? Was he poisoned?" Hermione suggested, eager to hear his findings.
"I don't believe so. I conducted several tests, but there were no traces of poison in his system. He was in perfect health, except for the fact that he was dead. It's as if something drained his life force, but I cannot pinpoint the cause," Longbottom replied, shaking his head.
Granger nodded and presented him with the box containing the ring. "We found this on his finger. It appears to be a cursed ring, emitting dark energy. Do you recognize it?"
Neville cautiously took the box and opened it. His eyes widened in astonishment. "Merlin's beard, this is Slytherin's ring! It is one of the Gaunt family heirlooms!"
"The what?" Harry questioned, perplexed.
"It belonged to Marvolo Gaunt, a dark wizard who resided nearby. His son was suspected of killing the previous owners of this mansion under mysterious circumstances. Yet, since the Gaunt family has long vanished, the true nature of the cursed ring remains unknown," Neville explained.
"Wow, that sounds extraordinary. And dangerous," Harry remarked.
"The black stone in the ring is extremely dangerous. It was never intended for use by the living. Legend has It can only summon the shades of the deceased, not their true selves. And as you can see, it can also curse the user," Longbottom described, pointing to the ring.
"How did Bryce come to possess it? And why did he wear it?" Hermione pondered.
"I don't know. Perhaps he discovered it in the manor or someone gave it to him. Maybe he was driven by curiosity or a desire to see someone he had lost. But whatever the reason, it was a fatal mistake," Neville replied.
At that moment, another Auror arrived at the scene. It was Adrian Pucey, a tall and muscular man with dark hair and cold eyes. Pucey had been their classmate at Hogwarts, though a few years older. He belonged to Slytherin, the house notorious for producing dark wizards and witches. His family had also supported Grindelwald until Dumbledore defeated the Dark Lord in the final battle.
Adrian managed to avoid prosecution by claiming that he had been under the Imperius Curse, a powerful mind-control spell. However, his disdain for those of non-pure blood was evident as he made a sarcastic remark directed at Hermione, who was a muggleborn, or as he called her, a mudblood.
"Well, well, well. If it isn't the bookworm know-it-all. What are you doing here, Granger? Looking for some new books to read?" Pucey sneered.
Hermione felt anger surge within her and reached for her wand. She was about to hex Pucey when Harry intervened.
"Mione, don't. He's not worth it," Potter said, holding her back.
"Let me go, Harry. He's a bigot and a coward. He deserves to be taught a lesson," Granger protested, struggling to free herself.
"Easy, Hermione. He's just trying to provoke you. Don't give him the satisfaction," Neville advised, trying to calm her down.
Adrian smirked and was about to make another snide comment when Potter asked him why he was present.
"What are you doing here, Pucey? Did you get lost on your way to the Ministry?" Harry inquired.
Pucey glared at him before responding, "I'm here on official business, Potter. Unlike you, I don't waste my time playing detective with dead muggles. I have more important things to do."
"Like what?" Harry questioned.
"Like finding out who killed yet another filthy muggle in the Gaunt Shack," Pucey replied.
"What's the Gaunt Shack?" Hermione inquired.
"It's a run-down old hut in the woods near Little Hangleton. It used to belong to the Gaunt family, a group of inbred and insane purebloods who practiced dark magic and tortured muggles," Pucey explained.
"Oh, I see. So, another body was found there? Who was it?" Potter asked.
"It was a muggle named Walter Grieg. He was a wealthy man who owned the Riddle House, although he never lived there or made any use of it. Grieg employed Frank, the man found dead in the manor, to take care of the gardening. He must have stumbled upon the Gaunt Shack and met the same fate as Bryce," Adrian confirmed.
"That's terrible. How did you find out about him?" Hermione demanded.
"We received an anonymous tip, just like you did. Someone is playing games with us, and they're not very kind," Pucey replied.
"Do you have any idea who it could be?" Neville asked.
"I don't know for sure. But I have a feeling it's connected to Grindelwald. Maybe he had a secret follower or left behind a trap. Perhaps he isn't really dead," Adrian said, casting a suspicious glance at Harry.
A cold sweat broke out on Harry's forehead. He couldn't help but wonder if the Dark Lord had somehow survived. Shaking off the thought, he reminded himself that Grindelwald was gone and posed no threat to him.
Looking at Hermione and Neville, Potter felt a sense of trust. He knew they were his true friends who would always stand by him. He also believed that together they could unravel any mystery. With a smile, he suggested, "Let's head to the Gaunt Shack. Maybe we'll find some clues and figure out who's behind all this."
"Great idea, Harry. Count me in," Granger agreed, nodding.
"Sounds good. I'm with you," Longbottom added, showing his agreement.
They turned to Pucey and invited him to join them. Adrian hesitated but eventually agreed. He realized he had no choice since Harry was his superior. Hermione observed the interaction with a blend of curiosity and suspicion. She pondered what Pucey's intentions might be, and whether he harbored any ulterior motives.
Determined to stay vigilant, the witch resolved to closely monitor his actions and uncover his true intentions. Unbeknownst to her, a sinister figure far more malevolent than Grindelwald lurked in the shadows, patiently biding their time, orchestrating the attacks.