Chapter 89: The Invitation
Disclaimer:
Harry Potter and all of its characters belong to J.K. Rowling.
I own only the original characters I create.
"Dialogue"
'Thoughts'
-Author notes-
Chapter 89: The Invitation
The training room was filled with the sound of rushing wind and the crack of splintering wood.
Harry moved through the space with ease, while his wand became a blur of motion.
He had been practicing for a long time...though he wasn't sure how long it had been. Time had lost all meaning inside the castle walls.
The grimoire's inner library had given him the knowledge, but only the real world could train his body to keep up with his mind.
He focused his intent, visualising the spell, and swung his wand in a sharp, downward arc.
"Ventus Gladius!"
A blade of condensed air shot from his wand, slicing through the training dummy with surgical precision. The straw‑stuffed figure split in two, its halves falling to the stone floor with a soft thud.
Harry lowered his wand, breathing heavily. Sweat dripped from his forehead, and his arm ached from the repeated motions. But he felt satisfied. The spell had worked perfectly.
"Again," he muttered, turning to face the next dummy.
He raised his wand and-
"Master Harry!"
Harry spun around, his wand instinctively pointing towards the source of the interruption. But it was only Dibble, the house-elf, standing in the doorway with his large eyes wide with alarm.
Harry lowered his wand quickly, his heart still pounding. "Dibble! I almost-I could have hurt you!. What were you thinking?. I told you not to interrupt me in the middle of my training."
Dibble bowed his head, his ears drooping. "Dibble apologises for the interruption, Master Harry. But Dibble was worried. Master Harry has been training for six hours without a break."
Harry blinked, his mind struggling to process the information. Six hours? It felt like only one. He glanced at the window and was surprised to see that the sun had moved across the sky.
"Six hours," he repeated, his voice sounding hollow.
Dibble nodded earnestly. "Dibble has been watching from afar. Master Harry has pushed himself too hard. He needs to get some rest, eat, and drink. Dibble does not want Master Harry to collapse."
Harry lowered his wand fully and placed it back in its holster, his shoulders slumping with exhaustion. Now that the house-elf had mentioned it, he realised how tired he truly was. His muscles ached. His eyes felt heavy. His stomach growled.
"I suppose you're right," Harry admitted, running a hand through his damp hair. "I lost track of time in here."
"Dibble is happy to hear Master Harry agrees," the elf said, his expression brightening. "Dibble has also brought good news. Master Harry's owl has returned."
Harry's heart leaped. "Vesper? He's back?" It's been a while since he had left, and he was starting to get worried for the owl. " Is Vesper okay?"
Dibble nodded, producing a small, wrapped parcel from behind his back. "He arrived just moments ago. He was tired, so Dibble gave him some water and a treat. He is resting now, but he brought this for Master Harry."
Harry took the parcel, his hands trembling slightly from the exhaustion. He had sent Vesper to Daphne weeks ago, hoping the owl could find her in France. He had not been certain if the letter would reach her.
"Thank you, Dibble," Harry said, his voice thick with emotion. "Could you prepare a bath for me? I want to get all this sweat off before grabbing something to eat."
Dibble bowed. "Of course, Master Harry. Dibble will have it ready immediately."
The house-elf disappeared with a soft pop, leaving Harry alone in the training room.
Harry walked through the corridors of the Potter Castle. He opened the parcel as he moved, revealing a letter and a large silver coin.
He unfolded the letter first, his eyes scanning the elegant handwriting.
"Dear Harry,
Thank you for your letter. I cannot tell you how relieved I was to hear that you are safe. I have been worried about you since the day you left Hogwarts.
I also want to thank you for bringing "him" back to me. You know who I mean. Words cannot express what it means to me...to all of us.
Please be careful, Harry. The world is more dangerous than ever, and there are many who would wish you harm. Stay safe, and know that you have a friend in me.
The coin is a Portkey. It will become active one week from now, at noon. All you have to do is hold it, and it will bring you to us. I hope you can come. I would very much like to see you again.
P.S. It's my birthday next week. I would love it if you could visit.
Your friend,
Daphne."
Harry read the letter twice, a smile spreading across his face. Daphne was safe.
"And it looks like Lord Greengrass made it to his family." he was sure that Tom and the other members of the order must have helped make this happen.
But the mention of her birthday made him stop.
Harry's eyes widened. It was Daphne's birthday already. He had been so consumed by his training, so lost in the grimoire's endless halls, that he had truly lost all track of time.
He had escaped Hogwarts in January. It was now March. If he hadn't left school, he would still have almost three more months to finish his second year.
However, even though only two months had passed in the real world, because he had spent so long inside the grimoire, it already felt like almost two years to Harry. The days had blurred together, each one filled with training, study, and preparations.
He didn't regret leaving Hogwarts. But he did miss being surrounded by other people. The castle felt very solitary, despite the company offered by Dibble and the living portraits.
He looked at the silver coin in his hand, then back at the letter.
"It's Daphne's birthday," he murmured. "I should bring her a present." It was also going to be his first time meeting the rest of her family.
He thought about Diagon Alley. It would be risky to leave the castle...Tom and Bellatrix had warned him to stay hidden. But it had felt like an eternity since he had last seen the outside world.
"It should be fine," he reasoned. "Diagon Alley should be quite empty in the middle of the week."
But there was one problem. He needed money.
The loan he had received from the Gringotts goblins had all been invested in his school supplies. When he left Hogwarts, he had been left with essentially nothing.
Harry looked down at the ring on his finger. It was the ring that identified him as Lord Potter, and he never took it off.
His grandfather's words echoed in his mind.
"Remember that with that ring, you can access the castle's vault."
"Mmm...the castle's vault. I haven't checked it yet, but there should be a few coins at least."
The Potter vault at Gringotts had been emptied by Dumbledore, but his grandfather, Fleamont, must have left some money at the castle, at least. Harry wasn't expecting much, but it was worth taking a look.
"Right," he said to himself. "Let's see what's down there."
He looked down at himself. His dirty robes were covered in sweat.
"But first...I should take a bath."
<><>
The vault was hidden beneath the castle, accessible through a concealed door in the study. Harry descended the spiral staircase, his wand casting a soft light ahead of him.
At the end of the staircase, it appeared to be an empty chamber, but if one looked closely, they would find a circular hole at the end of the far wall.
Harry approached and inserted the Potter Ring in the hole.
A moment later, he heard a soft click, and part of the wall to his left moved aside, revealing an entrance.
The chamber of the real treasure did not look too big. It was lined with stone shelves. Dust covered everything, and the air was cool and still.
Harry scanned the shelves, his eyes adjusting to the dim light.
He saw old books, faded scrolls, and a few pieces of jewellery. But in the centre of the room, resting on a stone pedestal, was a massive chest.
It was made of dark, polished wood, reinforced with iron bands. The Potter crest, the cloaked stag, was carved into the lid.
"Well...that should be it." He knew that if there was any money in here, it should be in that chest.
Harry approached it slowly, his heart pounding. He lifted the heavy lid, and his breath caught in his throat.
"Whoa!" The chest was filled with gold. Thousands upon thousands of gold Galleons gleamed in the wandlight, their coins stacked neatly in rows. Harry stared, unable to believe his eyes. He had expected a few dozen coins at most. This was a small fortune. Much more than what he expected to find.
"Thank you, Grandfather," he whispered.
He began to gather some of the coins, filling a small pouch. But as he reached into the chest, he noticed something out of the corner of his eye.
"What is that?" Something was hanging in the corner. Like a piece of cloth.
Harry left the bag and walked towards the corner. "A robe?" He had found many beautiful robes stored in the castle already. In fact, he had enough clothes for ten lifetimes.
But this one looked different. It was not like any robe he had ever seen.
The fabric was dark, almost black, but it shimmered with a faint, iridescent sheen, like the scales of a great serpent.
As he grabbed it, he realized how light it was, and despite this, Harry could feel the strength woven into its threads. The material seemed to move and shift on its own, as if it were alive.
Harry held it up, examining it closely. The robe was lined with silver thread, and the Potter crest was embroidered on the left breast. It was beautiful.
A tag was attached to the collar, written in elegant script:
"The Dragonhide Robe of Lord Arcturus Potter. A gift from the Founder, Aldric Potter, to his firstborn son and most trusted warrior. Enchanted to resist curses and deflect physical blows. Woven with the scales of a Welsh Green and the fire-resistant hide of a Hungarian Horntail."
Harry's eyes widened. A dragonhide robe crafted by no other but the founder of his house. Aldric Potter...the creator of the Grimoire.
Harry ran his fingers over the fabric, feeling the strange, almost alive texture. It was warm to the touch, and he could sense the magic woven into every thread.
This robe had belonged to one of his ancestors. And now it belonged to him.
He held it against his chest, feeling its warmth. He knew, with absolute certainty, that it would protect him. And he knew, deep down, that he would need it.
"Maybe I should wear it when going outside." He had already decided that tomorrow morning, he would make a trip to Diagon Alley.
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