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HRHL# Chapter 97: Veratia's Teaching
🕑 Added 2025-02-14 04:17:16 +0000 UTCFragments of memory surged like a tidal wave, and he seemed to see scenes from his childhood.
It was still that same house, those same people…
His mother held bread and wine in her hands, distributing them to the guests.
"Bug, have some more bread."
Harry saw a complex expression in his mother's eyes, something between a sigh and sorrow.
"Perhaps… you'll never have the chance to eat bread baked by me again."
He saw the chubby young man let out a sob and nod forcefully.
The memory shifted again, and he heard his father’s urgent shout.
"Run! Lily! Run!"
Then came the heavy sound of a body collapsing on the staircase.
He sat in the cradle, facing his mother, who bore a resolute expression.
"Harry, Mommy loves you. Daddy loves you. Mommy hopes you will live safely, healthily, and strongly… Mommy loves you, my baby…"
A voice, sharp and cruel like an owl’s screech, rang out, and a green light filled the entire room.
"Avada Kedavra!"
It was unclear how much time had passed before he saw a young Snape walk into the room.
When Snape saw Lily’s lifeless body on the floor, he collapsed weakly, his expression shifting from disbelief to regret, and finally to utter despair.
This was the first time Harry had seen Snape cry. Not even when his father had humiliated him by suspending him in the air had Snape shed tears…
"No! Lily!"
He clutched Lily’s body, screaming in agony.
Time blurred again, and Harry noticed that Snape had disappeared.
From outside the door, another voice, filled with grief, called out.
"Fork! Fork!"
After a while, when it seemed the person had cried enough, Harry heard them stand up.
"I will kill him! I will kill him!"
…
"Harry! Harry!"
Veratia’s voice rang in Harry’s ears.
He came back to his senses, realizing that at some point, tears had covered his face.
"I’m sorry, I’m sorry…" Veratia murmured. "Harry… this was the only way I had…"
Harry remained silent, the scene of Voldemort murdering his parents still Veratiad in his mind.
Seeing Harry like this, Veratia felt helpless for the first time in her life.
Just as she thought he would blame her, he spoke first.
"Veratia, I don’t blame you," he said. "In fact, if it weren’t for your help, I wouldn’t have survived… My parents were no match for Voldemort."
In the portrait, Veratia could no longer hold back her emotions. She covered her face and sobbed bitterly.
"Perhaps this spell is also the reason I could travel through time," he mused. "If I hadn’t studied at Hogwarts a hundred years ago, I wouldn’t have met the friends of the Order of the Phoenix. A few days ago, when I faced Voldemort, I might have been killed—"
"And I wouldn’t have met you," he added.
For a moment, Veratia’s eyes were as gentle as water.
"Harry…"
"The most urgent matter now is to rescue you," Harry said, lifting his head to look at Veratia. "I think I should move quickly—do you know where I can find a basilisk?"
Veratia fell silent for a moment, seemingly in deep thought.
After a long pause, she said, "Back when we were still at Hogwarts, I once heard someone in Hogsmeade mention that in Greece, people were breeding such creatures—but a hundred years have passed, and magical creature regulations have become stricter. I don’t know where you’d find a basilisk now."
Hearing this, Harry recalled that back in Hogsmeade, the villagers had indeed discussed basilisks, and even the newspapers had reported on them at the time.
He hadn’t paid much attention back then. After all, he was just a Gryffindor, with no particular fascination with snakes—despite being a Parselmouth.
Speaking of discovering his Parseltongue abilities, it was connected to Ominis. For that reason, Ominis had even dragged Harry to test his blood to see if he was a lost descendant of the Gaunt family.
It wasn’t that he wanted Harry to acknowledge his ancestry. Given the twisted atmosphere of the Gaunt family, Ominis didn’t want Harry to be involved—he just longed for a somewhat normal brother.
The results had left him somewhat disappointed yet also relieved. But from then on, he and Harry had grown much closer.
Harry nodded in understanding. "I see. Leave this to me—don’t worry, we’ll see each other again soon."
"Mhm." Veratia then asked, "How is everyone else? You know, I left school not long after you disappeared, so I have no news of them."
"No… I… I only know that Gareth has passed away," Harry said dejectedly.
"Time is the cruelest force," Veratia seemed to lament.
Suddenly, Harry said, "Oh, right, Veratia! I saw Poppy! Do you remember—Poppy Sweeting from Hufflepuff?"
"Of course I remember. She was the one who helped hang my portrait in the Map Chamber," Veratia said softly.
"But… she doesn’t seem to be doing well. When I saw her, she was being chased by Voldemort. I was the one who saved her—"
As he spoke, he recalled that Poppy was now a unicorn and told Veratia, "Oh, right, Poppy learned magic Animagus. She turned into a unicorn and can’t change back anymore…"
There was a brief silence between them.
"So she really used that spell…" Veratia looked at Harry with a complex expression. "I warned her long ago that transforming into a magical Animagus was dangerous. Even though unicorns are long-lived magical creatures, it’s not something a mere human can easily achieve."
"But she succeeded, didn’t she?" Harry shrugged. "Though she can’t turn back. That’s quite a problem. When you return, we’ll find a way to turn Poppy human again."
"Alright." Veratia nodded. "I have a theory, but I need to see Poppy first to confirm it."
"I knew it—you always have a way." Harry smiled again.
Seeing Veratia felt so good. Harry felt like his intelligence had returned—though it was technically borrowed intelligence.
Before meeting Veratia, their friend group’s "external brain" had been Sebastian… But Sebastian’s so-called "brilliant ideas" (as Ominis put it) often had a way of landing them all in Azkaban.
"Oh, right, Harry," Veratia spoke again. "Your wand—holly, phoenix feather, eleven inches—is placed behind my portrait. It’s also the key to our vault at Gringotts."
Harry stood up and walked over, examining Veratia’s portrait up close. He reached out and touched it.
Unlike the real Veratia, the portrait felt rough and cold.
"Hurry up and take your wand!" Veratia huffed, her face flushing slightly. "This is just a portrait…"
Harry’s face reddened too. He hadn’t meant anything by it—he just thought Veratia looked… lonely, yes, lonely!
Hurriedly, he retrieved his wand from behind the portrait, but he noticed that the tip now had a blood-red gemstone, with red vein-like patterns spiraling down to the base.
"What happened? Why does my wand look like this?" Harry asked in curiosity.
He remembered that the last time he had used his holly wand, it hadn’t been like this.
“After you left, the wand was stuck in Ranrock's corpse,” Veratia said, still holding the book in her arms. “By the time I pulled it out, it had already become like this—this is the Gringotts token. But I must warn you, when the goblins see this wand... they might have a bit of a bad reaction.”
“Oh.” Harry waved the wand, feeling his old friend vibrating joyfully in his hand.
He paid little attention to what Veratia had just said. Just a small “bad reaction”—nothing to worry about. The goblins at Gringotts had seen all sorts of things; they surely wouldn’t mind.
Tucking the wand into his robes, Harry leaned against a rock, intending to chat with Veratia for a bit to ease his not-so-calm thoughts.
Casually, he said, “By the way, Veratia, have you heard about Gellert?”
“What?” Veratia asked.
“It’s just—um.” Harry organized his thoughts before speaking to Veratia. “It’s about... our current headmaster, Professor Albus Dumbledore. In 1945, he defeated your brother, Gellert, and imprisoned him in Nurmengard Castle...”
“Oh, that? I’ve heard about it,” Veratia said with a sweet smile. “My foolish little Gell... To think he was actually defeated, and his story even ended up on a Chocolate Frog card. The Grindelwald family's reputation has been completely disgraced!”
Though she was smiling, Harry, who knew her well, could tell she was furious.
“Huh?” Harry asked curiously. “How do you know about things from the outside world?”
Veratia lowered her gaze to him and said, “Of course, it was Lily who told me. After she first entered the Map Chamber, I asked her about many things happening outside...”
Harry suddenly felt his throat go dry.
He realized that, to send him messages and wait for his return, this girl had infused her own memories into the portrait. More than a hundred years had passed.
His days with the Dursleys had felt endless. He couldn’t begin to imagine the loneliness Veratia had endured in this chamber.
“Veratia,” he said, “a hundred years in the Map Chamber... it must have been unbearable, right?”
“It wasn’t too bad,” Veratia replied lightly. “Waiting may be tedious, but the moment you see results, you realize the wait wasn’t in vain.”
After a pause, she added, “This portrait is merely a copy of my memories. To the me in the Slytherin study, all of this was just a fleeting moment.”
“But...” Veratia suddenly gave a dangerously sweet smile. “You must remember to tell that version of me about Gellert.”
“Uh? What do you mean?” Harry felt a chill run down his spine.
A very bad feeling crept over him. A very, very bad feeling.
The last time Veratia had smiled so gently yet so dangerously was when he and Sebastian secretly learned the Cruciatus Curse.
Before bringing him to the Slytherin study, she had smiled like this the entire way.
And when they arrived at the study, Veratia had made him use the Cruciatus Curse on her.
[No, Veratia, I can’t...]
[Only by casting the Cruciatus Curse on me can we unlock the Slytherin study—otherwise, we’ll both be trapped here.]
[Crucio!]
The girl before him let out a muffled groan, and the searing pain of the curse surged into Harry's mind as well.
No, there was nothing enjoyable about this...
Harry saw that, under the torment of the curse, blood had already seeped from the corner of the girl’s lips.
[Veratia, I...—]
Before Harry could finish speaking, he saw Veratia suddenly lift her head, her gaze piercing into him, a wild, almost frenzied smile curling at her lips.
[Harry Potter—the feeling of inflicting pain... isn’t it just wonderful? Hahaha...]
She grabbed Harry's collar, her other hand trembling yet firm as she grasped the hand holding his wand and pressed it against her throat.
The delicate curve of her neck now bore a slight indentation from the wand’s tip.
[Keep going,] she said. [Salazar never taught you the true essence of the Cruciatus Curse, but I will.]
[Me.]
Ever since then, Harry had never dared to use the Cruciatus Curse again—except in the Forbidden Forest that one time, and that had been to transfer pain.
“Harry? Harry?”
Hearing Veratia call his name, Harry snapped out of his daze.
“Oh,” he murmured, rubbing his temples, which had begun to ache.
Veratia's tone was gentle. “Of course, I must go visit my foolish little brother—and, of course, the headmaster who defeated him. I am quite eager to see just how powerful the wizard who bested Gellert truly is.”
Harry shuddered, a wave of sympathy rising in his heart.
Not just for Dumbledore, but also for Grindelwald.
Well... at least Dumbledore was better off. Harry felt that the headmaster, as the world’s most powerful white wizard, with a century of battle experience, surely wouldn’t be troubled by Veratia.
But Grindelwald... he was doomed.
As a younger brother, he couldn’t possibly throw spells at his sister whom he hadn’t seen in over a hundred years, could he?
Harry could already envision old Grindelwald getting thoroughly beaten by his sister. That would be... well...
Alright, hopefully, his seventeen-year-old sister would take pity on her now century-old little brother and not shatter his brittle old bones.
“Harry?” Veratia’s voice rang out. “What dangerous thoughts are you having?”
“Oh? Ah?” Harry snapped back to reality. “Nothing, nothing at all.”
“Wipe that weird smile off your face. I can see it.” Veratia reminded him.
“Oh, hehe.” Harry scratched his head, smiling sheepishly.
Veratia lowered her gaze to the Hogwarts panorama beneath the Map Chamber and issued a gentle dismissal. “It’s getting late, Harry. You should return to your dormitory and get some rest.”
“I want to stay with you a little longer,” Harry said, reluctant to leave.
“I’ll still be here, I’m not going anywhere,” Veratia said with a laugh. “But you—you’re just a twelve-year-old kid. I heard that staying up late can stunt a child’s growth. Do you want to be shorter than me?”
Harry recalled Veratia's nearly six-foot-tall stature and quickly stood up. “Alright, Veratia, I’ll go to bed now...”
“Good,” Veratia nodded at him.
Watching Harry's retreating figure, Veratia suddenly pondered a serious question.
Harry had returned to being twelve, restarting his first year at Hogwarts—but the her in the study was still a seventeen-year-old sixth-year student.
This...
