"The Night Emperor?"
Several wizards muttered, their faces etched with confusion and awe.
"He's gone," one said.
"No trace left to follow."
"He had no physical form."
The wizards cast spells to scan the surroundings, but found nothing.
"Has the cloaked figure been apprehended?" the lead wizard, John, asked.
"The other two teams are pursuing him. No updates yet," a colleague replied.
John fell silent, his gaze sweeping the vault. His eyes landed on Hagrid, unconscious nearby.
"Hagrid?" John's expression tightened as he hurried over. "Hagrid, are you alright? Wake up!"
"Ugh… run, run…" Hagrid stirred, his voice groggy, his mind still clouded. He suddenly shouted, startling everyone.
"Hagrid, it's me, John. Remember me?" John said loudly.
"You… John…" Hagrid's eyes cleared as he recognized the former Hogwarts student, now a Gringotts employee. "Oh, Merlin, where's Harry? Where's Harry?!"
He struggled to sit up, panic seizing him. If anything had happened to Harry, he'd never forgive himself.
"What Harry?" John asked, puzzled.
"Harry Potter, the Boy Who Lived! How could this happen…" Hagrid's face drained of color, his voice trembling with guilt.
"Harry Potter was here?"
"Was he…?"
"Merlin's beard!"
The surrounding wizards gasped. In the wizarding world, Harry's name was legendary, known to all.
Their expressions grew grim. Was the cloaked figure a Death Eater, targeting Harry? A remnant of the Dark Lord's followers?
"Hagrid… I'm… okay," a faint voice called from behind a stalactite.
The wizards rushed over, finding Harry slumped against the rock, pale but alive.
"Harry, are you hurt?" they asked, checking him over. They sighed in relief, finding only minor scrapes.
"There's another boy here," one wizard noted, spotting a pale, exhausted figure nearby.
"That's my cousin, Dudley," Harry said quickly.
"I'm… fine," Dudley murmured, forcing his eyes open before they fluttered shut again. He was drained. The battle had sapped his spiritual power; any misstep could've left him broken. Yet, he'd survived.
He felt a pang of injustice. I just came to withdraw money. Why did I run into this nightmare? The cloaked figure's power was far beyond ordinary—how had he been so unlucky?
"You're both safe, thank Merlin," John said. "Come with me. We need to ask you about what happened."
"Captain, we found a goblin's body," another wizard called from nearby.
"The cloaked figure killed him," Harry said, his voice shaky. "I saw a green light, and he was gone."
The wizards exchanged solemn glances, the weight of the Killing Curse sinking in.
Ten minutes later, the group reached the surface, ushered into a VIP room at Gringotts.
Harry and Dudley lay on separate sofas, Hagrid sat nearby, and the room was otherwise empty.
"How could this happen? It's horrifying," Hagrid muttered, his voice thick with self-reproach. "It's my fault, my incompetence."
He blamed himself endlessly. He'd failed to protect Harry, who'd nearly died at the cloaked figure's hands.
"I've notified Professor Dumbledore. He's on his way. Only he can handle this," Hagrid said, wiping his teary eyes.
Harry stayed silent, replaying the underground scene. Just as death loomed, that ethereal black phantom had intervened, stopping the cloaked figure.
Who was he? The phantom's majesty was overwhelming, yet strangely familiar. Could it be… my father's spirit? Harry wondered, clinging to the sense of security it had brought, though doubt lingered.
Dudley shifted, pressing his ear into the sofa's cushion to muffle Hagrid's laments. He craved rest.
My spiritual power's recovering, he thought, exhaling softly. The headache's easing, and those maddening whispers have faded.
Using Trensorst's Brass Book had been a desperate move. He avoided such a powerful Sealed Artifact unless absolutely necessary, but without it, he'd have been defenseless against the cloaked figure.
I hope it doesn't malfunction, he thought, glancing at the Brass Book tucked against him. Its faint activation worried him. I need to grow stronger to reseal it before it fully awakens.
Hagrid's muttering finally quieted, and Dudley drifted into a light sleep.
Half an hour later, commotion outside the door jolted him awake.
Bang. The door swung open, revealing a white-haired, bearded man in half-moon spectacles—Professor Dumbledore. His gaze first landed on Harry, then Dudley.
A dozen wizards followed, their faces grave, the Gringotts incident clearly stirring panic.
"Professor Dumbledore, thank Merlin you're here," Hagrid said, standing. "It's my fault. I didn't protect Harry."
"Hagrid, you're not to blame," Dumbledore said calmly.
He turned to Harry and Dudley, his eyes twinkling. "As protocol requires, we have questions. Don't be nervous, boys. Just tell me what you saw."
-----------
To support me and to read chapter in advance go to patreon.com/harsh07
Read upto 36 chapters on patreon in advance