CHAPTER 11: THE ENIGMA OF BLOOD MAGIC

With a deft flick of his wand, Harry crumpled up the parchment bearing the title, "The Big Book of Future Tournament Tasks," and set it ablaze. "It's best to leave no trace," he remarked, his eyes locked on the parchment as it turned to ash.

Salazar nodded in agreement, his eyes fixed on the flickering flames. "Nobody else can see it down here," he added.

Harry's brow furrowed as he recalled Fawkes's ability to penetrate their hidden domain. "But Fawkes managed to get down here," he pointed out.

Salazar rolled his eyes and expertly reeled in the ornate serpent he had been inspecting, coiling it gracefully around his arm. "I'll explain more about that when you've delved deeper into your magical studies. Did you ever decipher the meaning of the message you just incinerated?"

"I can make an educated guess," Harry replied, his voice tinged with intrigue.

"Did your guess hit the mark?"

Harry leaned back, reflecting on the curious chain of events. "There were dragons, the minuscule model dragon that was used to select them bit me, and then Katie Bell, one of my fellow Gryffindor housemates, approached me after the Quidditch match."

Salazar grinned, a mischievous glint in his eye. "Ah, the tiny dragon's bite," he chuckled. "But why the cryptic message?"

Harry contemplated the question, his gaze drifting to the dancing flames. "If I'd been forewarned too specifically, the model dragon wouldn't have had the chance to bite me, and I might not have been motivated to take it into the arena with me," he explained. "On the other hand, if I hadn't told myself anything at all, I might have disregarded it completely and missed out on how incredibly useful it turned out to be. It had to be just right."

Salazar nodded in approval. "Very astute, indeed. That also explains why you had that mischievous grin on your face when you wrote the note."

Harry chuckled. "I've never played a prank on myself from the future before. The whole concept struck me as rather entertaining."

Salazar's expression darkened for a moment. "Godric was quite fond of such childish endeavors as well," he muttered, "though he lacked the decency to limit his antics to himself."

"What about this Katie Bell?" Salazar inquired, curiosity evident in his voice. "You've never mentioned her before."

Harry paused, contemplating the question. "I think she would have been quite upset if I had ignored her like I nearly did," he admitted.

"Is she someone of importance to you?" Salazar pressed further.

Harry shrugged, his expression thoughtful. "She's a friend, I suppose. More like a teammate, but she stood by me and tried to help."

Salazar nodded, understanding the significance. "You wouldn't want her to change her mind and undo everything she did."

The snake, nestled around Salazar's arm, seemed to mimic the nod, its forked tongue flicking out alongside the inside of Salazar's palm.

Salazar couldn't help but fidget, his irritation apparent. "Wretched reptile," he muttered. "I wish I had decided to incorporate you into the design of the frame of this painting instead of confining you in here with me. You can't even talk."

"Why not?" Harry inquired, intrigued.

"The snake would have to be smart enough," Salazar explained. "While I enchanted the painting to be a sort of replica of myself, this useless, scaly worm is just paint and canvas charmed to act like a snake." With a sigh, he unwound the serpent from his arm and draped it over his shoulders. "Now, grab that book off the shelves behind you."

Harry turned his attention to the numerous books on the shelf, eyeing them carefully. "Which book are you referring to? The small one?" He squinted at the title. " 'A Thousand Snake Puns'?"

Salazar coughed and appeared to flush slightly. "Not that one. I meant my book, 'Writing in the Elixir of Life.'"

Harry ran his finger along the titles, his gaze moving across the extensive collection. "This is the largest book in the library."

"Second largest," Salazar corrected, pointing his wand into the far corner. "Rowena authored a treatise titled 'Arithmantic Principles in Potions,' which is an additional ten thousand words longer."

Harry shook his head decisively. "Well, I'm definitely not reading that one."

Salazar couldn't help but let out a hearty chuckle. "I didn't either," he mused with an amused grin. "Rowena knows her stuff, but her writing was always so matter-of-fact and dry, unlike the vibrant prose in her dear old friend Salazar Slytherin's bestseller, 'A Thousand Snake Puns.' I see you've noticed the name of the author," Harry remarked with a mischievous glint in his eye, referring to the heavy, leather-bound tome.

"Just take me and the books outside," Salazar requested, eager to begin their lesson.

Harry, using his magical prowess, skillfully levitated a stack of ancient tomes off the desk and gently lifted the portrait off the wall. He carefully carried Salazar out into the main chamber, where they would embark on their magical journey.

"Now, I can finally teach you about the things I excelled at," Salazar declared, his wand producing silver and green sparks over the head of his serpent in the painting. "Naturally, as my heir, you'll inherit these exceptional abilities as well."

"Indeed," Harry responded with a wry smile as he leaned the portrait against the foot of one of the imposing serpent effigies. Seated on the chamber's stone floor, he eagerly awaited Salazar's knowledge.

"So," Harry prompted, eager to dive into the magical world of his ancestor.

Salazar rubbed his hands together, deep in thought. "Where to begin?" he muttered to himself. "Where to begin?"

"The basics?" Harry suggested, sensing Salazar's hesitance.

Salazar's face fell as he reluctantly agreed, "Fine. We have to start with the basics. It will take time to get to the exciting aspects, but I'd rather have you grasp the fundamentals than risk you accidentally destroying the chamber or yourself." Harry let out a groan, realizing that the conversation might turn out to be a rather dry one.

"So, what can you tell me about blood magic?" Harry inquired, bracing himself for a potentially intricate explanation.

Salazar cleared his throat, ready to impart his wisdom. "Blood magic encompasses any form of magic that employs blood as a medium or a tether. However, due to its potent and complex nature, it's predominantly reserved for sacrificial and ritual magic. The cardinal rule of sacrificial magic is that the value of the sacrifice must be equivalent to what you aim to achieve."

"That's it?" Harry asked, his curiosity piqued by the simplicity of the rule.

"Of course, it's not that simple," Salazar began, emphasizing the intricacies of sacrificial magic. "Sacrificial magic is a subtle and delicate art that demands a profound understanding of both magic itself and one's own self. You can't truly sacrifice something unless you comprehend its value, nor can you achieve a result without understanding the implications it carries."

Harry nodded, absorbing this deeper perspective. "So, what are the practical applications of blood magic?" he inquired.

Salazar leaned in, his tone serious. "The scope is vast—anything and everything, really. Parselmagic, for instance, is an example of complex blood magic, where blood serves as both a medium and an anchor for the magic. This chamber, the thoughts of sufficiently intelligent serpents, and our shared magical abilities are all intricately bound to the blood that flows in my veins and now yours. It's perhaps my most remarkable creation. The ability to communicate with animals was once more widespread and extended beyond snakes, but it gradually vanished over time. The last witch documented to possess this gift lived half a millennium before my time. I attempted to restore some of what was lost, initially through other means and eventually through blood magic. However, I was unwilling to sacrifice more than I did, so my magic exclusively responds to serpents, as they are the most readily summoned."

Harry listened intently, his curiosity growing. "What did you have to sacrifice to attain this power?"

Salazar's gaze grew somber. "Someone, to be precise."

Harry felt a chill run down his spine. "Someone?" His voice quivered with shock.

Salazar met his gaze with solemnity. "She was already terminally ill. We sacrificed the remaining time we had together, as painful as it was, to create something that would benefit and set apart our descendants for as long as they endured."

Harry's shoulders slumped, and he realized the gravity of his assumption. "I'm sorry. I should have known better than to jump to conclusions."

"Yes, you should have," Salazar responded with a sharp tone. "You cannot fathom the enormity of the sacrifice I made. I, too, didn't fully grasp it until after it was done. My daughter and I spent many years in pursuit of an artifact rumored to have the ability to defy the laws of death, allowing us to communicate with her once more. Unfortunately, I never found it and was forced to abandon the quest as age caught up with me. But my daughter didn't give up before my passing. It's possible she succeeded, but I'll never know for certain. That single sacrifice shaped both my life and my daughter's in one way, and our descendants' lives in another. If there's one thing you should take away from this, it's an understanding of the profound impact blood magic can have on one's existence."

Curious and eager to learn, Harry inquired, "How does blood magic actually work?"

Salazar explained, "Blood is the most potent magical medium, deeply personal and inherently powerful. Blood magic employs it as a conduit to perform feats that would otherwise be deemed impossible."

"Feats like surviving the Killing Curse?" Harry pondered, his finger gently tracing the lightning bolt scar on his forehead.

Salazar stroked his chin thoughtfully. "There are very few forms of magic capable of achieving such a result. The Killing Curse isn't a simple spell; it's derived from one of the few other equally powerful and intricate fields of magic. Blood magic could potentially be employed, but it would come at the cost of the caster's life, or even more, rendering the protective aspect almost moot."

"But could it be cast to safeguard someone sharing the caster's blood?" Harry probed further.

"Perhaps," Salazar considered. "It wouldn't be straightforward, but it's an intriguing concept. To make an entire bloodline immune to such a formidable curse would demand a sacrifice greater than most would be willing to give."

"I actually survived it," Harry disclosed. "When I was just a baby, Voldemort attempted to kill me. He succeeded in ending my parents' lives, but his intended final act reflected his curse back onto himself."

Salazar's eyes widened with interest. "That might very well be an application of blood magic," he theorized. "Perhaps your parents only extended that protection to you, reducing the sacrifice to a level that could be feasible, though it would still have been a significant sacrifice, no doubt."

"They did die," Harry confirmed, his voice heavy with the knowledge of his parents' sacrifice.

Salazar's brow furrowed as he continued to stroke the serpent draped around his shoulders. "I would surmise that they executed a blood magic-based sacrificial enchantment that would activate upon their deaths, aimed at ensuring your safety. Protecting you from their attacker was the paramount goal, and it certainly constituted a sacrifice dear enough to accomplish that."

Harry nodded, recalling his past experiences. "It lasted until at least my eleventh year. When Voldemort attempted to harm me in my first year at Hogwarts, he suffered burns at my touch."

"It's possible that the protective enchantment is still in effect," Salazar suggested. "Your parents sacrificed not only their lives but also every moment they could have spent with their child, which holds immeasurable value to any parent."

"I'd rather not have to rely on it," Harry admitted.

Salazar assured him, "You won't, but it's a potent advantage while it remains active. The magic will safeguard you in any way it can as long as it lingers within your blood. However, it's prudent to avoid lethal spells, particularly the Killing Curse."

"Why especially?" Harry inquired. "Isn't dead just dead?"

Salazar explained, "Most lethal spells are essentially variations of other curses, simply causing something to affect you. In the case of many lethal spells, it's the effect itself that ultimately leads to death, and such effects can often be prevented through various means. The Killing Curse, however, is rooted in soul magic. It literally severs your soul from your body, instantly ending your life rather than creating conditions that lead to death."

"Soul magic?" Harry was intrigued, prompting him to delve deeper into the intricacies of this mysterious form of magic.

"Soul magic is not something I ventured far into practicing," Salazar confessed. "It shares similarities with blood magic in certain aspects but is far more abstract in its concept, which makes it inherently dangerous. There are only a handful of uses for soul magic that are worth the immense cost it entails. The Killing Curse is one of the rare soul magic spells with no permanent effect. It fractures the soul upon use, but, under the right conditions and given time, a soul can heal. If you're interested, there's a very ancient Egyptian book in my study. It may not be a comprehensive guide, but it references a wizard named Seth, who is credited with the first use of the Killing Curse. He's likely its creator."

Harry furrowed his brow. "The name Seth sounds somewhat familiar."

"You might have heard it in the Muggle world," Salazar continued. "The ancient Egyptians used that name for their god of murder. Whether there's a connection between the wizard Seth and the deity Seth is unclear."

Harry considered the possibility. "All things considered, it seems likely."

Switching the topic, Salazar asked, "Did you bring all the other books I recommended to you before?"

Harry quickly recounted the titles, working his way down the stack. "Yes, I have them all right here. See?"

Salazar's eyes fell on one particular book. "The Secrets of the Darkest Arts?"

Harry's face showed his realization. "I didn't intend to bring that one," he admitted, gazing at the well-worn tome with a few crumpled parchments protruding from its pages. "It must have gotten accidentally stacked beneath the others back in the study."

Salazar offered some insight, "It's possible that it contains valuable information. Blood magic, being a formidable form of magic, has often been employed in questionable ways. The inherent element of sacrifice further clouds its reputation."

Harry examined the neat, flowing script on the parchment emerging from the book. Riddle's handwriting was unmistakable. "I'll save that one for last," he decided.

"Take them to the Room of Requirement after this tournament meeting you have to attend," Salazar suggested. "Just be sure not to be seen reading them, and return them to the study afterward. Most of those books were considered old and valuable when I acquired them, and now they could be worth a fortune."

Harry quickly checked the time using a spell but couldn't help but wonder how Salazar seemed to know what time it was.

"There's nothing more I can teach you until you've read those books and grasped the two core principles of blood magic and their applications. It's not a discrete subject like transfiguration, but it can greatly enhance or create wards, enchantments, and various other areas of magic."

Salazar let out an exaggerated groan and scrunched up his face. "I just quoted Godric. He used to drone on about how blood magic wasn't really a distinct field of study. I bet he's having a good laugh in the afterlife right now, that overgrown child."

Harry carefully carried the portrait back, shrank the books, and stowed them in his pocket. He also retrieved his golden egg from the study desk. Salazar's grumbling echoed in his ears as he made his way toward the classroom for the tournament meeting. "As long as he's not still going when I get back," Harry thought with a wry smile.

"All our champions are here!" Ludo Bagman declared, swinging his legs off the edge of a desk while the black and yellow robes of his old beater's shirt strained over his belly.

Mr. Crouch, on the other hand, appeared more focused on the time, frowning as he tapped his pocket watch. "The first task is complete. You have each obtained the golden egg your dragons were guarding and received scores for your performance."

"Some of which were truly spectacular," Bagman chimed in, offering Harry a thumbs-up and a grin.

"The egg is your clue for the second task," Mr. Crouch continued, ignoring Bagman's comment. "Solve it."

Harry examined his golden egg, turning it over in his hands. "I'll have to try opening it. It's an egg, so it makes sense that the clue would be inside."

Cedric bounced his egg in his hands, and Fleur ran her wand tip over hers with a curious expression. Krum, on the other hand, scowled and gave his egg a shake. "Well, it doesn't rattle, so at least it's not more broom polish," he grumbled.

Harry couldn't help but chuckle. "If it sprouts wings and flies off, you can borrow my Firebolt."

Krum grinned and gave Harry an appraising look. "You have a Firebolt? You're a Seeker, yes?"

Harry nodded in response, confirming his position on the Quidditch team.

"If there are no further questions, this meeting is concluded," Mr. Crouch stated, sliding his pocket watch back into his pocket and making his way to the door.

Bagman, however, stopped Harry at the door, his tone hushed. "Harry, if you need any assistance with the egg, don't hesitate to reach out," he offered, leaving with a wink.

A stern expression overtook Crouch's face as he and Bagman engaged in a heated, whispered argument on one side of the corridor.

Harry cradled his golden egg beneath his arm and set off in the direction of the Room of Requirement.

"Hey, Harry," Ginny said, appearing in his path.

Harry halted and looked at her. "Ginny..."

She hesitated before speaking. "I stopped you," she admitted, her cheeks flushing. "I wanted to say sorry."

Harry sighed, his expression softening. "A lot of people have been apologizing, from what I've heard."

"A lot of people didn't want to try and stand up to Angelina and all the seventh and sixth years," Ginny admitted, her discomfort evident. "Sorry."

Harry sighed, understanding her perspective. "Angelina seems to be having a change of heart, though."

Ginny's eyes narrowed, and her jaw tightened. "Katie said that, did she?"

Harry raised an eyebrow. "She did."

"I didn't turn my back on you," Ginny said, her voice tense. "I just didn't want to suddenly act all close with you because... well, because I was afraid you'd think I was just trying to get close to you."

Harry responded, trying to reassure her, "You should have, Ginny. I probably would have noticed, but I wouldn't have minded all that much."

"It's too late, isn't it?" Ginny asked, her tone tinged with regret.

Harry nodded. "Sorry. If it helps, I'll accept your apology."

A smile finally graced Ginny's lips. "I'd like that. I was hoping to be someone better this year, not just Ron's little sister who got into trouble and needed rescuing."

"You've succeeded," Harry assured her, offering a warm grin. "I haven't seen you stick your elbow in a butter dish in years."

Ginny blushed and covered her face with her hand. "Oh no. You saw that?"

Harry chuckled. "I tried not to laugh. I'm not the same boy who rushed down to the Chamber of Secrets after a basilisk to save you anymore, Ginny."

Ginny's expression seemed to falter. "I never was."

"Hermione said you'd changed," Ginny mentioned.

Harry's tone turned colder as he replied, "She's right."

Ginny winced. "Touchy subject, I see."

"You wouldn't be fond of someone who broke your wand, either. I heard what happened to Ron," Ginny remarked.

Harry shook his head. "He was being an idiot. He still is."

Ginny's expression grew more serious. "Still?"

Harry admitted, "I haven't seen him in a while, actually."

She nodded, her red ponytail swaying behind her. "He and Hermione have some ridiculous theory that something happened to you at the World Cup. They think you were hit by some dark curse, and that it affected you in the head."

Harry couldn't help but laugh. "Does anyone actually believe that?"

Ginny responded, "Seamus and Dean do, but a lot of the house is just tired of the whole thing now. Most are either avoiding those involved or waiting to see who turns out to be right. Neville still hangs around Ron and everyone, but it's because he hasn't got the courage to make other friends."

Harry smiled, finding some satisfaction in the situation. "They do deserve it."

As the Great Hall began to fill with people, Harry grew restless and shifted from one foot to the other. "Was there something else?"

Ginny shuffled her feet and looked somewhat hesitant. "I was hoping you'd come eat lunch with us."

"Us?" Harry inquired, a hint of concern in his tone. "A lot of your friends might not be so keen about that."

"It's me, the twins, and a few others," Ginny explained. She then added, "Katie will be there."

Harry pointed to the golden egg in his hand. "I have to go play with this thing," he said, tapping the top of the egg.

To his surprise, the egg produced a clear, ringing sound.

"I see," Ginny said, her brow furrowing as she sighed. "Well, I hope the second task goes as well as the first."

"It has to go better. I'm not going to beat Krum or that French girl if it doesn't," Harry thought to himself.

He quietly slipped through the Great Hall and made his way up to the seventh floor, where he located the hidden room opposite the tapestry featuring tap dancing trolls.

"I need somewhere to solve the clue of the egg," Harry muttered, focusing on his desire. He waited until a door materialized.

The room beyond was simple and plain. Stone benches lined the walls, each adorned with carved half-fish, half-human creatures wielding tridents that swam excitedly in the stone. A small bubbling pool dominated the room's center.

Harry frowned as he surveyed the room. "Not quite what I expected. Clearly, this room has some nuances I've not quite grasped."

He sat down and turned the golden egg over in his hands, examining it closely in search of a catch or clasp. Harry cautiously tapped it with his wand, and to his surprise, it split in half, emitting a piercing shriek.

Harry reacted swiftly, slamming the egg shut. "Some clue that is!"

He took a deep breath to steady himself. "Stupid egg. I hate loud noises, especially unexpected ones."

The mermaids on the bench seemed to gesture toward him, waving their tridents in the air.

"Blood magic first," Harry decided, determined to make the most of his time before the next task. He placed the egg on the floor and gave it a swift kick, causing it to roll across the room and teeter on the edge of the bubbling pool. Harry disregarded it for the moment and pulled out his stack of books, ready to delve into the secrets of blood magic.

Welcome to PEVERELL_LEGACY on P.A.T.R.E.O.N . This is where the magic happens, where stories come to life, and where you get the first glimpse of what's next.

FOR SUPPORT AND EARLY ACCESS TO NEW CHAPTERS JOIN US ON P.A.T.R.E.O.N. PEVERELL_LEGACY

NOTE: I WILL PUBLIC NEXT UPDATE OF STORIES ON P.A.T.R.E.O.N A DAY BEFORE RELEASING ON FANFICTION, YOU CAN JOIN P.A.T.R.E.O.N. FOR FREE TO READ A DAY EARLY.