You can read ahead up to 60 chapters on my Patreon: https://www.patreon.com/darkshadow6395
The story was not lengthy.
It detailed the supposed origin of the Deathly Hallows and the fable that sprang from it. The eldest brother, seeking to master fate, chose the Elder Wand. The second, yearning to defy mortality, chose the Resurrection Stone. The youngest, wise and wary, accepted the Cloak of Invisibility to elude Death's grasp. In the end, the eldest fell to arrogance and was slain, the second succumbed to despair and perished, and only the youngest, having lived a full life, passed his Cloak to his son before greeting Death as an old friend.
"What does this story have to do with Helga Hufflepuff's journal?" Ian frowned slightly. Had Helga Hufflepuff also encountered Death?
"Yes, Ian."
Dumbledore nodded, his expression distant, as though gazing into the past. "Within her journal, she recorded another tale— or perhaps, a more credible account of history?"
His voice wavered slightly, uncertain.
For, in truth—
"I cannot verify the authenticity of her account. I have searched far and wide, but no evidence has surfaced to confirm the events Helga Hufflepuff described."
Dumbledore's tone held a deep sorrow, laced with wistful longing.
His words only heightened Ian's intrigue.
"What events?"
This was undoubtedly a hidden secret, one unknown even to the most well-read wizards. Ian had little interest in the mundane gossip exchanged among students, but unraveling forgotten mysteries— that was another matter entirely.
"Much like the tale of the three brothers, Helga Hufflepuff claimed to have witnessed the other three founders entering into a pact with The Lord Of Dead."
"According to an ancient contract safeguarded within Ravenclaw's lineage, each of the three founders received a gift— but also incurred a cost…"
"On that matter, Helga was cryptic."
"She merely boasted in her writings that, among the four founders, she had been the wisest. Having read the tale of the three brothers, she had refused to partake in the bargain."
Dumbledore's voice carried an air of solemn reflection.
"Of course, with all due respect to the founders… considering Helga Hufflepuff's eventual demise, perhaps she was not quite as clever as she believed."
Only Albus Dumbledore would dare to make such a remark about the esteemed founders of Hogwarts.
"The Lord Of Dead?"
Ian, however, had latched onto something else entirely. A thought stirred in his mind, his youthful brow knitting together in contemplation.
"A mere supposition," Dumbledore admitted. "Helga Hufflepuff was known for her fondness for biographies and fantastical tales. It is possible she used the title as an alternative way of referring to Death itself."
Even he was unsure.
"Regardless, her journal rekindled my hope. She was, after all, a founder. Could the events she described be mere flights of fancy?"
Yet from Dumbledore's uncertain tone, it was clear— he had begun to question even Helga Hufflepuff's accounts.
"For the younger version of myself… if such a bargain were truly possible, I would have accepted any price— so long as it could undo the tragedy I had wrought."
"I dedicated years to unraveling the history of Ravenclaw's house, yet the contract Helga spoke of eluded me, just as the Resurrection Stone remained beyond my grasp."
"As for reaching beyond the veil… existing enchantments, age-old texts, forbidden curses— none proved effective. I even considered forging my own path, but to this day, I have failed."
Dumbledore let out a slow, weary breath. The weight of years was etched into his voice, yet his eyes gleamed with an intensity Ian had never seen before.
"I had chosen, at last, to bury this obsession… until you appeared. It seems fate has played a cruel jest, revealing in you a certainty I once believed impossible."
His voice trembled ever so slightly.
"Perhaps I should not ask, but I find that I cannot help myself… Ariana— what kind of life does she lead on the other side?"
There was something raw in his expression. A silent plea, barely contained in his tone and expression.
Ian hesitated.
"Professor Dumbledore, we both know that place is merely a waiting ground. Ariana lingers there— she does not seem to harbor any sort of resentment."
"At the very least, when she speaks of her elder brothers, it is always with fondness and longing. More than once, she has told me how kind you both were to her."
Dumbledore's breath caught.
Tears welled in his eyes, his voice breaking as he whispered—
"No… no, it was never like that. I was selfish. I convinced myself that Aberforth would suffice— that he could care for her while I pursued my own ambitions. To me, family was a burden."
"I was never the brother she deserved."
His anguish, long hidden behind the mask of a wise and unshakable headmaster, now lay bare. Dumbledore covered his face with a trembling hand, revealing a vulnerability that no one— not even his closest confidants— had ever witnessed before.
I don't know much about that place, but there is one thing I am certain of: hatred and resentment may linger, but Ariana remembers only the joy of her past now."
"Professor, she has long since chosen to forgive." Ian considered standing to pat Dumbledore on the back, but his small hand could only reach the headmaster's head.
So he patted that instead.
In doing so, he accomplished what even Voldemort wouldn't dare to imagine.
"Thank you, Ian, for letting me know she is there." Dumbledore's voice was low and hoarse, and when he raised his head, the look in his eyes sent a chill down Ian's spine.
"Professor! I'm trying to comfort you; you can't look at me like that. Ariana warned me not to reveal this secret— what she truly wants is for you and your brother to live your lives!"
Ian may have exaggerated slightly in his words.
But he had to say something.
Otherwise...
Given Dumbledore's emotions today, Ian couldn't be entirely sure that he wouldn't wake up tomorrow, head to class, and find a crowd gathered outside the headmaster's office, staring in horror at the hanging body of Albus Dumbledore.
With his tongue grotesquely sticking out.
Perhaps, in a tragic bid for a family reunion, Albus Dumbledore would take his own life, and beside him, Aberforth— deceived into sharing his fate— would hang himself as well.
Just imagining that scene was too dreadful!
"You needn't worry about that, Ian. I won't take any drastic actions."
Though Dumbledore spoke with reassurance, Ian would wager his roommate's limited-edition dragon-hide gloves that he caught a fleeting glimmer of disappointment in the headmaster's eyes.
[Thought Perception] never lies.
Old Dumbledore was as skilled at spinning tales as he was at Transfiguration!
Ian let out a relieved sigh.
"Ariana is content where she is, and she will wait for you for as long as needed. She has friends there, and perhaps she's even happier than she was in this world."
"After all, at least in that place, Voldemort isn't lurking about... no Voldemort standing upright, plotting, and munching on licorice wands." Ian felt compelled to add a touch of reassurance.
"Riddle won't be a threat for much longer." Dumbledore's tone was almost too candid, his eyes flickering with a meaning Ian couldn't quite grasp.
"Huh? Are you asking me to tell Ariana the tale of how Dumbledore outmaneuvered Voldemort? Should I break it into chapters? Would you like some embellishments to elevate your heroic grandeur?" Ian asked, eyes widening in mock surprise.
"..."
Dumbledore was momentarily silent as if caught off guard by Ian's cheek.
"Oh, that reminds me— Ariana mentioned that if I ever faced trouble while alive, I could seek help from her elder brother. Do you think her words still hold weight?"
Ian suddenly recalled what had transpired in the Twilight Zone before the school year began.
"Of course."
Dumbledore studied the young wizard before him.
His voice was gentle yet carried undeniable gravity. "Ian Prince, from this day forward, you may consider the house of Dumbledore your most steadfast ally in the wizarding world."
It was a solemn promise.
"Honor the ancestors, honor Hogwarts, honor the founders, and, most importantly, honor my good friend Ariana." Ian's heart swelled with satisfaction, knowing he had secured both compensation and an apology.
This was a vow from the headmaster himself!
Perhaps now, when he left this office, he could walk through the corridors of Hogwarts with a bit more confidence. Making a few more powerful friends never hurt anyone!
"I heard Aurora was taken away by her family. I still owe her a favor. Will she be returning to Hogwarts?" Ian suddenly thought of another friend.
"Due to the unfortunate events surrounding the last Defense Against the Dark Arts professor, Miss Grindelwald remained with her family for a time. However, she has now returned to Hogwarts, though she won't resume classes until tomorrow." Dumbledore's expression grew pensive, as though recalling a recent conversation in the highest tower of the castle.
(To Be Continued…)