Harry and Hermione: I trust you

Chapter fifteen

In the dead of night, beneath the canopy of a dense forest, Harry found himself locked in a deadly struggle against Viktor Krum and a group of hooded figures—Death Eaters, he realized with a sinking heart. The air crackled with dark magic as spells flew through the shadows, illuminating the darkness with bursts of deadly light.

With a grim determination, Harry unleashed everything he had, his wand blazing with the intensity of his fury. But the Death Eaters were relentless, their attacks coming fast and fierce, each strike more powerful than the last.

Summoning his ice breath, Harry unleashed a torrent of freezing cold that enveloped his foes in a sheen of ice. For a moment, it seemed as though victory was within his grasp, but the Death Eaters merely laughed, their laughter chilling Harry to the bone.

With a wave of his wand, Krum sent a barrage of curses hurtling towards Harry, each one striking with deadly precision. With lightning-fast reflexes, Harry dodged and deflected, but he could feel his strength waning with every passing moment.

Desperation clawed at Harry's heart as he fought to keep the darkness at bay, but the Death Eaters were too strong, too powerful. And then, in a flash of blinding light, Harry felt a searing pain tear through his chest, his vision swimming with waves of agony.

As he stumbled backwards, blood staining his robes, Harry felt a sense of overwhelming defeat wash over him. The Death Eaters closed in, their laughter echoing in his ears as darkness closed in around him.

But even in his darkest hour, Harry refused to surrender. With one final burst of strength, he summoned every ounce of magic he possessed, unleashing a torrent of power that sent the Death Eaters reeling.

And then, with a defiant roar, Harry fell to the forest floor, his vision fading to black as the darkness claimed him. He had fought with everything he had, but in the end, it was not enough.

***

The stone halls of Gringotts Bank echoed with the sound of Hadrian's footsteps as he made his way through the labyrinthine corridors, his heart heavy with anticipation and dread. He had come seeking answers, seeking the truth about his heritage and his identity.

As he approached the gilded doors of the bank's inner sanctum, Hadrian's hands trembled with a mixture of fear and uncertainty. But he pushed aside his doubts, his determination driving him forward as he stepped into the dimly lit chamber beyond.

Seated behind a towering marble desk, a goblin banker regarded Hadrian with a steely gaze, his expression unreadable. "How may I assist you, Mr. Pendragon?" the goblin asked, his voice as cold and sharp as the blade of a dagger.

Summoning his courage, Hadrian spoke, his voice firm with resolve. "I need to know the truth about my blood status and my parentage," he said, his words echoing in the silence of the chamber.

The goblin regarded him for a moment, his eyes narrowing in suspicion. "And why, may I ask, do you seek such information?" he inquired, his tone laced with skepticism.

Hadrian hesitated for a moment, steeling himself for the revelation that awaited him. "Because everything I thought I knew about myself... it's all been a lie," he confessed, his voice raw with emotion. "I need to know the truth, no matter how painful it may be."

With a nod, the goblin reached for a scroll of parchment, unrolling it with a flourish and scanning its contents with keen interest. After a moment of perusal, he turned back to Hadrian, his expression grave.