"Deep into that darkness peering, long I stood there, wondering, fearing, doubting, dreaming dreams no mortal ever dared to dream before."
Edgar Allan Poe
XIII
In the somber and cold night, the Dark Forest was filled with eerie lights and sinister whispers. A group of cloaked figures, their faces hidden behind bone masks, gathered in a clearing surrounded by ancient trees. They formed a circle around a large pile of wood, patiently awaiting their leader's arrival.
"Are you sure he's coming?" one of them asked nervously, glancing at the sky.
"Of course he is," another snapped. "He wouldn't miss this for the world. This is the night we make history."
The full moon shone brightly, casting a pale glow over the scene. The forest was hushed, save for the occasional rustle of leaves or the snap of a twig. The masked wizards tightly gripped their wands, prepared to unleash their dark magic at a moment's notice.
Suddenly, a sharp crack pierced the air, and a tall man with long blond hair and a thin mustache materialized in the center of the circle. He donned a white cloak that contrasted with his dark followers, and a silver pendant adorned with a symbol of a circle inside a triangle with a vertical line cutting through both.
"My loyal followers," he said in a commanding voice. "I am pleased to see you all here. Tonight, we will light the fire that will ignite the revolution. Tonight, we will show the world the true power of the dark arts. Tonight, we will make them fear us."
A wicked grin curved across his face as he raised his wand, directing it towards the pile of wood. A torrent of fire erupted from the tip, setting the bonfire ablaze with hues of orange and red. The flames crackled and danced, casting flickering shadows over the Death Eaters' faces. They erupted into cheers and applause, honoring their master with reverence and awe.
"Hail Grindelwald!" they chanted. "Hail Grindelwald!"
The Dark Lord's voice boomed, commanding the attention of his followers. "My friends, we gather here today to herald the dawn of a glorious future. Our pureblooded magic will dominate the inferior creatures. We will purge the world of the filth that corrupts it."
He paused, scanning the faces of his loyal supporters. "Still, to achieve this, we must be ready to face anyone who opposes us. They will try to stop us, to destroy us, and to reject our rightful place. But they will fail. Because we have something they lack. We have the power to overcome death itself."
A shrill scream tore through the air, drawing the Death Eaters' attention. They saw an elderly woman, clad in ragged robes and a turban, lying on the ground near the fire. Cassandra Trelawny, a seer who had been kidnapped by Grindelwald's agents, spasmed and jerked, as if possessed by a wicked power. Her eyes opened, blank and white, as she uttered in a hoarse voice.
"From the ashes he shall rise.. The master of death to become… But take heed, for this is the curse… Those who live shall die in disgust… Those who die shall live in the just..."
As the prophecy concluded, a bolt of lightning split the sky, followed by a deafening thunderclap that shook the ground. The bonfire erupted, showering sparks in all directions, and Trelawny collapsed, unconscious. The Death Eaters gasped, their eyes fixed on the bewildering scene before them. They were left stunned, unsure of how to interpret the augury and what it meant for their plans.
Grindelwald was not perplexed. Fury consumed him. He glared at the old witch and then at his followers, feeling his anger boil within him.
His fist clenched, he snarled, "Who is this woman who dares to defy me?"
His right-hand man, a young wizard with auburn hair and piercing blue eyes, stood at his side. Albus Dumbledore was the only person privy to the secret of how he had acquired the Elder Wand by wresting it from its previous owner, Gregorovitch.
The Dark Lord seized Dumbledore's arm and forcefully dragged him towards Cassandra. He flung him to the ground and pointed his wand at him.
"Albus, make her talk. Make her elucidate this prophecy."
Dumbledore gazed into Grindelwald's eyes, observing the unmistakable madness that consumed him. Fear gripped his heart, accompanied by a wave of regret. His mind was plagued by inquiries, wondering how he had fallen so far and blindly followed such dangerous man. Doubt crept in, making him wonder if he had betrayed his own principles.
Turning his attention to the elderly woman, Albus noticed the anguish etched onto her face. Taking a deep breath, he cast a spell under his breath.
"Enervate."
The witch stirred, her eyes fluttering open. Confusion filled her gaze as she surveyed the faces of cloaked man around her. Panic surged within her, and she desperately tried to escape. Weakened and terrified, her attempts proved futile.
"Let me go! Let me go!" she cried out.
"Silence, woman. You are in no position to make demands," Gellert coldly stated. With a wave of his wand, Trelawny felt a rope constrict around her body, tightening her restraints. She winced, feeling a solitary tear roll down her cheek.
"Please, I beg you. Don't harm me. I don't know anything. I can't remember anything," she pleaded.
The Dark Lord sneered. "Do not lie to me. You possess the gift of foresight. You have glimpsed the future and uttered predictions. Predictions that involve me."
Leaning closer, his voice dripping with menace, he demanded, "What do they mean? Tell me, woman. Tell me, or you will suffer."
Cassandra shook her head, sobbing. "I swear, I truly do not know. I never retain my prophecies. They emerge from me like a curse. I have no control over them. Please, believe me."
Teeth clenched, Grindelwald scowled. He was convinced she hid something from him. Turning to his second in command, he commanded, "Albus, torture her. Use the Cruciatus Curse. Make her divulge the truth."
Dumbledore hesitated, his troubled expression fixed on the older wizard. He yearned to reason with him, but fear of his wrath held him back.
With a nod, he aimed his wand at Trelawny. Whispers escaped his lips, "Crucio."
The witch let out a piercing scream, her body contorting in pain. It felt as though a thousand needles were piercing her skin. The agony was so intense that she wished for death, but it did not come.
With a twisted smile, the Dark Lord watched, taking pleasure in her suffering. He hoped that she would break under the torment.
Yet, Cassandra did not give in. She continued to scream, refusing to reveal anything.
Then, suddenly, she stopped and opened her eyes. The fear and pleading that once filled her gaze had transformed into a calm and defiant expression.
In a tone that no longer belonged to her, but seemed to be the voice of fate itself, she spoke, "Beware, the Dark Lord… For your end will be your beginning… Death will be your new life."
Her laughter followed, filled with madness and despair, echoing through the room.
Stunned and angered by her words, Gellert couldn't comprehend their meaning, nor did he appreciate her defiant tone. Rising to his feet, he pointed his wand at her and shouted, "Imperio!"
Trelawny felt a force invade her mind, attempting to take control of her will. The curse tried to compel her to obey.
Summoning all her strength, she fought back. Without hesitation, she walked towards the blazing fire at the center of the circle. Determined, she threw herself into the flames, merging with the fire itself.
Shocked and furious, Grindelwald hadn't anticipated her drastic action. He declared, "She was our sacrifice. She gave her life for the greater good."
His words were met with cheers from the Death Eaters, who joined him in worship. They chanted, "For the greater good! For the greater good! For the greater good!"
Albus, filled with silence and horror, recalled how Gellert had shown a similar disregard for life when his sister, Ariana, had died. Realizing he had seen enough, Dumbledore made the decision to leave.
After a week of confinement in the Hospital wing, Hermione staggered into the library, feeling a bit woozy. Madam Pomfrey had worked her magic to undo the dark curse, but the young witch still felt frail and exhausted.
She trudged to her usual spot, hoping to find some books to help her with her overdue homework, when she spotted Riddle sitting there, clutching a piece of parchment. He lifted his gaze and scowled as he saw her nearing.
"Mia, what are you doing here?" he demanded, sounding worried. "You should be resting. You look ashen."
Hermione mustered a faint smile. "I'm fine, Tom. Madam Pomfrey gave me the green light. I just wanted to do some reading."
The wizard shook his head. "You're overdoing it, Mia. You need to look after yourself."
"Thank you. But you know I can't stay away from my studies," she replied, sitting down next to him. She glanced at the scroll he was holding and gasped. "What is that?"
Riddle looked at the parchment and frowned. It was a drawing of a strange symbol - a triangle, a circle, and a line, one inside the other. He had asked Pollux to describe the tattoo on the Death Eater's arm during the attack on Hogsmeade. Since then, he had been trying to figure out what it meant, but had no clue.
"It's a type of mark, a design related to Grindelwald and his followers," he said, hesitantly. "I don't know what it is. Do you?"
"I've seen it before," she whispered, as if sharing a dark secret. She pointed at the symbol. "It's the sign of the Deathly Hallows."
"The what?" he repeated, his voice laced with confusion and curiosity.
With a sudden burst of energy, Hermione jumped up and ran to the nearest bookshelf. The titles of the books flashed before her eyes as she quickly scanned them, looking for the one she needed - a worn-out book titled "The Tales of Beedle the Bard". Opening it, the witch flipped through the pages until she found the story called "The Tale of the Three Brothers". Riddle's eyes followed her as she showed him the page, where the same symbol was printed.
"Look, here it is," she said, excitedly. "It's the emblem of the Deathly Hallows - the three most powerful objects in the wizarding world. According to legend, they were created by Death himself."
Tom took the book and read the story. It was about the three Peverell brothers who cheated Death and received magical gifts known as the Deathly Hallows: the Elder Wand, the Resurrection Stone, and the Invisibility Cloak.
Fascinated by the story, he looked at Hermione with a curious expression. "So, these Deathly Hallows are real?" he asked.
"Some people believe they are, some don't. It's a matter of faith, I suppose," she shrugged. "But there are legends and rumors that suggest they exist. Some say that the person who possesses all three Hallows becomes the Master of Death."
Riddle felt a surge of excitement. He had always been obsessed with the idea of conquering death. He hated the fact that his mother had died, and he feared his own mortality.
"What do you think, Mia?" he inquired. "Do you believe in claiming their power?"
Looking at him with a serious expression, Hermione sensed something dark and dangerous in his eyes. She felt a chill run down her spine.
"I don't know, Tom," she said, slowly. "But I think there are some things that are better left alone. Some things that are not meant for us to tamper with. Some things that are beyond our understanding."
It was a dark and stormy night. The wind howled outside, rattling the windows of the library. The only light came from the flickering candles that illuminated the dusty shelves of books. In a secluded corner of the Restricted Section, the two Slytherin orphans were sitting on the floor, surrounded by stacks of books on ancient magic and history. They had been sneaking into the library every night for weeks, researching the whereabouts of the Deathly Hallows. The two had a hunch that Grindelwald, the dark wizard terrorizing Europe, was after them.
"Look at this," Hermione whispered, showing Tom a newspaper clipping she had found. The article, dated a decade ago, reported that a wandmaker's shop in Romania had been attacked by Grindelwald, who had stolen a mysterious wand rumored to be unbeatable. "This must be the Elder Wand, one of the Hallows. It belonged to Mykew Gregorovitch until someone broke into his workshop one night and stole it."
"That's not all," he said, pulling out an old book. It was the diary of Marvolo Gaunt, the last descendant of Salazar Slytherin. He had found it at the Gaunt shack. "This diary contains a lot of secrets, Mia. Secrets that could change everything."
Opening the book, Riddle found a passage where Marvolo boasted about his ancestry. The parselmouth claimed to be not only a descendant of Slytherin but also of Cadmus Peverell, one of the three brothers.
"Do you know what this means?" he asked Hermione, his eyes gleaming. "It means that Gaunt was one of the owners of the Resurrection Stone, another one of the Hallows."
Hermione gasped. She had read about the second brother, Cadmus, who had asked Death for a stone that could revive his lost love. But he soon realized that the stone could only bring back a shadow of the person, not their true self. He killed himself in despair, and the stone passed on to his descendants.
"But where is the stone now?" she inquired, feeling a chill run down her spine. "Could it be...?"
Her sentence remained unfinished, but Riddle knew what she was thinking. Slowly, he nodded. "Yes, I think so. Grindelwald believes the stone is hidden somewhere in Hogwarts. And that's why he is planning to invade Britain. He probably thinks that he can use it to summon an army of the dead or to communicate with some dark force."
Fear and anger surged within the witch. The recent incidents of petrification came to her mind, where several students had been found frozen and lifeless, with no apparent cause. The rumors spreading around the school also haunted her.
She realized that these events were not random but part of a sinister plot. "We have to stop him, Tom," she said, clutching his arm. "We have to find the stone before he does. We have to protect Hogwarts."
The boy smiled and squeezed her hand. He felt a rush of adrenaline and excitement. Then he reached into his pocket and pulled out a ring - a gaudy golden band with a black stone set in the middle. It looked old and worn.
He handed the ring to Hermione, who took it in her hand. She looked at the stone and saw the Deathly Hallows symbol engraved on it. "Tom," she whispered, looking at him with awe and wonder. "This is it. This is the Resurrection Stone."
As they gazed at the ring, they heard a loud thud from the other side of the library. They turned their heads and saw the door of the Restricted Section slam open. A beam of light shone through the gap, followed by the sound of heavy footsteps. Someone was coming.
Gathering their books quickly, the two friends stuffed them into their bags. They put on their cloaks and pulled their hoods over their heads. Hermione grabbed the ring and held it tightly. They ran towards the exit, hoping to escape unnoticed.
But a flash of red light flew past them, barely missing their heads. They turned their heads and spotted a figure in black robes standing at the door, holding a wand. It was Professor Lefebvre. He had found them.
The Alchemy teacher glared at them with a cold and stern expression. "What are you doing here, Miss Granger and Mr. Riddle?" he demanded, his voice echoing in the silent library. "You know very well that you are not allowed to be out of your dorms at this time of night. And what is that you are holding, Miss Granger?"
He pointed his wand at the ring in the her hand, which sparkled in the dim light. The witch tightened her grip on the golden band, feeling its warmth in her palm. She lied, "It's nothing, sir. It's just a family heirloom. It belonged to my grandmother."
Hermione hoped that he would believe her, but she knew that he was too suspicious to be fooled. A secret supporter of Grindelwald, the derisive man kept his allegiance hidden from most people. "Don't lie to me, Miss Granger," he sneered. "I know what that ring is. Hand it over to me, now."
Ready to cast a curse, his lips parted to utter the dark words, but a sudden sound made him freeze. He turned his head and saw a familiar face standing in the doorway. His eyes narrowed and his voice was harsh as he spat, "What are you doing here?"
Another figure stood at the entrance of the library, drawing their attention. Professor Dumbledore, the Transfiguration teacher and the Deputy Headmaster, looked at them with sharp and piercing blue eyes. A wand was in his hand, but he did not point it at anyone.
Walking towards them, his long silver beard and hair flowed behind him. A warm smile was on his face as he greeted Hermione and Tom, and then he turned to Lefebvre with a serious expression.
"I was just about to ask you the same question, Professor," he replied. His tone was calm and confident, despite the wand pointed at his chest. "You know that the library is closed at night, and that students are not allowed to wander around the castle after curfew. And you also know that it is not appropriate to threaten students with your wand, especially when they are unarmed." He fixed at the wizard with a defiant glare, not backing down from the confrontation.
Alain frowned, "I was just doing my duty, Albus. These two students were in the Restricted Section, where they had no business being. And they were holding a dangerous object. I was about to confiscate it and report them to the Headmaster."
He gestured at the ring in Hermione's hand, hoping that Dumbledore would notice it and agree with him. But to his surprise, the older sorcerer did not seem interested in the golden band at all. He looked at it briefly, and then looked away, as if it was of no importance.
He said, "I'm afraid you are mistaken, Professor. That ring is not a dangerous object, nor is it stolen from the Ministry of Magic. It is, as Miss Granger stated, a family heirloom. And she has every right to keep it."
The Deputy Headmaster smiled at the witch, who nodded gratefully. Lefebvre remained skeptical, "Are you sure, Albus? How do you know that this is the truth?"
Dumbledore's voice was calm but stern as he addressed the group. "I know, because I trust them," he declared, placing his hand on Tom's shoulder. The boy flinched slightly, feeling a strange sensation as if the Transfiguration teacher was peering into his thoughts. "Miss Granger and Mr. Riddle are two of the brightest and most talented students in this school," he added, "and they would never do anything to harm it. They will not wander around the castle at night again, will you, children?" He looked at them with a mixture of concern and hope.
Hermione and Tom nodded quickly. Both were willing to agree to anything that would save them from trouble and keep them away from Professor Lefebvre.
"Very well, then," the Deputy Headmaster announced, his tone firm with authority, "I urge you to return to your dorms and get some rest. You have a busy day tomorrow, and you need to be prepared. Good night." He dismissed them with a wave of his hand before turning his attention to the Alchemy teacher. "And I advise you to head to your office, Professor, and forget about this incident. It was a misunderstanding, nothing more."
Dumbledore firmly took hold of Lefebvre's arm and led him away from the library. Alain tried to protest, but the elderly man paid no attention. He whispered something in his ear, causing the professor's eyes to widen in confusion. Reluctantly, he followed him obediently.
Hermione and Tom crept through the dark and silent hallways of Hogwarts, their fingers interlocked and their senses alert for any hint of danger. The only light came from the occasional torch or the moon shining through the windows, casting eerie shadows on the walls.
Suddenly, the witch felt a sharp, throbbing pain in her head, as if someone were exerting pressure on her brain. Wincing, she halted and leaned against the wall for support.
Concerned, Riddle inquired, "Are you alright?"
"I have a headache," she admitted, rubbing her temples. "It started bothering me after we left the library. I believe it's because of Dumbledore."
"Dumbledore?" he echoed, puzzled.
"Yes, Dumbledore. Remember when he touched your shoulder? And then he looked at me with those penetrating eyes. He was attempting to read our thoughts, Tom. He was using Legilimency."
"Legilimency?" he wondered, confused. "What does that mean?"
"It's a form of magic that allows one to delve into another person's mind, perceiving their thoughts, emotions, and memories. It's invasive and dangerous, and only a few wizards possess this ability. Dumbledore is one of them, and he likely wanted to discover what we were up to in the library and what we know about the ring." she explained, nervously.
Riddle felt a surge of anger and fear. He recalled the strange sensation he had experienced when the old wizard had touched him, as if someone were prying into his mind. The Slytherin had instinctively resisted, but he was uncertain of how much the Deputy Headmaster had actually seen.
"How dare he do that to us?" Hermione shouted, her fist clenched. "How dare he violate our privacy? He has no right."
"He is our enemy," Tom agreed bitterly. "Ever since I learned that he used to be friends with Grindelwald, I no longer have doubts. He's a liar and a hypocrite. That old fool pretends to be on our side, but he's working against us. He wants to prevent us from uncovering the truth about the Deathly Hallows."
The witch nodded, fully agreeing. She detested Dumbledore for attempting to manipulate her when she was in the Hospital Wing.
Suddenly Riddle felt an overwhelming urge to curse the man, to inflict harm and make him pay for everything he had done to both of them. He raised his wand, prepared to unleash his fury.
However, before he could utter a single word, Hermione grabbed his arm and pulled him close. Embracing him tightly, she whispered in his ear.
"Tom, calm down. Losing control won't benefit us. We must be clever, not impulsive."
The boy felt the warmth of her breath against his neck, the softness of her lips on his cheek, and the gentle rhythm of her heartbeat against his chest. Lowering his wand, he reciprocated the embrace and kissed her forehead, whispering in response.
"You're right, Mia. You're always right. I'm sorry, I let my emotions get the best of me. It won't happen again."
Smiling at each other, they resumed their journey toward the common room. Upon reaching the entrance to the Slytherin dormitory, they provided the password to the snake carved into the wall. As they entered the common room, the door made of bricks sealed shut behind them. These were dark times, and caution remained of utmost importance.