Forgotten Blood

"Expelliarmus!" she shouted, and the bald man's wand flew from his grasp.

The room erupted into chaos as Irene engaged the bald man in a fierce duel, spells flying in rapid succession. "Stupefy! Protego! Petrificus Totalus!" Her voice rang out, each incantation filled with power and precision.

The tall, gaunt man and one of his accomplices tried to flee, but Irene's spells were relentless. "Confringo!" she cried, and the ground beneath their feet exploded, sending them sprawling.

"Get out of here, Adriana!" Irene commanded, her eyes never leaving her opponents.

"I'm not leaving you," I protested, though my strength was rapidly fading.

"I said go!" she snapped, casting another spell that knocked the tall man unconscious. "I'll handle this."

With a final, reluctant glance, I stumbled towards the door, the sounds of the duel echoing behind me. I made it only a few steps before collapsing, the world spinning around me as darkness claimed my vision.

When I came to, Irene was kneeling beside me, her wand glowing softly as she cast a healing spell. "You're lucky I got here when I did," she murmured, her tone a mix of relief and reprimand.

I expected her to berate me for breaking curfew, but instead, she helped me to my feet and said, "Go to your dormitory, Adriana. We'll talk more in my office tomorrow."

I blinked in surprise. "But Headmistress—"

"No buts," she interrupted firmly. "You're lucky to be alive. Consider this your one and only warning. Your arrogance will have severe consequences"

Nodding numbly, I made my way back to the Slytherin dormitory, my mind racing with questions. What was the Blood Key, and why did those men want it so desperately? And more importantly, what did it have to do with me?

As I lay in bed that night, the events of the evening replayed in my mind. The mention of the Blood Key echoed in my thoughts, and I couldn't shake the feeling that it was somehow connected to my father.

"What are you hiding, Father?" I muttered to myself, the mystery pressing down on me like a leaden blanket. With that thought echoing in my mind, I drifted off into an uneasy sleep, knowing that the answers I sought lay just beyond my grasp.

****

In Irene's office, I sat across from her, my eyes fixed on hers as I broached the topic that had been consuming my thoughts since our encounter with the mysterious men.

"What is the Blood Key, Ma'am? And how is it related to me?" I asked, my voice steady despite the turmoil churning within me.

Irene regarded me with a somber expression "Years ago, there were rumors of a trio of wizards who sought to create a wand unlike any other. A wand that would grant its owner the knowledge of every spell in existence, as well as immunity to the three unforgivable curses."

I listened intently as she continued, her words painting a picture of ambition "These wizards were prisoners of Azkaban, condemned for their crimes against magic and humanity. One of them was Percival Dumbledore."

mention of the Dumbledore name, added a layer of seriousness to the matter, but Irene pressed on, her voice steady despite the weight of her words. "But the wand remained ownerless after Percival's death. Two of the wizards were unworthy of it, so they hid it away in a secret chamber within Azkaban, guarded by powerful enchantments and accessible only by three keys, each with a unique keyring."

I leaned forward, my mind racing with the implications of her words. "And what were these keys?" I prompted, my curiosity piqued.

Irene sighed, her gaze distant as she recounted the details. "The first key bore the eye of Percival, the second his finger bone, and the third a vial of his blood. Only when all three keys were united could the chamber be unlocked."

I couldn't help but feel a sense of unease creeping over me. "But why tell me this now? And how does it relate to me?" I asked, my voice tinged with apprehension.

Irene shook her head, her expression troubled. "I'm afraid I don't have all the answers, Adriana. But I do know one thing: whatever connection you may have to this Blood Key, it is not something to be taken lightly."

****

I stood outside Harry Potter's home, my heart pounding with anticipation as I prepared to confront him about my father. With each step closer to the door, my resolve hardened, fueled by a desperate need for answers.

When Harry finally opened the door, I wasted no time in getting to the point. "I need to know about my father, Harry," I said, my voice firm despite the nervous fluttering in my stomach.

Harry's expression tightened, his eyes flickering with a mixture of reluctance and resignation. "Adriana, I can't—"

But I cut him off, my frustration bubbling to the surface. "You owe me this, Harry. My father's past is tied to mine, and I deserve to know the truth."

For a long moment, Harry said nothing, his gaze fixed on the ground as he wrestled with his inner demons. But finally, with a resigned sigh, he relented "come in and take a seat".

"As you know your father and I were colleagues," he began, his voice tinged with regret. "After I graduated from Hogwarts, I joined the Auror Office, and your father followed suit not long after. We worked side by side for several years, fighting against the remaining death eaters. Your father's name soon became a nightmare for them."

I felt a hint of pride at the mention of my father's bravery, but I pressed on, my curiosity burning brighter than ever. "But why did he leave England?" I asked, "Why did he raise me in the states?".

Harry's expression darkened, his eyes clouded with memories I could not see. "I wish I could tell you, Adriana. But your father... he took that fragment of my memory when he left. Whatever drove him to make that decision, it's a secret he carried to his grave."

A wave of disappointment washed over me, mingled with a sense of resignation. The truth about my father remained as elusive as ever, hidden behind a veil of mystery and half-forgotten memory.

"How do we retrieve the fragments?" I asked, my voice tinged with a mixture of hope and uncertainty.

"Your father won't take them to US as he wanted you to find them" Harry's eyes gleamed with determination as he met my gaze. "There's only one person who can help us with that," he replied cryptically.

"Who?" I pressed, my curiosity piqued.

Harry hesitated for a moment before answering. "Your uncle."

That hit me like a train, mention of an uncle, a relative I never knew existed. "I have an uncle?" I asked.

Harry nodded solemnly. "Yes, and he's the key to unlocking the truth about your father's past. But he's not an easy man to find, and even harder to persuade."

A surge of excitement coursed through me at the prospect of meeting my long-lost uncle, a man who held the answers to so many questions that had plagued me for years.

"When do we leave?" I asked, my eagerness palpable.

Harry smiled, a glimmer of hope shining in his eyes. "As soon as possible. We have a long journey ahead of us, Adriana, but I have a feeling it will be worth it in the end."

"How am I supposed to get out of Hogwarts?" I asked, voicing the question that had been nagging at me since our conversation.

Harry smiled knowingly, reaching for a quill and parchment. "Leave that to me," he said, his voice laced with confidence as he began to write.

I watched in fascination as Harry's quill danced across the parchment, crafting words with a fluidity and grace that belied his years of experience. When he finished, he handed me the letter, a sense of anticipation tingling in the air.

"What's this?" I asked, scanning the neatly written words on the page.

"It's an application for a two-week leave of absence from Hogwarts," Harry explained, his gaze meeting mine with a reassuring nod. "Starting from August 15th to August 30th."

****

As I made my way to Irene's office to deliver the letter, a sense of unease gnawed at the edges of my excitement. Would she approve my request so readily? And what would she make of my sudden departure from Hogwarts?

To my surprise, Irene greeted me with a raised eyebrow as I handed her the letter. "A two-week leave of absence?" she mused, her voice tinged with skepticism.

I nodded, my nerves jangling with anticipation. "Yes, Head Mistress. It's... a personal matter."

Irene studied the letter for a moment before looking back up at me, her expression unreadable. "If it were anyone else and any other situation, Adriana, I would say this is impossible," she said, her voice softening with understanding. "But considering it's Harry Potter and the circumstances you find yourself in... I suppose I can make an exception."

****

Harry and I stood outside the small, unassuming garage of his villa on the outskirts of London. The air was heavy with the scent of oil and magic, an odd combination. Harry reached out, pushing open the creaky door to reveal a sleek, black Aston Martin DB12 resting in the dim light. Its polished surface gleamed, a stark contrast to the grime and dust that coated everything else.

Harry turned to me, a faint smile playing at the corners of his lips. "Impressive, isn't it? Muggle engineering meets magical enhancement."

I couldn't help but stare at the car in awe. "What does it do?"

He walked over to the car, running a hand along its smooth, cool surface. "The Auto Mages are a talented bunch. They've outfitted this DB12 with some rather unique features." He paused, his expression turning serious. "We'll need every one of them for the journey ahead."

As we climbed into the car, Harry began to explain. "First off, it's enchanted with a Disillusionment Charm. Makes it invisible to anyone who doesn't know what to look for."

I nodded, impressed. "That'll come in handy."

Harry continued, "The engine's been enhanced with a series of runes. It can accelerate from zero to sixty in two seconds flat, and it's not just fast—it's silent. Perfect for a quick getaway."

He tapped the dashboard, and a series of glowing symbols appeared. "This is the heart of the enchantments. The car's equipped with a variety of defensive spells. Protego Maxima for shielding, Repello Inimicum to ward off pursuers, and even a modified Confundus Charm to disorient anyone who tries to tail us."

I couldn't hide my amazement. "Sounds like we'll be riding in the safest car in the world."

Harry gave a grim nod. "We'll need it. The journey ahead can be dangerous, as your uncle is often on the bad books of vile folks and we can't afford to be caught off guard."

As we sped down the winding roads, the car's enhancements became evident. The ride was impossibly smooth, the scenery outside a blur as we moved at incredible speeds. The windscreen displayed a series of magical readouts, tracking everything from our location to any magical disturbances in the area.

I glanced over at Harry, the weight of our mission settling heavily on my shoulders. "Do you really think we'll find my uncle?"

Harry's grip tightened on the steering wheel. "We have to, Adriana. It's the only way to get the answers you need."

The hum of the engine was almost hypnotic, the rhythmic thrum blending with the low, urgent tones of Harry's voice as he outlined our plan. "Your uncle is a recluse, living off the grid. Finding him won't be easy, but the Auto Mages have equipped us with a magical tracker keyed to his unique magical signature."

He tapped a device embedded in the car's console, a small, glowing orb that pulsed with an eerie light. "This will lead us to him. But be prepared, Adriana. The path to the truth is rarely straightforward."

****

The journey to Lansworth Estate was swift, the Aston Martin DB12 gliding through the night with an almost preternatural ease. Harry's eyes were fixed on the road, but his mind was clearly elsewhere, burdened by the weight of our mission. The countryside gave way to the sprawling grounds of the Lansworth Estate, its ancient trees casting long, eerie shadows under the moonlight.

We pulled up to the main house, a grand yet dilapidated structure that had seen better days. The once-imposing facade was now marred by the passage of time, ivy crawling up the walls like the fingers of some relentless, unseen force.

Inside, the house was a labyrinth of forgotten memories and dust-covered relics. Harry and I moved through the rooms methodically, searching for any clue that might lead us to my uncle Thaddeus. The air was thick with the scent of age and disuse, every creak of the floorboards echoing in the silence.

We found ourselves in the library, a cavernous room filled with rows of ancient tomes and yellowing parchments. Harry scanned the shelves, his eyes narrowing in concentration. "Thaddeus was always a clever man," he muttered. "He wouldn't leave anything out in the open."

I nodded, my gaze sweeping the room for any sign of a hidden compartment or concealed message. "He must have left something behind, some clue to his whereabouts."

Harry's eyes landed on a large, ornate globe in the corner of the room. He moved towards it, his fingers tracing the intricate designs etched into its surface. "This globe... it doesn't belong here. It's too new."

I joined him, noting the peculiar runes carved into the base. Harry muttered a quick incantation, and the globe began to spin, faster and faster until it abruptly stopped, revealing a hidden compartment within the base. Inside, we found a bundle of letters and an old, weathered journal.

I opened the journal, flipping through the pages until I came across an entry not written in my father's unmistakable handwriting. The entry detailed writer's growing disillusionment with the wizarding world and his desire to disappear into the muggle world, where he believed he could live without the constant threat of magical conflict.

Harry leaned over my shoulder, reading the entry with a furrowed brow. "It seems Thaddeus wanted to escape the chaos of our world. But why would he hide so thoroughly?"

I scanned the letters, searching for any mention of a specific location. One letter, in particular, caught my eye. It was addressed to a muggle address in a small town not far from the estate. "Here," I said, pointing to the address. "This could be it."

Harry's eyes lit up with a glimmer of hope. "We need to go there. If Thaddeus left any more clues, they'll be there."

As we made our way back to the car, the weight of our discovery settled over me. My uncle had chosen to hide in the muggle world, forsaking the life of magic and intrigue for one of anonymity and peace. But why? And what secrets had driven him to such lengths?

The drive to the small town was tense, the quiet hum of the engine the only sound breaking the stillness of the night. As we approached the address, a modest house on the outskirts of town, I couldn't shake the feeling that we were on the brink of uncovering something monumental.

Harry parked the car a short distance away, and we approached the house on foot, moving cautiously. The house was dark, its windows shuttered against the night. Harry knocked on the door, his wand at the ready, just in case.