Harry Potter, Dark Lord of Wizarding Britain
Harry's body laid on the cold stone floor of the vault, his mind submerged in a sea of memories not his own. Visions of civilizations rising and falling, of ancient magic, flowed through his consciousness until the visions stopped and he found himself back in the vault, somehow standing in front of an extremely old wizard.
"Ah, another Potter comes before me. Welcome Harry," the old man said. His eyes held a spark of recognition, as if he had been waiting for this moment for centuries.
Harry gazed at the old wizard before him. Something about the man's presence felt familiar, "Who are you?" he demanded.
The old man smiled, "I am known as Merlin, a guardian of arcane knowledge and the keeper of magical history. It is an honor to meet you, Harry."
"What is this book I touched?" Harry asked, surprised by the ancient wizard's appearance, "Some sort of device you created?"
Merlin shook his head slowly, "No, I did not create the book," he paused for a moment, creating a sort of hologram of the book in front of Harry, "It was created by Ignotus Peverell, the original holder of your Cloak."
"What does it do? Why is it important?" Harry asked, looking at the hologram.
Merlin smiled as he explained, "This book is not an ordinary one, Harry. It's called the 'Chronicle of Death.' It contains the collective knowledge and memories of those who have wielded the Deathly Hallows throughout history, and it has been entrusted to my care to guide the one who possesses them."
"What do you mean? Does this book contain all the knowledge of Grindelwald? Dumbledore?" Harry asked, astonished at the potential knowledge in front of him.
Merlin nodded solemnly. "Yes, Harry. The Chronicle of Death holds the wisdom of wizards and witches who have shaped the course of magical history, including the likes of Grindelwald and Dumbledore. Their experiences, their triumphs, and their mistakes are recorded within its pages. It is a repository of both light and darkness, meant to serve as a guide for the one chosen to wield the Deathly Hallows."
"Does it contain your memories? Morgana's? The spells and ancient magic that you could wield?"
Merlin smiled softly, as if he was looking upon a pupil of his, "It contains my memories as well, Harry, along with those of other great magical figures, including Morgana. The spells and ancient magic that have shaped our world are woven into this tome. It holds the key to lost incantations, forgotten enchantments, and the untapped potential of the Deathly Hallows."
Harry smirked greedily, this was more than he could ever have imagined, "This is incredible. But why is it called the 'Chronicle of Death'? Is it only accessible to a wielder of a Hallow?"
Merlin's expression grew more serious, "No, anyone can read the book, this is why it was hidden away. Ignotus didn't want the most powerful book in the world to fall into the wrong hands. The 'Chronicle of Death' is a record of the pivotal moments in the history of magic, where the Hallows played a crucial role. It also serves as a warning about the dangers of pursuing power without understanding the consequences."
"Yeah, yeah. I get it. Drink responsibly." Harry said as he forced the conversation to end and returned to the room. He gazed upon the book for a moment before lifting the heavy tome from the pedestal and being portkeyed back to his original vault, "Dobby, put everything in my truck including this tome. Let's try to get out of here within an hour. Then we are off to the wand shop to steal every wand I didn't destroy! Potions too! Westeros doesn't have any magical plants or seeds…" He began to ramble as he remembered everything his world didn't have. Potions ingredients, magical beasts, wand materials… Lots to steal and very little time.
Outside Gringotts, 1 Hour and Thirty Minutes Later
Dean Thomas, Director of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement
Dean watched silently as barriers and barricades were set up outside Gringotts Bank in anticipation for Dark Lord to make his exit. They couldn't enter the bank thanks to the previous minister who had tried to smooth things over with the goblins by giving them sovereignty over their bank. Thus, here they were, waiting.
There seemed like most of the Auror department was there, probably at least 200 Aurors and Hit Wizards. Most in overtime pay which was going to cost a fortune, but hopefully it would be worth it and Potter would be dead once he left the bank.
With a lurch, the heavy, ornate doors creaked softly as they swung open. All the Aurors scrambled into their positions as they waited for anyone to exit. Ten Seconds... Twenty... Thirty... A minute until the doors slowly closed again. The Aurors looked around confused before Dean realized... Harry had an invisibility cloak! He had outsmarted them. Dean also knew that it meant that Harry could be anywhere among them, invisible and unpredictable.
Dean barked orders for the Aurors to remain on high alert, wands at the ready, "Watch your backs! He could be anywhere!" He was no longer waiting for his enemy to walk into an ambush, but facing an unseen adversary who would now have the advantage.
As the Aurors scrambled to maintain their positions and watch for any sign of the invisible Dark Lord, chaos suddenly erupted within their own ranks. A young, rookie Auror began to cast explosive spells and unleash killing curses on his comrades, seemingly hell-bent on causing as much damage as possible.
Dean's heart sank as he realized what had transpired. Harry had used the Imperius Curse on the young Auror, manipulating him to attack his fellow Aurors.
Panic spread among the Aurors as they struggled to defend themselves against the unexpected assault from their own colleague. Shields were summoned to protect against the rogue Auror's attacks as stunners began flying in return.
Dean shouted commands to his subordinates, "Subdue him! Try to break the Imperius! Don't use lethal force!" It was a tall ask however as seven Aurors now lay dead to the blue-on-blue attack.
Amid the frantic efforts to subdue their controlled colleague, another Auror suddenly succumbed to Harry's imperius. His eyes glazed over as he turned to face his comrades, his wand turning green as more Aurors fell.
Dean watched in despair as the second Auror unleashed deadly curses against his friends. The toll of the battle was rapidly rising, and Dean needed to act, quickly. He aimed his wand at one of the rogue Aurors and cast the Killing Curse, easily cutting through the Aurors shield and impacting his side. Sadly, ending one of his own.
The other Aurors seemed to understand as several others fired killing curses at the new threat, putting it down. Dean surveyed the damage, fifteen Aurors killed, including the two 'traitors'. At least fifteen were wounded. It was death by a thousand cuts...
Dean raised his voice above the moans of pain, shouting commands to his remaining Aurors, "Retreat! Fall back, now!" The Aurors didn't need a second order. They had been attacked by their own from an enemy they couldn't even see. Many disapparated immediately, leaving only a hand full to take the wounded to St. Mungos.
Once they had all retreated back to the Ministry, luckily suffering no more friendly fire incidents, Dean made his way to the interrogation rooms where Hermione had set up some interviews after the DLME attack.
Dean entered silently, looking intently at the man sitting in the interrogation room. He was a simple greeter, his only job to direct citizens if they needed assistance. Yet, he was the only one to have supposedly spoken to Potter before his attack on the DMLE.
The door to the room creaked open. Revealing a rigid Hermione, obviously not coping well with her husband's kidnapping, "So, explain to me the events as you remember them."
The young man began, "I was at my station directly before and after the attack. Right before the attack began, I observed a man arrive into the atrium from a lower floor."
"Only one?" She asked.
"Yes."
"Continue."
"He looked confused, but I wasn't going to help him until he approached my desk. I asked what I could help with. He then asked if I spoke French in French. I do not." The man continued, "I let him know that and then he asked me another question in French. I'm not sure what he asked but he said 'Ronald Weasley', so I directed him to the Auror offices."
Hermione's expression remained focused as she listened, "Did you catch anything specific about his appearance? Any distinguishing features, clothing, or any peculiar behaviors?"
The greeter shook his head, "He looked like an ordinary wizard, nothing stood out. He was wearing dark robes, though, which is pretty common."
"Did you notice any magical activity or any signs of danger?"
He frowned, "I didn't notice anything unusual until the explosion happened. By then, he had already gone upstairs."
Hermione leaned forward, her tone serious, "Did you hear or see anything else that might help us identify this individual's whereabouts?"
The man's brow furrowed in concentration, "There was one thing... Right before he left, I heard them say 'Something' as he entered the floo. So that was likely his destination."
Hermione's eyes widened at the mention of Something, "Did you just try the say where he went but couldn't?" She asked.
"I said, 'Something'." He said again, his mouth betraying him, "Something! I guess, I'm trying to say it but my mouth refuses.
"Well, that means it's hidden by a Fidelius charm," she said, "Thank you for your cooperation. We will continue our investigation. Please remain available for further questioning if needed. Please send in the next witness."
The greeter slid out from his chair and left the room, allowing another woman to enter. A Department of Mysteries employee, Lana, was just an administrative assistant who had supposedly interacted with Harry in the Department of Mysteries. She had just been transferring some files to a file cabinet when she spoke with them.
"Hi Hermione," the kind young woman said as she took her seat, "What can I help you with?"
"Good afternoon, Lana, I trust you have heard of the attack on the DLME yesterday?" Hermione asked as she shuffled the papers in front of her.
"Of course," She nodded.
"Well, we pulled the elevator logs, and they came from the Department of Mysteries before the attack. Since you were the only one there at the time, can you tell me if you saw anything?"
"There was a man down there without his badge. I informed him that he would need to go get it if he wanted to be down there." Lana said, puzzled by her question.
Hermione looked up in surprise, "Did you see him enter the Department or just leave?"
"I only saw him leave. He was coming from the Death Room."
Hermione felt a knot forming in her stomach. "He came from the death room?"
Lana's eyebrows furrowed, "Yes, Hermione, he came from the Death Room."
Hermione's thoughts raced as she tried to make sense of her words... How could someone have entered the Ministry directly from the Department of Mysteries Death Room...
"And what about his behavior?" Hermione continued, "Did he seem agitated or in a hurry?"
Lana shook her head, "No, he seemed serious... Perhaps in a hurry, but not agitated."
Hermione nodded, taking note of the information, "And did he interact with anyone else while he was there, aside from you?"
Lana shook her head, "No, I didn't see him talking to anyone else."
Hermione leaned forward, her expression earnest, "Lana, I truly appreciate your cooperation. If you remember anything else, no matter how small, please don't hesitate to let us know."
Lana nodded, a mixture of worry and curiosity on her face. "Of course, Hermione. I hope everything gets resolved soon. If there's anything I can do to assist further, please don't hesitate to ask."
As Lana left the room, Hermione was left with a swirling mixture of thoughts. Dean's voice cut through her thoughts, "Harry attacked Diagon Alley, turned Aurors against us with the Imperius. We had to retreat."
"That's... He never did that before. He usually just attacks head on. I wonder why." She said, racking her brain for answers.
"We had most of the department there. Much harder to attack head on." Dean responded, "Any word from our spies on Potter supporters?"
"Our spy in the Magical Roman Empire reported that Draco asked for a leave of absence from the Emperor..." Hermione responded.
"Then we can assume Draco is in Britain." Dean replied, "Doesn't matter right now. We need to focus on finding out where Potter went. I don't remember anywhere Harry even visited during school besides with the muggles in Surrey."
"It's likely under the Fidelius charm if we don't remember it. It won't be in any books or maps... We would need to capture the secret keeper, which is probably Harry anyway..." Hermione said ruefully.
"Then we wait... He will come out eventually." Dean nodded and left the room, leaving Hermione to her thoughts about what had become of Ron... She shuddered to think that he might already be dead. She let a tear silently fall down her cheek before taking a deep breath and gathering her papers up to leave.
Draco Malfoy
Draco confidently strode up Grimmauld Place Road towards the hidden #12. He slowed as he counted the numbers, taking in his surroundings and watching for ministry agents.
Ten… Eleven… Thirteen. Malfoy stopped and took out his wand and tapped it on the brick wall between number eleven and thirteen, muttering a spell under his breath. A loud creaking sound echoed as the bricks shifted and a narrow door appeared, leading to number twelve. He quickly opened it and entered the old house.
He entered the dark and dusty hallway of Grimmauld Place, feeling a wave of nostalgia and sadness wash over him. Draco had been one of Harry's most ardent supporters during his reign and had spent many days inside this house with him, planning and strategizing...
He closed the door and cast a quick charm to hopefully make sure no one could follow him.
He decided to work from the top of the house to the bottom, thus he ascended the dusty, dimly lit stairs to the 3rd floor. The place contained an eerie atmosphere, a mixture of darkness and sadness that seemed to seep from every nook and cranny. Although Draco had been here before his Grandfather Black had died, the walls seemed different. Almost as if the house knew of his mission and supported him.
When he reached the landing. Draco began to search the 3rd floor, but as he carefully examined each room and ran his hands along the walls, he couldn't seem to find the study that Harry had mentioned. The old Black family home was known for its hidden rooms and secret passages, yet finding the specific one Harry had in mind was proving to be a challenging task.
Draco's footsteps echoed in the quiet house as he opened doors and peered into the dark rooms. He finally stumbled upon Sirius's old room, mostly destroyed and in terrible shape. For a moment Draco wondered what Sirius would have thought about Harry now, but he pushed those away. Realizing that the study wasn't on this floor, Draco crept down the stairs back to the second floor.
As he explored, he found a library full of old books, a drawing room with a large fireplace and mounted house-elf heads, a bedroom with a four-poster bed and a canopy of stars, and a bathroom with a stained-glass window depicting mermaids. He also encountered several unpleasant surprises, such as a portrait of Sirius' mother that screamed insults at him, a doorknob that bit his hand when he tried to open it, and a wardrobe that tried to swallow him whole.
He was about to give up when he noticed a small door at the end of the corridor. It was barely visible, hidden behind a tapestry of a unicorn. He pulled aside the tapestry and tried to open the door, but it was locked. He pointed his wand at it and said, "Alohomora!"
The lock clicked in refusal... Draco huffed in annoyance and grabbed onto the knob, turned it, and gave a firm push. He suddenly felt a stabbing pain in his hand as the door swung open, revealing a small and cozy study. He pulled his hand away, looking at the visible cut that had proven his loyalty.
The room was filled with shelves of books, scrolls, maps, and various objects that looked like they belonged in a museum. There was a desk with an inkwell and quill, a fireplace with a crackling fire, and an armchair with a cushion. To be honest, it surprised him there was still a fire after all this time, but magic is an interesting beast itself.
Draco stepped inside, feeling a surge of excitement. He had found it! This must be Sirius' secret study! He quickly scanned the room for any sign of Harry's horcrux, hoping it would be something obvious like a locket or a ring.
He saw nothing that matched that description but did see something else that caught his eye. On the desk, there was a small wooden box with intricate carvings on it. It looked old and valuable, like an antique. Draco felt drawn to it, as if it was calling out to him.
He walked over to the desk and picked up the box, feeling its weight and examined it closely, trying to decipher the carvings on it. They seemed to depict scenes from ancient history or mythology, but he couldn't recognize any of them.
He slowly opened the box, curious about what was inside. To his surprise, there was something shiny and metallic inside. It was a coin, simply made of gold, but yet had strange symbols on both sides.
On one side, there was an image of an eagle with spread wings and claws holding a wreath and a scepter. Above it was an inscription that read "SPQR". On the other side, there was an image of a man wearing a laurel wreath and a toga. He had a stern expression and a beard. Above him was an inscription that read "CAESAR".
Draco chuckled, recognizing the coin. It was a Roman coin. Fitting... He thought. Julius Caesar, betrayed by his friends and murdered by his enemies just like Harry... He turned the coin over, looking for any sign of dark magic, yet feeling nothing but the coin's rough surface. It seemed to be an ordinary coin, except for its age and rarity.
He was about to put it back in the box when he heard footsteps outside the door. He quickly hid behind the desk, clutching the coin and box in his hands.
It was quiet for a moment before the door to the study slowly swung open with a loud creaking noise. He remained silent, hoping it was Neville but not believing it was. As he waited, his fears were confirmed as he heard two sets of footsteps against the hardwood floors.
One of them muttered as they shuffled in, "I swear I heard something in here."
Draco pressed himself further into the shadows behind the desk, doing his best to blend in with the dark wood.
The two Aurors entered the study cautiously, their wands casting shadows on the walls. They seemed rather clumsy, bumping into furniture and knocking over a stack of parchment, "What are you doing?" One asked the other as the one who had knocked over the parchment had begun to pick it up, "Don't worry about it, nobody lives here..."
They seemed to look around for a while, picking up assorted objects and looking at old scrolls. One of the Aurors, a young man with an obvious lack of experience, picked up a random scroll and said, "What are we even doing here? I doubt the Dark Lord would even come back to this place... The ministry raided it at least five times during the war."
His companion, a middle-aged witch who looked equally unsure, shook her head. "I doubt they will, but you never know. With his return, we could never be too careful."
Just as they were getting dangerously close to the desk where Draco was hiding, the young Auror reached out and accidentally knocked a stack of books off a nearby shelf. The loud thud and clatter of falling books echoed through the room hiding Draco's whispered disillusionment charm.
"What the hell are you doing?" The woman asked, "How are you this clumsy? It's impressive you made it through training."
"Hey! I am more a man of action rather than an investigator." He said as he stacked the books back up, "Did you search this place during the war?"
"No, that was the senior Aurors' job at the time." She responded, looking at a map of the magical world from 1775 that adorned the wall. As the young Auror finally managed to restack the fallen books, albeit with a disgruntled expression on his face, he said, "Well, I hope whatever we're looking for is worth all this trouble."
"You never know," she replied absentmindedly, "Sometimes, valuable information is hidden in the most unexpected places."
Draco couldn't help but feel frustrated. They were wasting his time with their search when they didn't even realize that they were in a room that had never been searched to begin with... He huffed quietly as she thought of a way to make them leave so he could get back to Potter Manor.
He smirked to himself when he realized the spell he could use... Quietly, he whispered a very obscure incantation that created a faint and eerie whispering sound in the room. The Aurors exchanged nervous glances as the whispering seemed to come from all directions and they both simultaneously raised their wands.
"Did you hear that?" The male asked, his voice trembling.
His companion nodded, her eyes darting around the room, "It's probably just the house playing tricks on us. The Blacks were a dangerous bunch... Let's just finish up and get out of here."
Draco continued to manipulate the whispers, making them grow louder and more unsettling.
"We should go," he urged, glancing over his shoulder as if expecting something to materialize out of thin air.
The older witch nodded in agreement. "Agreed. This place is giving me the creeps."
With that, they hastily abandoned their search and left the study, closing the door behind them. Draco breathed a sigh of relief as he listened to them retreat down the corridor. He slowly stood from his hiding spot and made his way to the door, pressing his ear to it to hear if they left. A few seconds later, their retreat was confirmed as the front door slammed closed.
He waited for a few more moments to ensure the Aurors were well and truly gone before cautiously opening the study door and exiting into the corridor. His eyes shifted along the hallway, ensuring that he was alone before he began to head back towards the ground floor.
As he descended the stairs, Draco's attention returned to the Roman coin. He glanced down at the box and felt something emanating from it, but it didn't remind him of any Horcrux he had ever encountered before. It didn't seem to want to control his actions or change his attitude like Voldemort's had... It just seemed... Calm, yet extremely powerful.
Reaching the bottom of the stairs, he looked up to see an all too familiar face...
"Hello Draco..."
AN: We will be back to Westeros soon, just need to wreak some havoc in Britain.