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Hi all,

Here's the next chapter. Charlus talks to Harry about Voldemort, and Harry is cornered and forced to display his talents with a broom.

Chapter 44

4th February

The Great Enemy is returning. Long ago, a powerful darkness emerged that posed a grave threat to Magical Europe. However, in the face of this peril, several families joined forces and, through acquiring power from a deity, managed to repel the darkness and preserve the realm.

The Great Enemy is returning. By observing closely, one can discern the influence of this terrible foe on the current timeline. The responsibility falls on the Young Champion, residing in a distant future and possessing the extraordinary power of being a magical animagus and having the serpent's tongue, to step up and protect against this threat.

Salazar's message lingered in Harry's mind long after he had left for his chamber, depriving him of much-needed rest. However, this insomnia served a purpose by providing much-needed clarity about the message's content. Harry had an idea of what the message meant when it mentioned the Great Enemy.

It seemed strikingly similar to the adversary that his ancestors and other magical families had faced at some point in time. These were the same families who had summoned Modor to gain enough power to defeat the enemy. When his grandfather told him the story, he didn't mention what happened to the enemy they had confronted. He wondered if it had been completely defeated or simply subdued. Perhaps he should check with his grandfather for more information.

When Harry questioned Salazer further, he had nothing more to say. He met a Seer, who imprinted the prophecy on his mind and forbade him from sharing it with others. The prophecy was known as a cursed prophecy because the person who heard it was obligated to deliver the contents to the person named in it. Salazar was unfortunate that the prophecy referred to someone who lived a millennium in the future. It contributed significantly to Salazer's decision to transform himself into the abomination he is today. Now that he had delivered the prophecy, all he needed to do was wait for the Sorting Hat to be discovered and destroyed before he could finally rest.

Harry took a shower the next morning. He was able to clear his mind and put the prophecy behind him. Whatever it was, he wasn't going to think about it at the moment. The only thing he wanted to do was resume his studies and work on his staff. He hadn't spent much time on it lately due to all the distractions.

There was still the issue with Pettigrew and Quirrell but hopefully, with the Aurors on the case, he wouldn't have to worry about it so much.

Upon exiting the bathroom, he was taken aback by the unexpected presence of his grandfather and an Unspeakable.

"Let me guess," Harry said, gesturing towards the individual concealed by his hood. "I have a hunch that your name begins with the letter 'C'."

"How very astute of you, Mr Potter," Croaker said dryly, lowering his hood

"What's the matter now?" Harry asked.

"Before you have breakfast, we need to have a conversation with you," Charlus told him.

"What about?"

"Let's move the conversation to another location," Croaker suggested, as Madam Pomfrey stepped out of her office to attend to her patients.

They located an empty classroom where Harry took a seat and observed his grandfather's restless pacing. What had caused this unusual indecisiveness? It wasn't a trait he usually associated with the powerful wizard. Croaker, meanwhile, patiently waited for Charlus to initiate the conversation.

"I would like to have breakfast some time today," Harry snarked. "What do you want to discuss?"

Charlus paused and turned to face his grandson. "Your grandmother was against me telling you, but I feel that you have the right to know considering everything that has already happened."

Harry nodded and gestured for him to continue.

"Before we begin, I want to tell you that I have already shared all the information I know about the recent events at Hogwarts with Croaker. Amelia suggested that we bring in another experienced individual, and I selected Croaker because he possesses extensive knowledge in various obscure branches of magic. Also, the two of us are working together on the issue we are about to discuss here today."

Harry frowned as he glanced at Croaker. "I hope he's good at keeping secrets."

"I don't think anyone else needs to know," Croaker stated. "I've willingly sworn a magical vow to keep it a secret, even though it goes against the Ministry's laws. If I were to break the vow, I would lose my magic."

Harry nodded. That was all the reassurance he needed, and he trusted his grandfather,

"It involves Horcruxes," Charlus said. "Slytherin wasn't the only wizard who used the method to defy death. Someone much more recent has also used it."

Harry took a moment to grasp his grandfather's meaning. A hollow sensation spread through his stomach as he thought about the fact that the madman was still at large. "You are talking about Voldemort?"

"That is correct," Croaker stated. "I was called upon previously to inspect the Diadem due to the dark magic that emanated from it. I concluded that it was a Horcrux and determined it to be the property of Voldemort. The diadem had a nasty compulsion on it that forced the individual to wear it. Both you and Mr. Boot were fortunate to escape without experiencing any further negative consequences."

"Tell that to Terry," Harry muttered. He shuddered as he realised that Voldemort's influence had affected both of them, albeit only a fragment of his soul. Terry suffered more than Harry, as he had some resistance against the attack. "What is the difference between the Sorting Hat and the diadem? Why wasn't it showing the same signs?"

"I am unsure," Croaker admitted. "The process of creating a Horcrux involves a ritual. Salazer might have done something to mask the presence of the Sorting Hat from the castle wards. Unfortunately, I was unable to inquire about this matter directly with Salazer, as he wasn't interested in having a conversation with me."

"I won't pester him on your behalf," Harry said firmly, sensing Croakers' unspoken question in his eyes.

Croaker shrugged indifferently, showing no signs of concern. Harry doubted he would simply dismiss the opportunity so easily. After all, who wouldn't want to speak with one of the founders, even if their history is riddled with falsehoods?

Harry redirected the conversation back to the main topic. "You destroyed it, right? So now he has nothing that binds him to this world."

"It's not that simple," Charlus said somberly. He approached his grandson and rested a hand on his shoulder. "Voldemort has created multiple Horcruxes. Until we locate and eliminate them all, he will continue to cast a shadow over our lives like an ominous cloud.

Harry let out a frustrated groan. "This is just fantastic. Now I have to be constantly on guard, anticipating that someone else will come after me in the future."

"I won't allow anything to happen to you," Charlus declared, crouching down and locking eyes with his grandson. "He'll have to go through me first."

Harry averted his gaze, unaccustomed to seeing such genuine emotion in his grandfather's eyes.

"I suppose having my badass grandfather on my side does help," Harry quipped, attempting to ease the tension in the room. His demeanour abruptly changed as a thought struck him, causing his eyes to widen. "Do you think Quirrell is working with Voldemort?"

"Why do you think that?" Charlus asked sharply. Croaker tensed, leaning forward with interest.

"Consider this," Harry proposed. "Quirrell was responsible for releasing the Basilisk and murdering both the Master Artisan and the student. But what are the chances he possesses the ability to speak Parseltongue? Apart from myself, Voldemort is the only other person in Magical Britain with the same ability."

"True," Croaker replied, "though there may be more out there that we don't know about."

"Furthermore," Harry continued, "I have always suspected Peter Pettigrew may be working with him. It's just too coincidental that they are both causing mischief in the castle at the same time."

"But Voldemort is nothing more than a wraith," Charlus argued. "How would he remain undetected inside the castle? Surely the ghosts would have seen something? At least when they were still themselves and hadn't been influenced by Merlin."

Harry racked his brain, but he couldn't imagine how Voldemort could be inside the castle.

"You are on the right track," Croaker said, rubbing his jaw. "You simply need a little more knowledge to make the final connection. It's conceivable that he is possessing Quirrell, but that would imply he would essentially be a walking corpse, as his body would start to decay over time."

"The unicorn's blood!" Harry exclaimed, leaping up from his seat. "Someone has been attacking unicorns in the Forbidden Forest. And later, someone stole unicorn blood from Snape's quarters."

Croaker nodded. "It would have allowed Quirrell to preserve his body. However, by doing so, he would have condemned himself to a cursed existence, feeding on the blood of something so pure and innocent. In the end, I guess it didn't matter to him anymore, since he was already living on borrowed time."

Harry continued talking as if Croaker hadn't interrupted him. "It would make sense why he used an excessive amount of garlic. He must have been trying to mask the scent of his decaying body. And it would also explain why he held such animosity towards me. After all, why would he hold a grudge against a student that he didn't know before arriving at Hogwarts?"

"Was he the one that kidnapped Master Karlsson?" Charlus mused. "It's possible that he either carried out the act himself or enlisted the help of Peter Pettigrew."

"I would bet my galleons on Peter," Harry answered. "He can sneak around a lot easier than Quirrell."

"But why would he be here at Hogwarts?" Croaker asked. "Surely it's not just to get revenge on you? He had plenty of opportunities as a professor to eliminate you."

Harry shook his head. "He showed great interest in unravelling the secrets of the Enchanted Wall. Perhaps he had some inkling of its true nature and desired to exploit it for his own gain. This would certainly explain his motive for kidnapping Master Karlsson. Moreover, I witnessed his actions firsthand..."

"What do you mean?" Charlus asked sternly after Harry trailed off with a guilty expression.

"I ventured out one night and caught him examining the wall," Harry confessed.

Charlus stared at his grandson, flabbergasted. "It appears as if I am giving you too much freedom if you pull stunts like that. I will speak to your grandmother on this matter."

Harry gave him his most innocent expression. "I believe you are being unreasonable."

Croaker interrupted Charlus as the man looked like he was going to throttle Harry. "It's good now that we have identified the threat. But where would he be hiding?"

"Most likely the Forbidden Forest," Harry replied before another realisation struck him. "Dammit! He may have a way of getting into the castle undetected."

"What are you talking about?" Charlus demanded.

"In Salazer's chamber," Harry said. "There is a door protected by a parseltongue ward. I'm not entirely certain if it leads to the outside, but if it does, he could simply stroll right into the castle."

"Won't the headmaster be able to detect the entry now that he has regained control of them?"

"The founder's chambers are concealed from the wards, so he won't feel an intrusion," Harry replied.

"Then I will go speak to the headmaster and contact Amelia," Charlus said. "We will need to start searching the forest. But organising such a thing is going to be a headache. There are also acromantulas to deal with. It might be a good idea to speak with the centaurs first."

"I will notify them and get the ball rolling," Croaker said, rising to his feet. He pulled his hood back over his head. "You still have a class to teach."

Without another word, he swept out of the room.

"There are some other things I wanted to discuss with you," Charlus said.

"What is it?"

"Did Lauren approach you about doing an interview for her newspaper? The news about your Order of Merlin award has spread like wildfire. We are getting a lot of requests from other newspapers for interviews."

"Lauren did mention it. What am I supposed to say?" Harry grumbled. "Feed them the fake story you concocted?"

"Yes," Charlus said bluntly, "it wouldn't be good if the whole truth were to be revealed."

"If you're only going to fabricate the story, there was no need to involve me."

"You are the reason we were able to finish off Merlin," Charlus said. "I will not let your deeds go unrewarded."

Harry's brow furrowed. He couldn't comprehend why his grandfather was so insistent on this particular matter. What was the reason for pushing him into the spotlight? Harry didn't like all the attention. "I'd prefer to do an interview specifically with her newspaper and deny the rest."

"That's not going to work," Charlus informed him. "Like it or not, you are going to have to deal with them. There is also a lot of international attention. How about we set something up for tomorrow after the Quidditch match?"

"That sounds like a horrible idea," Harry cried. "There are going to be so many people at the game."

Charlus raised an eyebrow. "I can postpone it, or even tell them no altogether. But it is likely to make the reporters even more desperate. The sooner you nip this in the bud, the better."

Harry thought about it for a moment before finally conceding. However, he wanted to get some concessions from his grandfather. "I have one condition. You need to take me to Diagon Alley this Sunday so that I can visit the Artisan's Guild. My goal is to initiate the process of patenting and selling the appraisal scroll."

"Fine." Charlus nodded. He looked at his pocket watch. "I had another matter I wanted to discuss, but I don't want to keep you any longer. We can talk about it later."

Harry nodded and exited the room. On his descent to the Great Hall, he couldn't help but notice the curious gazes of every student he passed. The sensation of being scrutinised was far from enjoyable. This sentiment only grew stronger as he entered the Great Hall, where it seemed like every student turned their heads to fix their eyes on him. He sat next to Daphne, who offered him a sympathetic smile in response to his distress.

"Your heroic deeds may just earn you a new hyphenated name," Hermione smirked. "Perhaps the club should brainstorm some suggestions."

"My hero," Tracy bathed her eyelashes at him.

"It's going to take some time for things to settle down," Daphne said. "The students are curious about why you're being credited with saving them all."

"Wasn't my performance on the broom entertaining enough for them?" Harry scoffed, then redirected his attention to the rest of the Gryffindor table. "If all of you can't stop staring, I'll have the twins prank you until you are crying for mercy."

Initially, many of the students averted their gazes, although this didn't persist for long. They discreetly glanced at him from the corners of their eyes, all while attempting to eat their food. Unfortunately, this resulted in a mixture of amusing and revolting mishaps on the table. Among them, Ron proved to be the most egregious, as he accidentally spilled a plateful of eggs onto his lap.

"Harry, you sly troublemaker! Thanks for dragging us into some shenanigans," Fred said, grinning. "Normally, our services cost a lot of galleons, you know."

"However, we are prepared to offer you a substantial discount," George explained. "One could argue that you are entitled to the family discount as well."

"Mum was going on yesterday about how Harry Potter," Fred Weasley said, raising his voice and trying to imitate her voice, "should be named an honorary Weasley after saving her babies."

Laughter erupted from the table, causing Harry to huff in annoyance. He focused on eating his breakfast and tried to ignore the attention still fixed on him.

Luckily, things improved as the day progressed and everyone concentrated on their classes. The professors were determined to help their students focus on their studies without any more disruptions. After classes, Footshredder intercepted him and told him that their lessons would resume tomorrow, cautioning him not to let any more incidents disrupt them, lest there be consequences.

Harry hastily agreed. Footshredder appeared to be in a bad mood, so he chose not to aggravate his situation further.

5th February

Harry completed his exercises and experienced an unusual sense of relaxation instead of his usual exhaustion, much to the annoyance of his master. Adding to this annoyance was a crowd of onlookers, mainly girls, including Daphne and Susan, who watched his exercises with great interest. Harry tried not to feel overly self-conscious about the attention, especially as he wasn't wearing a shirt.

There were also people watching the activity from the Quidditch stands. As more spectators were expected, the stands were being expanded to accommodate the increased capacity. It had become a significant event, and even the Minister of Magic would be in attendance. Harry was going to see Gabrielle and her parents, as well as Daphne's family, whom he had missed while sleeping in the infirmary.

"Your grandfather informed me that your magical reserves have seen a substantial increase," Footshredder said.

"Is this going to be a problem?" Harry asked.

"No, but it's unusual," Footshredder said, eyeing him. "That kind of sudden increase shouldn't be possible without affecting your body. You must have encountered some extraordinary circumstances in the past couple of days."

Harry shifted, uncomfortable with his scrutiny.

"It doesn't matter," Footshredder scoffed. "I am just irritable because I'm not feeling particularly charitable towards your race right now."

"What did they do?" Harry asked. He picked up his shirt from the ground and put it on, ignoring the disappointed sighs of the girls watching them.

"You don't know?" Footshredder asked, surprised. "The school governors are meeting to discuss whether or not my student should continue as headmaster."

Harry's eyes narrowed. He suspected that individuals like Lucius Malfoy, a notorious bigot, were to blame for calling the meeting. The problem was that ousting Flitwick was entirely plausible, even though it wasn't his fault for the series of events that had taken place. Flitwick had inherited the position from Dumbledore and worked hard to clean up the mess he had left behind.

"When are they meeting?" Harry asked.

"Next week," Footshredder grunted. "I can't see how my student will be able to keep his job."

Harry nodded in agreement. "It's ridiculous. Flitwick is an amazing headmaster, and his first year in the role has been filled with turmoil, to say the least. I'm certain that bigots will exploit this opportunity to try and remove him from his position."

Footshredder nodded before changing the subject. "Before we wrap up for today, I would like to assess your current limit. Initially, when you demonstrated your abilities, you struggled with the third level. However, I believe you should be capable of surpassing that now."

"Alright," Harry paused and took a deep breath as he prepared to activate the mechanism within his mind. He decided to begin at level three and progress from there.

A surge of magic flooded Harry's body, and he immediately sprung into action. With his newfound agility, he effortlessly performed a variety of athletic feats, including cartwheels, backflips, handstands, and spinning kicks. Unlike his previous attempt, he now felt much more at ease, transitioning from one action to the next. After a minute of impressive performance, he stopped, releasing his Velocier ability. He ran his hand over his body, expecting to feel the familiar ache in his muscles, but there was nothing.

The crowd responded with a polite pause, showing their appreciation for his performance.

"How do you feel?" Footshredder asked.

"I don't feel any pain," Harry exclaimed. "It's as if I didn't use the skill at all."

He checked his magical reserves, and thanks to the boost he had received, he still had plenty of magic to use.

"It appears that your hard work has paid off," Footshredder grunted with satisfaction. Bending down, he pulled a rod from a bag and threw it to Harry.

Harry caught it and nearly dropped it, surprised by how heavy it was for its size. It must be made from extremely dense metal.

"It's not worth anything to spin about like a fool and flaunt yourself in front of your adoring fans," Footshredder said. "Instead, I challenge you to use the skill to try and land a hit on me."

"Are you sure?" Harry asked dubiously. "This rod can do a lot of damage."

"You speak as if you have a chance of hitting me," Footshredder snorted.

Harry refused to back down. He charged towards Footshredder, activating his skill again and aiming a strike at his shoulder. However, his strike missed completely, causing the rod to hit the ground, and a jarring impact to shoot through his arm. His master had easily avoided the attack. In retaliation, he planted a foot in Harry's rear, kicking him to the ground.

The crowd of girls burst out laughing. Harry stood up and realised it was Daphne who was encouraging the girls to laugh at him. She blew him a kiss.

Footshredder kicked his shins. "Don't get distracted by your mate. Continue."

Harry blushed with embarrassment, but he followed the command. For the next few minutes, he relentlessly attacked the goblin. However, despite his efforts, he couldn't land a single hit. To Harry's eyes, the goblin appeared to be moving at a similar pace to him. Yet, the goblin's body movements were so fluid that Harry found himself unable to keep up with them.

Harry increased his Velocier skill to level four to improve his chances, but he quickly realised his mistake. Although his body could handle the increased speed, he struggled to make full use of it. After another minute of futile efforts, he collapsed to the ground, completely exhausted.

"Pathetic," Footshredder said, standing over his body and sneering.

"I am not sure what you are trying to prove, Master. It's obvious that I wouldn't be able to defeat you at my current level."

"I was just making sure you don't become too arrogant," Footshredder grinned. "That's all for today. Tomorrow, we'll move our training inside the castle for some privacy. I'll begin teaching you my technique, and I prefer not to have an audience."

Harry's face lit up. "I have the perfect location where we can practice."

Quidditch had resumed its regular schedule. Harry took a seat among his friends in the crowded room and immersed himself in the electric atmosphere. The stands were packed with students and adults eagerly awaiting the two games scheduled for the day. Rather than space the games out, they were scheduled to be played consecutively. However, each game had a six-hour time limit to ensure they finished even if the snitch wasn't caught.

In the opening match, Gryffindor faced off against Hufflepuff. Following the initial round of matches from last semester, Slytherin secured the top spot by defeating Gryffindor. Hufflepuff, in second place, defeated Ravenclaw in a thrilling match thanks to Cedric Diggory capturing the snitch.

Today was the first match in which Madam Hooch applied the new rules. To ensure an even playing field for showcasing their abilities, each team was required to use the same type of broom. At first, the players pushed back against this requirement. They argued that using a standard broom wouldn't work for everyone because each position was different. However, Madam Hooch dismissed their claim, asserting that the broom she chose was well-balanced and would ensure a fair contest regardless.

Lee was commenting today without the presence of Harry's grandmother. Instead, Ludo Bagman from the Department of Magical Games and Sports was there to accompany him.

"Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to the second round of the Hogwarts Quidditch Cup," Lee Jordan announced. "Today's first match pits Gryffindor against Hufflepuff. A victory for Gryffindor is critical if they want to stay in contention for the cup. I would like to extend a warm welcome to the Minister of Magic and everyone who has come to watch this exciting game. Given the recent events, I believe we all deserve this opportunity to relax and have some fun, right?

The audience applauded, agreeing with that sentiment.

"Ludo Bagman is joining me on commentary today," Lee continued. "I am sure he doesn't need an introduction, folks. Would you like to say a few words, Mr Bagman?"

"Thank you, Mr. Jordan," Bagman's loud voice echoed through the stadium. "It seems like this is going—"

Oliver Wood rushed out of the stadium entrance, interrupting him. Madam Hooch approached Wood and spoke with him. Even from a distance, Harry could see her dissatisfied expression. After their conversation, she raised her wand and cast the Sonorous Charm.

"I apologise, ladies and gentlemen," Madam Hooch announced. "Unfortunately, the Gryffindor Seeker is unwell and unable to participate in today's game. Consequently, Gryffindor must concede the match, resulting in a default victory for Hufflepuff."

"No!" Tracy wailed, but her voice was immediately drowned out by a chorus of boos from the crowd, expressing their deep disappointment. The wave of discontent grew louder and more intense, with some individuals even resorting to throwing objects onto the field to demonstrate their displeasure.

The Minister of Magic rose from his seat to speak with the headmaster and professors. He then cast his own Sonorous Charm to address the audience. "Everyone, please remain calm. I am also not pleased with the prospect of cancelling one of today's Quidditch matches. We came up with a solution. If the Gryffindor Captain can find a replacement within the next fifteen minutes, the game will go on."

Oliver Wood appeared ecstatic, his eyes quickly scanning the crowd as if looking for someone in particular. Harry had a bad feeling, which was confirmed when Oliver locked eyes with him. The captain then turned to Madam Hooch and spoke to her.

"The captain has chosen Harry Potter as the replacement Seeker," Madam Hooch announced, casting an apologetic look towards Harry.

"Harry, you need to do this for the Gryffindor team," Tracy grabbed his robes and shook him.

His other friends stared at him with wide eyes. Harry felt both surprised and angry at Oliver for putting him on the spot. To make matters worse, the crowd had started chanting his name.

"Potter! Potter! Potter!"

It felt like a setup. What were the chances that the Seeker had fallen ill just before the game? Harry looked towards his grandparents. They shrugged, looking helpless at the situation unfolding before them.

"Mr Potter," Madam Hooch said. "If you are going to accept the offer, then you need to make your way to the Gryffindor changing rooms."

Harry sighed and stood up. As much as he felt pushed into the situation, he wasn't willing to defy the crowd and go from hero to villain. His girlfriends hugged him before he made his way down the stairs. The crowd rose and cheered him as they realised that he was going to play.

When he arrived at the changing rooms, he slammed the door open and found the entire Gryffindor team waiting for him. Their nervous expressions were visible, with the exception of the twins, who appeared as irrepressible as ever.

"Did all of you plan this?" Harry gave them a furious look.

The chasers shook their heads and then pointed to Oliver.

"It wasn't my fault," Oliver said, raising his hands defensively. "Marcus approached me and expressed his desire to withdraw when he learned about the large crowd we were going to play in front of."

Harry inhaled deeply before speaking. "I haven't even had the chance to participate in a game yet. I am going to look ridiculous out there."

"Harrikins!" The twins looked at him in disbelief, as if to point out how absurd he sounded.

"Where is my uniform?" Harry finally asked, and Oliver grinned. He handed Harry the red and gold uniform and then went to change.

Harry followed the Gryffindor team into the stadium, the crowd roaring in the background. Lee announced their names as they circled the stadium. A curious feeling arose in him and he could feel the blood surging in his veins. He had underestimated the feeling of flying above the crowd. The atmosphere in the crowd had already been electric, but this experience took it to another level.

As the Hufflepuff team entered the stadium, Harry positioned himself high above the other players to get a good vantage point to look for the snitch. While Harry was getting ready, Oliver had given him instructions on how to play the position. It was simple: he needed to find the Snitch, keep an eye on the opposing Seeker, and watch out for any Bludgers that came flying his way.

Madam Hooch released the balls and blew the whistle. The game had commenced.

So, what do you think? In the next chapter, Harry plays his first Quidditch match, but their game is going to have an unexpected visitor.

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