Deep in a quiet forest in southern Germany,
"Is this the place?" A tall, thin man in grey robes pointed to a small wooden cabin, strangely nestled in the forest.
Another even taller wizard pulled down his hood. It was Dumbledore.
"Yes, this is it. My old friend Aigudo lives here. The magical artifact you asked for last time, he made it."
The man in grey nodded and removed his own hood. It was Skoll.
"Good."
They knocked. After a while, the door was yanked open by a grumpy, scrawny goblin, who gave Dumbledore a glance before fixing his gaze on the ear cuff Skoll wore. His expression softened with satisfaction, and he rudely kicked the door open wider.
"Come in, then. What do you want? You never show up unless you're bothering me for something."
Two large oak barrels floated out of thin air. Dumbledore guided them to the ground.
Aigudo's eyes lit up. He climbed up one and pulled out the stopper.
A rich aroma of aged liquor filled the air.
"Bloody hell, fifty-year vintage?" Aigudo jumped to the floor and began kicking aside bits of metal strewn around. "Speak, speak, what do you want?"
Dumbledore looked to Skoll.
Skoll unslung a wooden crate from his back and tapped it with his wand. The box exploded open, torn apart by the contents within.
A pungent, animalistic scent filled the cabin.
Aigudo shrieked, then, almost reverently, scooped up a purplish hide, still dripping with blood and sinew.
"Oh, you old dog! What did you do?" His words were rough, but his hands were impossibly gentle as he caressed the fresh pelt. "Haven't seen such a pristine, fresh Horncamal hide in years."
He glanced suspiciously at both wizards. "From how fresh this is… you two killed a fully grown Horncamal yesterday?" He shook his head with disbelief. "Ha! No way. I'll give you credit, old man, but just the two of you? You couldn't even kill a troll with minor injuries, let alone a Horncamal."
"Mr. Aigudo," Skoll interjected, "let's not worry about how we got it. I was hoping, "
Aigudo waved him off impatiently, still clutching the pelt. "I know, I know, you want armor made. Hmph! I'll have you know, I'm the only goblin left who still makes real armor. This pelt, I'm taking half."
Skoll frowned. "Mr. Aigudo, perhaps I could pay more go, "
"Who cares about your filthy gold?" Aigudo snapped. He dragged the hide toward the back room. "Do you even understand what a full Horncamal hide means?"
He raised four fingers, eyes bulging. "Four full sets of leather armor. Half a year. Half the hide. Ten thousand Galleons!" He paused and gave Dumbledore a crooked look. "If this old coot hadn't brought you here, I'd have kept the whole thing for myself. So, do we have a deal or not?"
He turned to go, grumbling, "Wizards always ruin good materials. I need to process this now!"
Skoll looked at Dumbledore with a frown. Dumbledore gave him a subtle nod.
"Fine," Skoll said reluctantly. "But Mr. Aigudo, six months is too long! This is important, can't you do it sooner?"
Aigudo's already bulging eyes widened even more, as if he were about to eat Skoll alive. "This is armor! Do you know what armor is for?"
"I'm sorry," Skoll said, bowing slightly. "Please, we need it in no more than three months."
Aigudo's chest heaved. He ground his teeth. "You wizards! Wizards!! Fine, thirty thousand Galleons! Leave the gold. Be gone. Come back in three months. We'll see what it turns out like."
"Thank you, my old friend," Dumbledore said politely.
Aigudo glanced at Dumbledore's withered arm, blew at his beard in irritation, and huffed.
Skoll placed a Gringotts withdrawal slip on the only table in the cabin, its corner chipped.
As they left, the rickety wooden door slammed shut behind them, and odd green smoke began billowing from the chimney.
"He'll give it his all," Dumbledore said.
Skoll nodded. "From the way he cradled that hide, I can tell. How do you even know him? Goblins aren't exactly fond of human wizards."
"Ah, it's a long story. Let's just say... I saved his life once. Pure chance, really."
⚡︎━━━━━━━━━━━━━━ ❖ ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━⚡︎
After the Easter holidays, Hogwarts Castle buzzed with life again.
Leafless trees had begun to sprout tender green buds. Snow on the mountains had melted completely, and the lake beside the castle had risen. The surface water had warmed, and the giant squid appeared more frequently, surfacing lazily.
On a mid-March morning, Anne and Fanny walked side by side toward the Slytherin table. As they passed a group of younger students, Barcombe greeted them. Fanny responded with a bright smile, and Anne gave him a nod and a friendly grin.
"Anne, Barcombe's doing great. He's improving so fast with every training session. We've won all our recent matches. I really think the Quidditch Cup is ours this year."
"Absolutely." Anne patted Fanny's shoulder. "Thanks to our brilliant strategist! You show up to every practice, the Slytherin fanbase is at an all-time high, "
"Quit teasing me!" Fanny laughed and ruffled Anne's hair before dashing away.
Anne shook her head with a small smile, continuing to her seat. Halfway there, she stole a glance at the Gryffindor table and exchanged a knowing smile with Hermione.
Sitting down, Anne helped herself to shrimp toast and a glass of milk.
Dozens of owls swooped in, dropping letters and packages across the Great Hall.
In high spirits, Fanny untied a copy of the Daily Prophet from the leg of a yellow barn owl. "The Ministry caught three Death Eaters a few days ago. Wonder what today's news will be?"
Anne smiled faintly, voice laced with irony. "Looks like the Ministry is doing something right, "
Just then, Momo landed in front of Anne with a letter. She frowned. "Hmm? Diana and Aaron sent me a letter together?"
She pushed a piece of pie toward Momo, took a sip of milk, and opened the letter one-handed.
Before she could read it, Fanny gasped loudly, drawing attention. Other students who had also received the Daily Prophet began crying out in horror.
"Anne! It's horrible!" Fanny blurted. "From the depths of darkness, Revenge of the Dark Lord?"
A huge photo filled the center of the front page. The Dark Mark floated in the sky. Muggles ran screaming down a burning street.
"According to reports, Death Eaters attacked near Richmond Secondary School in West London. Two pro-Muggle rights wizards were killed, and the school was set on fire. Muggle police estimate 37 students dead and over 100 injured…"
"This appears to be direct retaliation for the recent arrest of Death Eaters. An unnamed wizard told our reporter..."
A sharp crash interrupted the hum of conversation in the Great Hall.
"Anne?" Fanny called out in panic.
Anne had crushed her glass of milk in her hand. Blood mixed with white milk dripped onto the table. Plates nearby shattered as if struck by an invisible force.
Anne didn't flinch, she didn't seem to feel it. Her eyes were locked on the letter she held, knuckles white.
Snape swept down from the staff table in a blur. He glanced at the scene and said grimly, "Magic outburst. Charles, take Reeve to the hospital wing."
Students craned their necks to see what was happening, but quickly sat back down under Snape's icy glare.
Hermione was already on her feet. When she saw Fanny helping Anne out of the hall, she didn't hesitate, she dropped her knife and fork and followed.
When Hermione saw Anne's mangled hand, she drew a sharp breath.
Anne looked dazed, completely lost.
"What happened?" Hermione asked gently, gripping Anne's wrist to stop her from clenching further. Shards of glass were nearly poking through the other side. "Anne, relax, "
"I don't know. I was just reading the front page. Then Anne got a letter…"
Shhhk,
Anne hissed as her mind returned to her body.
Madam Pomfrey had just removed the last shard of glass from between the bones and was quickly applying thick white ointment.
Jill was dead.
That's what the letter from Aaron had said.
Richmond Secondary School.
Anne remembered how excited Jill had been when she got in. "I'm a top student now, Anne! What university do you want to go to? Maybe we'll get in the same one someday?"
"And this dessert you invented, the double-skin milk, is so good. Anne, how did you even come up with this?"
The realization hit again, and Anne's face turned pale. She bit her lip hard.
Revenge.
The words from the Daily Prophet felt like a freshly honed blade.
"Anne—"
As Madam Pomfrey stepped away, Hermione gently touched Anne's trembling lips.
Anne sniffled. Her chest ached. The emotions surging inside her were impossible to name.
She hugged Hermione suddenly, burying her face in her neck.
Fanny pulled the curtains around the bed. Though Madam Pomfrey had kept others out, a few students were still in beds nearby.
Hermione held Anne close, silently stroking her back.
"Jill… she's dead," Anne whispered.
Hermione and Fanny locked eyes. They had both read the Daily Prophet that morning. They hadn't expected it would hit so close to home.
They both knew, Jill had been the most important person from Anne's Muggle past. The same girl who once offered all her pocket money so Anne wouldn't have to study at Hogsmeade.
Neither Hermione nor Fanny knew what to say. Words felt meaningless. Hermione simply hugged Anne tighter.
The infirmary door creaked open. Voices echoed from outside.
Madam Pomfrey hurried over. A moment later, she returned, bringing three people.
Dumbledore entered, followed by a worried-looking Diana and Aaron.
Fanny peeked out and whispered, "Anne, your Uncle Aaron and Aunt Diana are here."
"No..." Anne muttered hoarsely, eyes red.
Hermione held her tighter, gently patting her back. "I'm not letting go, Anne."
"Anne, " Aaron's voice cracked, thick with guilt. He hadn't slept at all. He'd helped with the Auror operation, but still… he felt personally responsible.
Hearing that, Anne broke.
"I'm sorry…"
The tears fell, hot and fast.
⚡︎━━━━━━━━━━━━━━ ❖ ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━⚡︎
The complete release can be accessed through Patreon.com/Crimson_Lore