Whispers of The Dark Lord

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That evening at dinner, Harry couldn't stop stealing glances at Lucius Malfoy seated imposingly at the head of the long mahogany table. After discovering those ancient volumes on Voldemort in the Malfoy library, he was burning with questions.

"Mr. Malfoy, sir?" Harry ventured once the house elves had cleared away the main course. "If you don't mind me asking...what do you know about the Dark Lord?"

Lucius set down his goblet of elf-made wine, his pale eyes glittering with what looked almost like pride. Draco and Narcissa watched him closely.

"A great deal, I should hope," Lucius said at last. "My family were among the Dark Lord's closest...confidants during the war against the Ministry. We studied the darkest arts by his side."

He leaned back, steepling his long pale fingers. "You see, Potter, the Dark Lord was a wizard of exceptional vision and power. He sought to protect the ancient houses and bloodlines of the wizarding world. For too long, our kind have been diluted and undermined by Mudbloods and Squibs."

Harry's insides squirmed at the derogatory words, but he leaned in closer.

"But sir...if he was so powerful, how did he end up...well, you know..." Harry traced a faint lightning bolt on his forehead.

"Vanquished by an infant?" Lucius's lip curled in distaste. "A momentary lapse, I can assure you. One that the Dark Lord will soon rectify when he returns to regain his rightful place leading our kind."

"You mean...you think he's coming back?" Harry whispered, ignoring Draco's frantic head-shaking beside him. Narcissa looked distinctly uncomfortable.

"I don't just think it, Potter," Lucius breathed, his gray eyes burning intensely. "I know it. And those of us who stayed loyal through the darkness will be richly rewarded when that day comes."

The next morning, Lucius announced they would be traveling to Diagon Alley to purchase school supplies for the coming term at Hogwarts.

"I also have business to attend to at Gringotts," he said crisply over breakfast. Narcissa seemed preoccupied, stirring her tea absently.

At the magical shopping district, they ducked into Flourish & Blotts after visiting the robe shop. While Draco browsed the Quidditch section, Lucius steered Harry to the back of the dim bookstore.

He reached up and took down a small, moleskin-bound book, pressing it into Harry's hands.

"A gift for you, dear boy," Lucius murmured. "Let's just call it...a key to unraveling certain mysteries about the Dark Lord and your peculiar scar."

Harry turned over the unmarked, yellowed book. An unsettling emanation seemed to pulse between its covers.

"Use it wisely on your independent studies this year," Lucius went on. "I trust it will prove...illuminating."

A while later, the trio passed through the grand marble lobby of Gringotts Bank, headed for the vaults far beneath. As they approached the head goblin's station, the toothy creature called out in its reedy voice.

"Harry Potter! I have a letter for you, on the matter of your inheritance."

Harry accepted the heavy parchment envelope, perplexed. Lucius and Draco watched closely as Harry broke the wax seal and scanned its contents.

It was a formal letter requesting Harry's presence at Gringotts before the start of his third year at Hogwarts. The goblin scribes needed to go over inheritances and titles passed down through his family's lineage - Potter, Peverell, and perhaps others.

Harry looked up, stunned. "My...inheritance? But I didn't know..."

"Didn't know what, precisely?" Lucius cut in smoothly. "That you were born to an ancient pure-blood legacy? One of wealth, power, and unfortunately, many buried secrets?"

The glint in his eyes sent a shiver through Harry. As they passed through the vault antechamber, Lucius drew Harry aside, pressing something small and leatherbound into his hands.

"Let this old journal...facilitate certain developments at Hogwarts this year," he said in an undertone. "Events that could prove most illuminating about your past."

With one last enigmatic look, Lucius rejoined Draco and they moved on through the vaults. Harry turned over the tattered blank book, its cracked pages whispering of mysteries, and more than a hint of darkness, waiting to be uncovered.

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