Harry Potter and the Great Old Ones

Chapter 406 Gaunt's Old House
After Harry recounted Dumbledore's witty rebuttal at Wizengamot, the entire kitchen was filled with a cheerful atmosphere.

“As long as Dumbledore supports you, they can’t possibly convict you, that goes without saying,” Ron said excitedly, as he divided large chunks of mashed potatoes into everyone’s plates.

“Yes, he helped me sort this out,” Harry said happily, while scooping up a large spoonful of mashed potatoes.

After the Wizengamot incident, Harry understood that as long as Dumbledore was still alive, no one—neither the Ministry of Magic nor Voldemort—could touch him.

This calmed Harry down considerably, freeing him from the anxiety that had plagued him since the start of summer vacation. Dumbledore's speech at the Wizengamot Trial Court gave Harry a sense of confidence, even a kind of illusion, as if Voldemort were nothing in the world as long as Dumbledore was there.

As he thought of this, Harry felt a sudden, sharp pain in the scar on his forehead, and he quickly reached out to cover it.

"What's wrong?" Hermione asked calmly. "The scar hurts again, doesn't it?"

“Scars… um…” Harry mumbled in response, “But no, it’s okay? This happens all the time these days…”

No one else noticed.

They were all serving food while cheering for Harry's lucky escape.

Fred, George, and Ginny started singing their nonsensical songs again.

Hermione looked a little worried, but before she could say anything, Ron said happily, "I bet Dumbledore will come tonight, you know, to celebrate with us."

“I don’t think he can make it, Ron,” Mr. Weasley said, placing a large plate of roast chicken in front of Harry. “He’s certainly very busy right now. He just handed Harry over to me at the Ministry of Magic and left in a hurry.”

"He's alright, he's alright, he's alright!" Ginny, George, and Fred's singing was absolutely unbearable.

"Shut up!" They only stopped making noise after Mrs. Weasley yelled in anger.

"Here, Harry, have some more." After shouting, Mrs. Weasley's tone suddenly became exceptionally gentle. She looked at him with a smile and then cut off both chicken legs from the roast chicken and put them on Harry's plate.

“Um, thank you, Mrs. Weasley… This, this is too much…” Harry said hesitantly, trying to stop her.

"Not much, not much. Look at you, you must have been so worried these past few days that you couldn't eat," Mrs. Weasley said. "Eat more, eat more, child."

Over the next few days, Harry couldn't help but notice that there was a man at Number Twelve Grimmauld Place who didn't seem particularly happy about his return to Hogwarts.

When Sirius first heard the news, he was overjoyed, gripping Harry's hand tightly and beaming with happiness like everyone else.

However, before long, he became even more sullen and melancholic than before, and spoke less and less. He barely spoke to Harry, and spent more and more time locked in his mother's room, keeping Buckbeak as his only companion.

“Don’t feel guilty!” Hermione said firmly. It was a few days later, when the three of them were cleaning a moldy cupboard on the fourth floor, that Harry revealed his thoughts to her and Ron, “You belong to Hogwarts, Sirius knows that. I personally think he’s being very selfish.”

“That’s a bit harsh,” Ron said, frowning as he scraped off a patch of mold stuck firmly to his finger. “If you were in his shoes, you wouldn’t want to be stuck in this house with no one to keep you company either.”

“He’ll have someone to keep him company!” Hermione said. “This is the headquarters of the Order of the Phoenix, isn’t it? He’s just hoping that Harry might come and stay with him.”

“I don’t think so,” Harry said, wringing out the rag. “When I asked him if I could stay here, he wouldn’t give me a straight answer.”

“He just didn’t want his hopes to get stronger,” Hermione said insightfully. “He probably felt a little guilty himself, because I think he did secretly hope you got fired. Then you would both be expelled.”

"Stop talking nonsense!" Harry and Ron retorted in unison.

Hermione simply shrugged and said nonchalantly, “Think what you want… but sometimes I think Ron’s mother was right, Harry, Sirius really doesn’t know whether you’re you or your father.” “So you think he’s a little mentally unstable?” Harry asked, somewhat annoyed.

“No, I just think he’s been lonely for a long time,” Hermione said simply. “I read a bit about psychology outside of the wizarding world during the summer. To be precise, he’s overwhelmed with grief and self-blame, so he’s become trapped in the illusions of the past, unconsciously associating everything related to his memories with him…”

At this point, Hermione suddenly paused, and Harry also froze, staring at Hermione—

"You...you...you're becoming more and more like Tiera..."

Harry said sadly.

……

Meanwhile, Tyrell, Dumbledore, and Slytherin walked together along country lanes in the countryside surrounding Little Hangletonshire, like a grandfather and grandson on a picnic.

Gaunt House is not hard to find. Apart from being registered with the Ministry of Magic, anyone, whether it's Dumbledore, Slytherin, or Tyrell, could immediately sense the strong traces of dark magic emanating from Gaunt House, which is six miles away, simply by standing in Little Hangletonshire.

But it wasn't until yesterday that Tyrell, Dumbledore, and Slytherin leisurely set off for Little Hangletonshire using Muggle transportation.

Because Voldemort was staying at Tom Riddle's ancestral home until 8:30 pm last night, and only moved to Malfoy Manor at that time.

So, in order not to alert the enemy, Tierra and her two companions decided to travel there as tourists.

“This should be it,” Dumbledore said, and the two old men and the young man stopped in front of a dilapidated old house.

The walls of the old house were covered with moss, and many of the roof tiles had fallen off, exposing the rafters here and there.

The house was surrounded by dense nettles, which grew so tall they reached the windows, which were very small and covered with thick layers of grime. A dead snake was nailed to the door.

"Why did my descendants... nail a snake to the door?" Salazars Lytrin asked in a hoarse voice.

“Thousands of years of inbreeding have ruined their brains,” Tierra asked with a laugh. “How about seeing your offspring like this?”

Salazars Slytherin: ...

Slytherin didn't answer, but only sighed helplessly and sadly, then waved his wand—

After healing Slytherin, Tyella gave him a wand, made directly from bones that grew from her own body and materials from a magic tree she could find.

Slytherin waved his wand, and the door to Gaunt Manor was broken open, revealing an even more dilapidated interior.

"Hehe..." Tierra chuckled, taking the lead and stepping into the dusty and muddy Gauntlet mansion. Then she nudged Dumbledore with her elbow. "Headmaster, don't touch anything else later."

Dumbledore: ...

What mischievous idea is this little fox plotting now?

I'm really sorry, but today the graduating seniors hosted a thank-you banquet for their teachers, and I went to the banquet. After that, I accompanied the seniors all over campus to take graduation photos, so this chapter is a bit short.

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(End of this chapter)