The Fall of Dumbledore: The White King

The Whispers

Harry squinted through the billowing steam on Platform 9 and 3/4, searching for his Slytherin mates. He felt Draco's hand clap him on the shoulder as they fought their way towards the gleaming Hogwarts Express.

"Oi, Potter! Malfoy!"

Pansy Parkinson's shrill voice made Harry grin as she waved them over, Blaise Zabini slouching coolly by her side.

"If it isn't the star attractions," Blaise smirked as they approached. "You two look far too well-rested after summer. Stay out of trouble, did you?"

"That's for us to know, Zabini," Draco answered with a wink at Harry. "Just a bit of light reading at the manor, nothing too scandalous."

Harry forced a tight smile, bumping fists with Blaise. He couldn't let on about the dark arts and Voldemort's secrets Lucius had introduced them to. That had to remain between him and Draco for now.

The ride passed in familiar back-and-forth banter and gossip. But as they pulled into Hogsmeade Station, Harry thought he caught a faint, serpentine whisper in the air...

It felt like no time at all before the silhouette of Hogwarts materialized against the darkening sky. As the first-years crossed the glassy black lake, that same thrill of homecoming shot through Harry.

Whatever mysteries awaited him and Draco this year, he knew Hogwarts would never lose its magic.

Later in the Great Hall during the welcoming feast, Harry froze mid-bite of treacle tart, his fork clattering to the golden plate. There it was again - that keening, faint hiss, like a tremulous gasping for air.

"You alright, mate?" Draco muttered, catching Harry's sudden stillness.

Harry nodded quickly, not wanting to let on in front of the others just yet. "Yeah, just...thought I heard something."

Over the next few weeks, the serpentine whispers continued to plague Harry's time at Hogwarts. He and Draco took to convening in hidden alcoves, comparing the chilling manifestations of what could only be dark magic.

One night after a late-night study session, Harry returned to the Slytherin dungeons, shrugging off his robes as he entered the common room. That's when he realized the small tattered book Lucius had given him was missing from his pocket.

"What the..." Harry muttered, giving his robes a vigorous shake. But the old, sinister-looking diary was nowhere to be found.

A cold feeling of dread washed over him. That book practically pulsed with dark energy - who knew what kind of havoc could be wrought if it fell into the wrong hands?

Harry tossed his robes aside, resolving to retrace his steps carefully and search for the missing diary first thing in the morning. For now, he was dead on his feet after studying.

The next day, after double Potions and a scoured search of the library, Harry was no closer to relocating Lucius's mysterious book. Draco pulled him aside in the courtyard, his pale eyes glinting with concern.

"Are you going to tell me what's got your knickers in a knot, Potter? You've been acting mental all day."

Harry hesitated, then gave a small shrug. "That book your dad gave me...the old one? I can't find it anywhere. It's gone missing."

Draco's brows shot up. "You're joking? But that book is—"

"I know," Harry cut him off, glancing around to make sure they weren't overheard. "Which is why I need to find it before someone else does. Before it...falls into the wrong hands."

Draco nodded slowly, understanding etched across his sharp features. For the next several days, the two boys searched high and low between classes, their prefect friends covering for them.

But the diary remained stubbornly missing, almost as if it had vanished into thin air. Harry couldn't shake a deepening sense of unease, a feeling that something was gradually stirring at the heart of the ancient castle.