《The Tomb of Potter》III: Harry Potter.
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“How many components are in this mansion?” A woman by herself spoke aloud.
“Well maybe if your dumbass would stop chasing after the tiniest of noises, we would probably have the cloak.” A high-pitched voice resounded by the woman’s shoulder, as a colorful bird rested.
“Hmph. Fuck off. I’m only here for the monetary value of these items. Those who believe Potter truly died here are gullible. This is nothing but a mere collection propagandize by the Death Eaters.” The lady spoke as she flicked the bird of her shoulder.
“Hey! What the hell is your probably bitch. It's about time I find a new owner. You may be powerful but your ass can still get killed in this warzone.” The bird yelled in an indignant tone.
“Whomever can kill me should be honored. I’m not titled the Queen of Earth for no reason… Huh? Who the hell is that.” The lady hurriedly hushed as she heard haggard breathing.
Slowly walking towards the location of noise. She equipped her wand that was rough and decrepit in design. Sixteen inches in length as a viper head rested as the front. Aiming the head towards the noise, she crept closer and closer. Before she saw the head of an individual whose eyes remained open in disbelief. Weariness etched across her face as she realized the head was bodiless before she heard a plea for help.
“Y-you… Q-queen. Earth. Run, away… The one who wishes to master… here.” Mikal’s voice trailed off as his eyes closed. Never to see the beauty of the rising moon for perpetuity. Silently staring at the three corpses. The Queen of Earth calmly processed and analyzed the current predicament.
“It seems the artifacts are in this mansion. I knew it! If I can avoid a confrontation with The Elder or The Ghost, my life is guaranteed.” The Queen spoke as a smile coated her face.
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“Well, what happens if the rumored Lord Trenaver is also here?” The colorful birdie spoke in a pessimistic tone.
“Well that asshole is pretty powerful. Then that simply means he’s probably here to kill either The Elder or The Ghost. But if he does wish to conquer the Deathly Hallows… well I’ll just seduce him or something.” The queen continued to speak with an optimistic tone full of confidence.
“You stupid bitch. I think you just gave us a death flag.” The bird uttered in pessimism, before noticing a figure in his peripheral.
“This scary motherfucker is standing there, silently looking at us. Dammit, I knew I should’ve mated with darling before I left.” The bird continued to speak as its tone drifted from pessimism to assurance.
As the woman glanced, she locked gazes with an individual with bottle-green eyes. As a thunderbolt-esque scar caressed his forehead. His deadpan expression remained fixated on her. Aware of his identity and prestige, her body began to slightly tremble. Mentally berating herself for her bad luck, she re-adjusted her posture in preparation for a bitter fight. Only to watch the individual walk away.
“Leave. If not, your death will be assured.” The cloaked individual spoke as he left the vicinity of the library. Leaving the woman and bird dumbfounded.
“Say, Alicia. Maybe he was enamored by your beauty. It seems luck was on our side today. HOLY SHIT! We survived an encounter with The Elder. Am I badass now?” The bird continued to spout nonsense as Alicia attempted re-collect herself.
---
“Meguri, do you believe those brats will be fine?” Adamlock spoke.
“Who knows. I would have rather followed them. I rather not be exposed to dangers without decoys to gauge the enemy.” Meguri replied.
As the duo traveled throughout the domain of the mansion. They stumbled upon the entrance of the library that seemed to span indefinitely. Cautiously traversing the environment, they stumbled upon the corpse of three entities adorned with green robes.
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“It’s the insignia of the Pride of Lions. Just who could be powerful enough to smite Mikal Forester and his security. Was it another group just like ours and the Order?” Meguri spoke as she pondered to herself.
“No, it seems to be the action of multiple characters. The traces of magic still waft through the air. No doubt it was a caster of dark arts. For who, that maybe the greater mystery.” Adamlock spoke as he patted the corpses.
“Adamlock. Meguri?” An inquisitive voice resounded through the library.
---
“We’ve already studied the scriptures in the bedrooms. I believe our discoveries are enough to prompt the Ministry to take action. Why remain here, Niel?” Madeline spoke as she frowned.
Supported by the other members of the group, Madeline felt reassured. Witnessing the group’s behavior forced Niel to smile wryly.
“I understand. So be it, if you guys wish to leave, then leave.” Niel said unhurriedly, with a light tone of happiness.
“Are you not returning with us?” Madeline questioned.
“My ambition and desire are brighter than you lot. You only wish to live safely within your caged homes of complacency. I rather die and step closer to my dreams than to never be brave enough to walk. Yes, my death may be assured. But I would rather die chasing the stars, than to be ecstatic from playing in mud.” Niel spoke as bowed towards his compatriots before walking away.
Outside the mansion, stood a man with dignified and otherworldly aura. Shorter than average, as his tied black hair cuddled with the emerging greys. Signifying his start to an age symbolic of wisdom. Wearing a white cloak that camouflaged himself in the calm winter atmosphere. Looking at the debris of ash that rained from the sky and the constant fire that brimmed with excitement. His expression remained tense and serious. As he ventured uphill with his hands clasped behind his back. He gazed as a black gaseous form seemed to coil around the sky before settling several feet away from him. The elder and pale figure locked eyes with him before smiling and once again turning into a gaseous form, seemingly heading towards the roof of the mansion that spanned a great length.
“It seems Lord Trenaver has desired to earn the powers of death as well. An Auror like yourself is beyond my humble self. But there are others who will succumb to my might.” Gregor spoke as he drifted towards the sky.
“A coward never seems to gain heart.” Lord Trenaver mumbled to himself as he continued uphill.
Unbeknownst to him, another figure silently watched him from one of the many infinite windows decorated around the mansion. As his bottle-green eyes watched the white cloak proceed closer towards the mansion, a smile crept onto his face. Turning his back towards the room he was in, his expression transitioned, becoming solemn. Gazing at the portrait on the wall that spanned several feet in height, length and width. He analyzed the man within the portrait.
Bottle-green eyes, eyes of which that portrayed purity and innocence. Eyes that seemed calm; naive but also brave. The forehead marked with the scar of a lighting-esque bolt. The round glasses attached towards the light-shade pigmentation, giving the man a scholarly and wise look. Those facial features of another being of a past time was eerily similar to the present being donned in black. Walking up to the portrait and gently touching it, a feeling of warmth briefly coated the man’s heart.
“I am your last descendant.” The green-eyed individual spoke. As his gaze remained on the figure touted as the greatest wizard of all-time.
Harry Potter.
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