The Great Hall buzzed with the usual breakfast chatter, silverware clinking against plates as students fortified themselves for the day ahead. Chris spread jam on his toast with deliberate care, half-listening to Hannah's animated retelling of a dream involving Professor Flitwick and a choir of singing pincushions. The normalcy of the moment, this simple breakfast with friends, felt strangely significant this morning, as if his mind was already anticipating how everything was about to change.
"And then they all started harmonizing," Hannah continued, waving her spoon for emphasis, "but every time they hit a high note, they'd shoot pins everywhere! Poor Flitwick was dodging like his life depended on it."
Susan snorted into her pumpkin juice. "That's what happens when you fall asleep reading Charms homework. Your brain gets revenge."
"At least her dreams are interesting," Chris commented, reaching for another piece of toast. "Last night I dreamt about organizing my sock drawer. Twice."
This was, of course, a lie. He'd actually spent most of the night reviewing his conversation with Chiron, mentally refining his summer plans for the acromantula extermination. But ordinary students had ordinary dreams, and Chris was nothing if not committed to his cover.
"That's because you're secretly eighty years old," Susan teased, poking his arm with her fork. "Next you'll be complaining about your aching joints and how kids these days have no respect."
Hannah opened her mouth to add something, but her eyes suddenly widened, fixed on a point above Chris's head. "That's a Gringotts owl, isn't it?" she whispered.
Chris turned, his practiced calm masking the jolt of anticipation that shot through him. Descending toward their table was indeed a Gringotts owl, its sleek black feathers and the silver band around its leg unmistakable. Unlike the usual postal owls that swooped chaotically around the hall, this one flew with precision and purpose, its yellow eyes locked on Chris as it glided down to land neatly beside his plate.
The bird stood with unusual dignity, regarding Chris with an almost expectant air. Several nearby students had fallen silent, eyeing the official-looking messenger with poorly disguised curiosity. Gringotts owls were rare at Hogwarts; they typically delivered important financial or legal documents to professors, not second-year students.
"Must be about your trust fund," Susan whispered, her voice somewhere between awe and concern. "Is everything okay?"
"Just some family business," Chris replied with casual ease, gently taking the sealed envelope from the owl's beak. "Nothing to worry about."
The owl accepted a small piece of bacon from Chris's plate, gave him what could only be described as a respectful nod, and departed with the same stately grace with which it had arrived.
Chris examined the envelope. The seal was the official Gringotts crest pressed into blue-silver wax, the same special blend he'd used for his own letter. With measured movements that betrayed none of his inner excitement, he broke the seal and unfolded the heavy parchment.
The letter was brief, written in the precise, angular script that characterized goblin correspondence:
*Lord Emrys,*
*Your proposal regarding the forest matter has been received and considered with interest. The Goblin Nation is prepared to discuss terms and tactical planning for this venture when you return for the summer holiday. Chief Ragnok will personally oversee these negotiations, as befits the importance of our ancient alliance.*
*May your vaults overflow and your enemies tremble.*
*Griphook*
*Senior Accounts Manager*
*By order of Chief Ragnok*
And there, at the bottom of the page, separated from the main text by a significant space, was a single line written in a slightly different hand:
*The other matter is COMPLETE.*
Five simple words. To anyone else, they might seem like an afterthought, a minor administrative detail. But to Chris, they represented the culmination of months of waiting. The Gaunt ring, containing Voldemort's Horcrux and, more importantly, the Resurrection Stone, had been successfully retrieved from its hiding place.
He maintained his neutral expression with effort, though his heart raced. The Elder Wand hung securely in the warded vault at Ambrosia Manor. The Invisibility Cloak was folded in his trunk beside his bed. And now, the third Hallow, the Resurrection Stone, was in Gringotts' possession, awaiting his collection.
He had done it. Through careful planning and methodical execution, he had gathered the three most powerful magical artifacts in existence. The Deathly Hallows, united under one master after centuries of separation.
"Good news?" Hannah asked, trying and failing to sound merely casually interested.
Chris refolded the letter with deliberate care. "Just confirming some arrangements for the summer," he said, tucking it into an inner pocket of his robes. "Boring adult stuff."
"You're the only twelve-year-old I know who gets 'boring adult stuff' delivered by special Gringotts owl," Susan observed, her sharp eyes studying his face. "Sometimes I forget you're lord of an ancient house and all that."
"Trust me, I'd rather forget it too sometimes," Chris replied with a rueful smile. "Just means more responsibility."
As his friends returned to their breakfast, Chris allowed himself a moment of quiet reflection. The three Hallows. United. According to legend, their master would become the Master of Death. But what did that actually mean? The tales were frustratingly vague on specifics. Would he feel different? Gain new powers? Or was it merely a title, impressive but ultimately symbolic?
He would find out soon enough. When summer came, he would return to Ambrosia Manor, retrieve the Elder Wand from its hiding place, collect the Resurrection Stone from Jilly, and with the Cloak already in his possession, unite the three Hallows for the first time in centuries. Then, perhaps, their true purpose would be revealed.
For now, though, there was a more immediate matter to attend to. The Stone needed to be secured, transported from Gringotts to Ambrosia Manor where it would be safe from prying eyes. And for that, he needed privacy.
"Excuse me," he said, rising from the table. "I need to use the bathroom before class."
As his friends nodded absently, Chris walked from the Great Hall with measured steps that betrayed none of the excitement coursing through him. His mind was already racing ahead to what the united Hallows could mean.
Chris moved with deliberate casualness through the corridor, scanning for the least-used boys' bathroom in this wing of the castle. He needed absolute privacy, and the second-floor lavatory near the old Charms classroom was rarely frequented during breakfast hours. Stepping inside, he was greeted by the musty scent of aging pipes and stone that had absorbed centuries of dampness. Perfect. No students, no ghosts, and far enough from the main corridors that no one was likely to interrupt what came next.
He checked each stall with care, pushing doors open with his fingertips to ensure they were empty. Satisfied, he turned his attention to more magical forms of surveillance. With a practiced motion, he activated the silver bracelet on his wrist. The HUD flickered to life, its blue glow confirming what his eyes had already told him, the bathroom was empty of human presence. Even the castle's usual ambient magic seemed subdued here, as if this particular corner of Hogwarts had been forgotten by time itself.
Still, Chris wasn't taking chances. He cast a quick locking charm on the main door, followed by a silencing spell to ensure no sound would escape. Only then, with privacy secured, did he allow himself to focus on the task at hand.
"Jilly," he called softly, his voice barely above a whisper despite the silencing charm.
The air displaced with a gentle pop as Jilly appeared before him, her large amber eyes immediately alert and attentive. She wore her usual tailored dress bearing the Emrys crest, pressed to perfection despite the early hour.
"Master called for Jilly?" Her voice held its customary formal tone, but there was unmistakable warmth beneath it. Of all the house elves that served the Emrys household, Jilly alone seemed to have a true personal connection to Chris, something beyond the bound loyalty of her position.
"I did, Jilly. Thank you for coming so quickly." Chris knelt down to bring himself closer to her eye level. "I have an important task that requires your discretion and skill."
Jilly straightened, a look of pride crossing her features. "Jilly is honoured to serve. What does Master require?"
"I need you to go directly to Gringotts and speak with Chief Ragnok," Chris instructed, his voice steady but weighted with the significance of the request. "Tell him that Lord Emrys requests the immediate transfer of the item from the 'completed matter' to Ambrosia Manor."
Jilly's eyes widened slightly, recognizing both the unusual nature of the request and the importance of dealing directly with the leader of the Goblin Nation. "Jilly understands. Chief Ragnok is expecting this request?"
"He is. Once you receive the item, take it directly to the manor and place it in the secure vault beneath my study, the one with the bloodline wards. Do not examine it yourself, and speak of this task to no one, not even the other elves."
The house elf nodded solemnly. "Jilly will be most careful, Master. The item will be secured as you command, and no one will know."
"Thank you, Jilly." Chris hesitated, then added, "This may be one of the most important tasks I've ever asked of you. The item is... historically significant."
Something in his tone must have conveyed the true magnitude of what he was saying, because Jilly's expression shifted to one of deep understanding that seemed beyond her years or station. "Jilly has served the Ambrosia family for generations. She knows when magic of great importance moves through the world." She gave a small, formal bow. "Your secrets are safe with Jilly, as they have always been."
"I know," Chris said simply, and meant it.
With another soft pop, Jilly vanished, leaving Chris alone in the silent bathroom. He stood slowly, his mind turning over the implications of what was now in motion. The Resurrection Stone would soon be secured in his ancestral home, completing the set of Hallows under his control.
He waited, wondering if the universe would somehow acknowledge this moment. According to legend, uniting the Hallows under one master was a feat not accomplished since the Peverell brothers themselves first possessed the artifacts. Surely such a significant magical convergence would manifest in some tangible way? Perhaps a shift in his magical core, or some subtle awareness of death's domain?
But there was nothing, no surge of power, no whisper of ancient magic, no sense that anything fundamental had changed. The bathroom remained just a bathroom, and he remained just himself.
Of course, he reasoned, technical ownership might not be enough. The Elder Wand was locked away in Ambrosia Manor. The Resurrection Stone was en route to the same location. The Invisibility Cloak, while in his possession at Hogwarts, was still separated from the other two artifacts by considerable distance. Perhaps the Hallows needed to be physically united, held together by their master, to manifest their legendary power.
That would be a project for the summer, then. When school ended and he returned to Ambrosia Manor, he would gather all three Hallows in one place for the first time in centuries. He would hold them, united in his hands, and discover what it truly meant to be the Master of Death.
The thought sent a pleasant shiver down his spine, not from fear, but from anticipation. Whatever power the united Hallows might grant would become another tool in his carefully assembled arsenal, another advantage as he reshaped his future path.
He checked his appearance in the mirror, ensuring that no trace of excitement showed on his features. His reflection stared back with perfect composure, the mask of an ordinary student firmly in place. With a nod of satisfaction, he removed the locking charm from the door and cancelled the silencing spell.
It was time to return to his friends, to classes, to the everyday routine of Hogwarts. But beneath that ordinary exterior, his mind raced with extraordinary possibilities. Summer couldn't come soon enough.