Chapter 24: Signs of Activation

"The Night Emperor?" the lead wizard muttered, the name echoing strangely in the sudden, cavernous silence. The Gringotts guards exchanged confused, shocked glances.

"He's vanished," another wizard confirmed, his wand emitting a faint, probing light. "There's no trace. No magical signature left behind."

"It wasn't a physical form," a third added. "More like a projection. It just… dissipated."

The lead wizard, a stern-faced man named John, turned his attention back to the grim reality of their situation. "Has the robed intruder been found?"

"The other two teams are in pursuit. No word yet."

John's gaze swept the chamber, finally landing on the massive, unmoving form of Hagrid. "Hagrid?" His expression shifted to one of alarm as he rushed over. "Hagrid, are you alright? Wake up!" He shook the half-giant's shoulder.

"Ugh… run… run!" Hagrid groaned, his consciousness flickering back. He suddenly sat up, his eyes wild with panic, startling everyone.

"Hagrid, it's me, John!"

"John… I remember now." Hagrid's focus slowly returned. He recognized John as a former Hogwarts student. Then, his memory came crashing back in a wave of horror. "Oh, my God… Harry! Where's Harry?!" he roared, struggling to get to his feet.

"What Harry?" John asked, confused.

"Harry Potter! The Boy Who Lived! Oh, blimey, how could this have happened…" Hagrid's face was a mask of pale dread. If anything had happened to Harry on his watch, he would never forgive himself.

"Harry Potter was here?"

"Merlin's beard!"

A wave of shocked exclamations went through the gathered wizards. There wasn't a soul in the magical world who didn't know that name. A grim realization dawned on all of them. The robed intruder, the Killing Curse… it must have been a Death Eater, one of the Dark Lord's followers, here to finish the job.

"Hagrid… I… I'm fine."

A faint voice came from behind a large stalactite. Several wizards immediately rushed over and found Harry, weak and bruised but alive, huddled in the shadows. They quickly checked him over, relieved to find only superficial wounds.

"There's another boy here," one of them called out. Behind a nearby rock formation, they found Dudley, his face pale and his breathing shallow.

"It's my cousin, Dudley," Harry explained.

"I'm… fine," Dudley managed to say before his eyes fluttered shut again. The world swam away into darkness. He was utterly drained. The battle had consumed nearly all of his spiritual power. If he hadn't controlled the output precisely, he might have been left a mindless vegetable. He had survived, but the cost was immense. A bitter sense of injustice washed over him. He had just come to withdraw some money. How had he ended up in a life-or-death battle with a powerful dark wizard?

"It's good that you're alright," John said, his voice laced with relief. "Come with me. I have some questions for you about what happened here."

"Captain," a wizard called out from the darkness. "We've found a goblin's body."

"The robed man killed him," Harry said, his voice trembling. "I saw a green light, and then… he was just gone." The wizards exchanged solemn, grim glances.

Ten minutes later, they were back on the surface, in a luxurious, wood-paneled VIP room within Gringotts. Harry and Dudley were lying on separate, plush sofas. Hagrid sat hunched in a chair, his massive frame seeming to shrink with guilt.

"How could this have happened?" he lamented, his voice thick with self-recrimination. "It's all my fault. I failed to protect him." He sniffled, wiping tears from his eyes. "I've already reported this to Professor Dumbledore. He's on his way. Only he can handle something like this."

Harry lay silent, his mind replaying the terrifying scene in the cavern. Just as he was about to die, that ethereal, majestic black figure had appeared, blocking the robed man's path. Who was he? The sense of awe and power had been overwhelming, yet there had been a strange, inexplicable familiarity to it. Could it have been… my father's ghost? He didn't know, but in that moment, he had felt a sense of security he had never known before.

On the other sofa, Dudley turned over, burying his head in the soft cushions, trying to block out Hagrid's noisy self-flagellation. Finally, he thought, my spiritual power is starting to recover. The headache is fading, and those maddening whispers are gone. Forcibly using Trunsoest's Brass Book was a desperate, last resort. He hated using a Sealed Artifact of that level unless absolutely necessary. But in that situation, it had been his only option.

He felt the cool, metallic weight of the book still tucked inside his coat. He could feel it, a subtle thrumming against his ribs. It now showed faint but undeniable signs of activation. I hope my strength recovers enough to seal it again before it fully awakens, he thought with a flicker of dread.

After what felt like an eternity, Hagrid finally quieted down, and Dudley drifted into an exhausted sleep.

About half an hour later, a commotion outside the door woke him. The door opened, and a kind-faced old man with a long, silver beard and twinkling half-moon spectacles entered the room. His gaze went first to Harry, then shifted to Dudley, a flicker of profound curiosity in his eyes. Behind him, a crowd of stern-faced wizards followed, the gravity of the day's events clear on their faces.

"Professor Dumbledore, you're finally here!" Hagrid said, jumping to his feet. "It's my dereliction of duty. I failed to protect Harry."

"Hagrid, it is not your fault," Dumbledore said, his voice calm and reassuring. He turned his gaze to the two boys, a gentle smile on his face. He gave them a conspiratorial wink.

"As per protocol, we have some questions to ask you," he said kindly. "Don't be nervous, children. Just tell me everything you saw."

***

(End of Chapter)

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