Harry Potter: Beyond the Parselveil

"Right this way, my lord," Thimrill said, bowing slightly as he guided Aaric through the ancient corridor. The path twisted gently, lit by enchanted torches, each flame flickering in a quiet rhythm. The air was calm but expectant.

They stopped in front of a domed chamber. At its center stood a towering marble statue—silver and coiled, its surface smooth and cold like moonlight.

Aaric's eyes widened. "Vasuki," he whispered and instinctively pressed his hands together in reverence.

"Thank you… for the new life you gave me—"

Before the words fully left his lips, a soft hand rested on his head.

The castle vanished.

He was now standing in a quiet garden. Familiar. Beyond time. Before him stood Vasuki, radiant and still, and beside her was a pale woman with long black hair and thoughtful eyes—Aeloria Nightshade.

Vasuki smiled. "Thank god for that. I was nearby when it happened. I'm glad I was."

Aaric didn't speak. He ran forward and wrapped his arms around her waist, hugging her tightly.

She returned the hug and stroked his back. "I missed you too."

Then, with a small flourish, she brought out a picnic box.

"I made this for you," she said.

The scent hit him instantly. Aaric's stomach growled, and he laughed before digging in, cheeks quickly puffing with food.

The three sat together under the trees. No pressure. No expectations. Just the silence of people who understood one another.

"We can't meet like this very often anymore," Vasuki said after a moment. "Now that you're living again, contact with divine realms becomes… limited. When you were only a soul, it was easier."

Aaric slowed his chewing and glanced down.

He didn't want to go. So he turned instead to Aeloria.

"Thank you, Miss Aeloria Nightshade… for everything you've done for me."

She smiled gently. "You're welcome."

Vasuki leaned forward, resting her chin on her hand. "Have you noticed more scales in your body lately?"

Aaric nodded with a mouthful of food.

She poked his cheek. "Those are part of you now. Unlike the first one I gave you—which was a piece of me—these new ones are born from our bond. They can be shared. Anyone you give one to may receive my blessing… or, if they're more aligned with someone else, another cosmic power entirely."

Aaric blinked. "But how are they made?"

Vasuki lifted him onto her lap, speaking calmly.

"They grow from the heart. Not just physically. I don't mean the muscle—though it begins there. I mean the center of you. Who you are. The more you grow, the more they appear."

"Can I give them to anyone?" he asked.

"You can," she said. "But the result isn't in your control. Your gift opens a path—but where that path leads depends on the other person's spirit."

Aeloria watched them quietly, her hands folded in her lap. Aaric looked so at peace in Vasuki's arms. She wanted to play with him too, maybe even hold his hand or ruffle his hair.

"I'll be able to visit more often one day," Vasuki added, brushing Aaric's hair with her fingers. "If your connection grows strong enough, I might even gain a form in your world."

She kissed his forehead.

"But for now… you have to return."

The light around them began to fade.

"You could've let me play with him too," Aeloria muttered, puffing out her cheeks.

Vasuki laughed. "Next time. I promise."

—

After returning to the real world, Aaric looked down at the ground for a moment and then looked up at the statue in gratitude. Thimrill just stood to the side; he seemed to know what had happened.

—

Simon was walking down the hall of Gringotts Bank on business when he noticed the looks the goblins were giving him. The usual expressions, as if he were a fat cow walking into the lions' den, had changed—now they showed shock.

As he approached the head receptionist, he said, "The Hawthorne seat wishes to make a deal with Gringotts." The goblin looked up, pretending to notice him only then—a little trick goblins used to show they didn't hold wizard lords in high regard.

But as soon as the goblin truly saw him, his pupils shrank. It seemed he hadn't noticed the sword at Simon's side before.

The goblin's demeanor changed instantly. "Welcome, my lord. Let us discuss your business in a private room." He stood up and led Simon to a luxurious private chamber.

Snacks and tea were brought in. The goblin bowed slightly. "Allow me a moment as I bring someone of higher standing to help in the discussions." He walked out calmly at first, but once he thought he was out of Simon's view, he started running.

Simon chuckled in the quiet room as he sipped his tea. "Good tea," he muttered.

He didn't have to wait long. The earlier goblin returned with Zargrin Ironquill—Director of Gringotts and High Chancellor of the Goblin Enclave.

Zargrin was the highest authority among goblins, the unofficial king. Even the worst of pure-blood supremacists had to show him courtesy—he managed their fortunes.

Zargrin greeted Simon respectfully, unable to hide his greed and astonishment as he looked at the sword, though he said nothing about it. "How may Gringotts help Lord Hawthorne?"

"I have been importing potion ingredients from India and magical beast parts and wand-making equipment from the US for some time now," Simon said, pausing briefly before continuing. "I will be expanding the venture, and with the help of the Greengrass family, I will export British goods to other magical societies. I want Gringotts to assist with transport and officiate the business. I assume your network will be essential for logistical support of my goods and services."

Simon didn't hide much. Goblins might be greedy, but they weren't stupid enough to reveal the secrets of a lord on the level of the Hawthornes.

Zargrin didn't even need to think. "Done. And in exchange, I want the sword."

Simon looked at him. "No. Know your worth."

Simon's aura silenced Zargrin, who chastised himself inwardly for the lapse in control. "I apologize for my outburst," he said through gritted teeth.

Simon leaned back. "You will get a stake for managing the books and logistics. These papers have all the finer details. Don't try to negotiate—I'll just walk out."

Negotiating with goblins was like swimming upstream. Simon came prepared. The deal was generous, and Zargrin, though unhappy about losing control of the conversation, accepted it.

"The terms are well thought-out and agreeable, Lord Hawthorne. Our representatives can iron out the finer details."

Simon nodded but only after securing Gringotts' official stamp on the document.

"I do have a request, if the kind lord will indulge me," Zargrin said.

Simon knew what was coming and drew the sword, placing it on the table. The goblins were surprised to be seen through but recovered quickly, examining the sword as if nothing else mattered.

"May I touch it?" Zargrin asked.

Simon nodded.

After a while, one of the goblins looked up. "How?"

There were a million questions in that one word.

"The greed of your kind has blinded and stagnated you as a species," Simon replied. "This is the result of goblins who don't hoard knowledge, but share it. Goblins I respect and trust."

He didn't linger after that.

Later that evening, back at Hawthorne Manor, Simon returned home quietly. The soft click of the front door didn't go unnoticed.

Edwina looked up from her reading chair by the fireplace. "Back early," she said.

Simon hung his coat by the door, then placed the sheathed sword gently on the stand beside the mantle. "It went well."

Edwina raised a brow. "Did it?"

Simon walked over and sat across from her. "Gringotts is on board. Logistics, accounting, the whole network. It's official now."

She gave a slow nod. "And the sword? Did they ask?"

Simon smiled faintly. "Of course they did. Zargrin himself."

Edwina laughed under her breath. "And let me guess… you told him no in the most Simon Hawthorne way possible."

"I reminded him to know his worth," Simon said, eyes calm. "Then I let them hold it. That shut them up."

Edwina leaned forward, elbows on knees. "And what did they say?"

Simon shrugged. "They asked 'how'."

Edwina studied him. "You told them?"

"I told them what they needed to hear. That greed has stagnated them. That not all goblins hoard. Some share. And those are the ones I trust."

She smiled and reached out to squeeze his hand. "You really do walk into every room like you own it."

"Not every room," he said, lacing his fingers with hers. "Just the ones that matter."

She stood and walked behind him, wrapping her arms around his shoulders from behind. "I'm proud of you."

Simon exhaled, letting the day fall away. "Aaric's going to change the world one day. I just have to make sure the path stays clear."

"And I'll make sure he doesn't lose himself along the way," Edwina whispered.

A/n: the next chapter will be the final one before the Hogwarts arc, i hope you like the story so far. I wanted to establish Aaric's parents as key figures and not just side characters. As Simon said he will be cleaning Aaric's path some some time now.

Stones and comments people, that's how you get laid ...