Harry Potter and the Secret Treasures

The wizard beneath the stone pillar opposite Harry, carrying the statue of the evil god, walked toward the Dark Witch in the center of the platform.

As he drew closer to Harry, the strange sense of unease grew stronger. Harry had a bad feeling. He wanted to see who this Dark Wizard was, but neither the torchlight nor the light of magic seemed to penetrate the shadow beneath the wizard’s hood. It was as though a mass of darkness veiled his face, blocking Harry’s sight.

Before long, Harry gave up. His gaze was drawn irresistibly to the statue cradled in the wizard’s arms.

The statue looked like a grotesque, rotting tree stump. The tentacles extending from it writhed ceaselessly, as though devouring the surrounding magic, souls, and every shred of life-force in the air. Even the light itself seemed to warp near it as it was consumed, and Harry felt as though something inside him was being pulled away.

This feeling was like when a Dementor approached, but while the Dementor sucked away happiness, Harry had no idea what the statue was taking from him.

In fact, Harry wasn’t even sure whether it was real or just his imagination. He simply felt weaker and weaker.

Only the scar on his forehead throbbing again and again, reminded him that this was truly happening — and not a horrible nightmare.

Harry was certain of one thing: the statue was connected to the evil god, and it was also Voldemort’s Horcrux.

A fragment of Voldemort’s soul was inside the statue. That was why Harry could sense it, and why his scar ached.

Aside from times when Voldemort’s emotions flared violently, Harry’s scar always reacted like this whenever a Horcrux was nearby. But unlike the Horcruxes he had encountered before, the statue of the evil god possessed tremendous power of its own; it could absorb the power of souls and flesh.

This statue was extremely evil, and its significance to Voldemort was extraordinary — a symbol of his conquest of death.

Harry had never imagined that Voldemort would entrust such an object to the Dark Witch.

Then it came to him. Last night.

At Malfoy Manor, the Dark Witch had gone to see Voldemort.

She had gone there seeking help — and it was then that Voldemort must have given her the statue of the evil god.

The statue could grant her greater power, help her overcome the Ravenclaw spirits, and enable her to obtain the secret of the Veil of Death, the incantation that opened it. Sure enough, the moment the Dark Witch received the statue, a faint red glow began to radiate from it, and the tentacles on its surface started writhing even faster.

“Great Master, I offer these delicious souls to you. Show me your power!” the Dark Witch shouted.

The instant her words fell, the red light erupting from the statue shot skyward.

It generated a powerful pull, and all the souls that had been attempting to flee were sucked back into it.

“I shall devour all essence!” a deep voice echoed directly inside Harry’s mind.

“Great master, lend me your power, and make all mortals kneel before you!” the Dark Witch shouted again.

She embraced the statue of the evil god, raising her wand high in her other hand.

“Souls — so delicious!” the voice sounded once more, and Harry felt as though his head were about to split apart.

The light radiating from the statue of the evil god statue began to converge upon the Dark Witch, transforming as it did into green magical energy.

The ghastly green magical light before Harry’s eyes was almost blinding, and he couldn’t help but squint. In that hazy moment, he saw the Dark Witch once again cast a spell toward the clusters of light clinging to the stone pillars. This time, the lights were blasted apart, revealing the words they had been concealing — the incantation to open the Veil of Death slowly emerged.

…………………………………………………………………………

Amidst a mournful melody, the procession split into two groups, escorting the carriage slowly forward along a narrow road that wound its way up toward the hill where the castle stood. The road circled the entire hill once. Rounding a bend, Evan’s view suddenly opened up; he saw the lake on the other side.

The lake was vast. Had it not dried up, it would surely have been beautiful.

But now it had been dry for who knew how long, leaving only a large crater, like a living hell, especially at night.

Evan leaned against the carriage window, gazing idly outside, thinking about what had happened here earlier that night.

The strange singing, seemingly coming from nowhere, seemed to reveal a lot of information.

Combined with what he’d already pieced together, it appeared that because of the Veil of Death, this land had been cursed with darkness. The Ravenclaw wizards, the guards, and all the residents had been bound here, turned into spirits unable to pass on — imprisoned by magic for a thousand years.

The power of the Veil of Death… or the magic of an evil god?!

Just then, Evan noticed a green glow appear in the center of the lake.

Dark magic?

At a time like this, the only one who could still be casting magic here had to be the Dark Witch. What was she planning?!

Harry and Ron should be there, shouldn’t they? Within the green glow of Dark magic, Evan seemed to glimpse a trace of deep crimson.

What did that represent?!

No Dark spell he knew was dark red in color. That meant it had to be some neutral magic, or some other kind of magic that was deeply unsettling even to contemplate?!

Evan made no move. Under the influence of Ravenclaw’s diadem, he was devoid of emotion and therefore not worried about Harry and Ron’s safety. Rationally, this was something he should have been concerned about — but without emotion, it simply no longer mattered as much.

Evan was now considering his next move. The Dark Witch was clearly performing some dangerous Dark Magic in the building at the lake’s center. Rushing over recklessly would achieve nothing — alone, he was no sure he could handle the Dark Witch and the many Raven’s Claw Dark Wizards.

Rather than take the risk, it was better to find a breakthrough among the Ravenclaw ghosts and figure out what had truly happened on this land long ago.

The carriage did not stop despite the sudden appearance of Dark Magic. It continued onward toward the castle gates at the hill’s peak.

Once past the castle’s outer wall, the soldiers escorting the carriage fanned out to stand guard, keeping watch in all directions.

A few minutes later, the carriage rolled to a slow halt outside the castle’s main gates.

An elderly ghost in robes bearing the Ravenclaw family crest was waiting outside the gates. He stepped forward and opened the carriage door.

“Welcome back, Master,” he said, bowing deeply to Evan.

“You’re from Ravenclaw family? I’m not your master, you’ve mistaken me for someone else,” Evan said, looking down at the ghost outside the carriage.

“No, my master, I would never mistake the diadem upon your head,” the old man said. “That is the symbol of the Ravenclaw family — the Crown of Wisdom. Only the wisest wizards, and the true masters of this land, may possess it. I have waited a thousand years for this moment. Welcome back to Ravenclaw Castle.”