Kamar-Taj, Secret Space.
Clang! Clang! Clang!
The crisp chime of bells rang through the vast, mystical grounds of Kamar-Taj. What was once a silent sanctuary soon filled with the sounds of students emerging from classrooms, their laughter and chatter echoing across the open courtyards and sprawling lawns. The air shimmered with energy, making Kamar-Taj feel alive with vitality.
From a high tower, Minerva McGonagall stood by a grand window, looking down upon the bustling scene. Her heart felt a mix of emotions as she observed the wonder before her. Compared to Hogwarts, Lockhart's Kamar-Taj was significantly larger. Perhaps due to its existence in a hidden dimensional space, its architecture and landscapes far exceeded her imagination.
She marveled at the diversity of structures—a serene bamboo teahouse beside grand wooden halls, marble palaces alongside towering steel skyscrapers. Ancient pyramids of desert sands coexisted with floating islands that hovered effortlessly in the sky. The very air seemed to pulse with magic, a harmonious blend of different cultures and civilizations.
McGonagall looked upward, her eyes catching the reflection of an ever-changing world. A mesmerizing sight unfolded in the sky—a shifting panorama of Britain's green countryside, Egypt's golden dunes, Antarctica's icy expanse, and bustling Muggle metropolises. Each scene shifted in and out of focus, some fleeting like a dream, others lingering long enough to glimpse the movement of people within. It was as if she were gazing into alternate realities, or perhaps visions of distant lands in real time.
This place was unlike anything she had ever seen. The sheer scale and depth of Kamar-Taj filled her with a strange longing. For the first time, she felt the urge to bring change to Hogwarts, to modernize its teachings, its traditions—to ensure that it did not fall behind the likes of Kamar-Taj.
But her thoughts quickly refocused on the reason she had come.
She turned sharply and made her way toward the training chamber at the back. Pushing open the wooden doors, warm sunlight streamed in, casting a golden glow on Harry's pale face. A faint blush of color had returned to his cheeks, though his body remained still. Sirius and Snape stood close, their gazes fixed on Harry with unwavering intensity.
Not far away, Lockhart's students, Remy and Vera, stood in quiet anticipation, awaiting the next step.
"Mr. Black, do not worry," Vera reassured softly. "Here in Kamar-Taj, within the protective aura of the Dream World, foreign energies will be suppressed. Even the soul—under its influence—will not worsen over time."
Sirius barely acknowledged her words. His attention remained fixed on his godson, his grip tightening on the arms of his chair as if bracing for the worst.
"As for fully resolving Harry's condition, we must wait just a little longer. Everything will become clear once the headmaster arrives," Vera added.
Sirius gave a curt nod, mumbling his thanks, though his mind was elsewhere. His entire being was focused on Harry's fate.
Vera, however, took a subtle glance at Snape.
"Professor Snape, have some water," Remy offered, almost deferentially.
Snape merely gave him a sharp look before accepting the drink with a slight nod. Over time, Remy had learned potioneering from Snape, enduring his endless criticisms yet gaining invaluable knowledge. The Potions Master had been ruthless, but his teachings were unmatched. And while Snape had never been one for sentimentality, Remy had managed to find a way to earn his favor—occasionally trading rare potions, including the coveted Elixir of Luck.
"Where is Lockhart?" Snape asked, his voice calm but expectant.
"The headmaster should be arriving soon," Remy replied uncertainly.
"Professor, the headmaster is still deep within the Dream World, making final adjustments," Vera added. "He cannot leave easily. Once his preparations are complete, he will be here."
McGonagall observed the exchange with some curiosity. It intrigued her how Sirius and Snape received such starkly different treatment in this place. However, she chose to remain silent, keeping her focus on Harry's condition.
Flitwick and Sprout had remained at Hogwarts, occupied with their classes. But as deputy headmistress, McGonagall had ensured all was in order before making the journey to Kamar-Taj.
She took a step forward and whispered an incantation, her wand moving in a graceful arc.
"Soul Detection."
A gentle glow enveloped Harry's body. The spell revealed that his soul was encased in a vast, warm energy—shielded, suspended in a near-stasis. McGonagall exhaled slowly, relieved. Whatever magic Lockhart had woven into this Dream World, it was stabilizing Harry's soul, preventing further degradation.
Then, suddenly—
A low hum filled the room.
A shimmering humanoid figure materialized before them, its form ethereal, shifting like ripples on the surface of water.
"Greetings, headmaster," Remy and Vera said in unison, bowing their heads slightly.
Sirius took a sharp step forward. "Lockhart! Finally! Look at Harry—can you fix him?"
Lockhart gave Sirius a small nod but didn't immediately reply. His gaze swept over Harry's still form before shifting toward Snape. Their eyes met, and for a brief moment, an unspoken understanding passed between them.
Snape's hands clenched at his sides, his breath catching slightly. He could already sense what Lockhart had found, and anticipation flickered in his usually cold eyes.
"Don't worry," Lockhart finally said, his voice steady. "As long as I am here, Harry will be fine."
He stepped forward and raised his hand. A golden ripple of energy spread outward, cascading over Harry's body and into the depths of his mind.
A gentle wind stirred through the open window as an image took shape above Harry's forehead—a translucent projection of his brain. And within it, everyone could see the problem clearly.
A small, black shard embedded deep within his consciousness.
A Horcrux fragment.
Around the shard, faint golden threads wove a protective barrier, attempting to contain its corruption. But the fragment pulsed, radiating malevolence—Voldemort's essence, a lingering remnant of dark magic.
Snape's breath hitched. His sharp eyes focused on the golden threads, recognizing their energy in an instant. Love magic—Lily's magic. Her protection had wrapped around the fragment, restraining it, keeping it at bay. Even in death, her love safeguarded her son.
"Lockhart—" Snape started, but the other man raised a hand, signaling for silence.
"Everyone, be quiet," Lockhart commanded. "I need to further dissect Harry's soul to sever Voldemort's influence."
Yes, it was the Horcrux fragment. The horrors wrought by Voldemort and Tom Riddle—the mass killings, the goblin slaughter—had stirred the darkness buried within Harry. The residual hatred, fear, and agony from those deaths had seeped into each of Voldemort's Horcruxes, intensifying their corruption.
Most of Voldemort's Horcruxes were impervious—crafted with unnatural resilience. But Harry... he was different. His soul was young, vulnerable. And now, that vulnerability had made him susceptible to the festering evil within.
They had to act swiftly.
Before it consumed him completely.
...
==============================================
Support me at [email protected]/goldengaruda and check out more chapter of this or more early access chapter of my other fanfic translation.
=============================================