HP: god of potions

Chapter 72

Gray lay in the middle of the massive crater, motionless, his gaze fixed on the dark egg in his hand. The remnants of the battle surrounded him: scorched earth, shattered rocks, and a faint hum of unstable magic lingering in the air. His mind churned with thoughts as he stared at the egg, his expression unreadable. Minutes turned into twenty, the silence broken only by the occasional crackle of energy dissipating into the atmosphere. His golden hue had dimmed, leaving him shirtless and surrounded by destruction, but his body bore no visible injuries. He remained there, still as stone, when faint pops of Apparition echoed in the distance.

Dumbledore appeared first, his blue robes billowing as he surveyed the devastation, his face heavy with concern. Behind him followed several professors—McGonagall, Snape, and Flitwick—each displaying their own shock at the sight before them. Aurors from the Ministry of Magic arrived moments later, their stances tense and wands at the ready. The area was unrecognizable, a scene of utter ruin. Dumbledore's brow furrowed deeply as he stepped forward, his voice soft but laced with gravitas. "I feel... ancient magic here," he said, almost to himself, as his gaze swept the scene. McGonagall clasped her hands together, her mouth tightening. "This... this level of destruction—it's unimaginable," she whispered. The Aurors exchanged wary glances, muttering amongst themselves, unsure of what they were witnessing.

As they scanned the area, their eyes finally settled on the lone figure in the center of the crater. "There," an Auror pointed, and the group moved cautiously closer. Gray sat unmoving, his eyes still on the egg. Dumbledore's concern deepened as he descended the slope of the crater. "Are you all right?" he asked, his voice gentle but probing. Gray slowly rose to his feet, his movements deliberate. He stood tall, his bare torso reflecting the eerie glow of the magic still lingering in the air. He looked at Dumbledore with an unreadable expression before speaking in a low, gravelly tone, "Voldemort resurrected."

Gasps rippled through the group. "What? How?" McGonagall asked, her voice sharp with alarm. The Aurors began whispering furiously among themselves, their faces pale with shock. Dumbledore, ever calm, stepped closer, his eyes searching Gray's face. "Where is he? And are you okay?" he asked, his tone measured but heavy with concern. Gray's gaze didn't waver as he replied simply, "He is dead now." The weight of his words settled over the group like a storm cloud. "You mean to tell me you killed the Dark Lord?" the Minister of Magic blurted out, disbelief evident in his voice. Gray turned his emotionless eyes toward the Minister, his tone cold and detached as he said, "Believe what you want, just don't bother me for now."

Without another word, Gray raised his hand, casting an Ascending Charm wandlessly and nonverbally. The spell lifted him effortlessly into the air, leaving the group below stunned. "Did he just..." one Auror stammered, unable to complete the sentence. McGonagall, still staring at the spot where Gray had stood, murmured, "I suppose we were right last year." Her voice carried a mix of awe and apprehension. Dumbledore, however, remained silent, his expression thoughtful as his piercing blue eyes lingered on the dissipating figure of Gray. The tension in the air hung thick as the group grappled with what they had just witnessed.

-scene change-

Gray returned to Hogwarts, his face emotionless and his steps heavy. As he entered the castle, Hermione, Harry, and Ron approached him. "Are you okay?" Harry asked, his tone filled with concern. Gray let out a tired sigh and replied, "Yes. Look, whatever you're about to say, I'm not in the mood. Just give me space." Without waiting for a response, he walked away, leaving the trio standing there, their worry evident as they exchanged glances.

He made his way to the Gryffindor common room and entered his enchanted suitcase. Inside, the space was dimly lit and cluttered with magical items. Gray carefully placed the dark egg into a large bowl, then poured every ounce of arcane potion he had into it. The liquid shimmered with raw energy as the egg began to float, soaking in the concentrated concoction. Gray sat in silence, his eyes fixed on the egg, his thoughts clouded. After a while, he frowned, stood up, and began rifling through his collection of recipes. He paused as he pulled out an ancient parchment—one that required the Philosopher's Stone as its main ingredient. He stared at it for a moment before resolutely setting to work.

While Gray immersed himself in his work, the rest of Hogwarts was alive with celebration. The school was abuzz with joy over their victory in the Triwizard Tournament. Laughter and music filled the Great Hall as students celebrated the win that had brought glory to Hogwarts. However, the champion who had won them the cup was nowhere to be seen, his absence noted but overshadowed by the festivities. Most assumed he was resting or recovering from the tournament's trials, unaware of the intense solitude he had chosen.

During the end-of-year graduation ceremony, the Great Hall was decorated with banners and lights, and students eagerly awaited Dumbledore's speech. The headmaster stood at the podium, his expression warm yet tinged with subtle sadness. "This year has been one of incredible challenges and triumphs," he began, his voice carrying across the hall. "We have witnessed courage, determination, and unity. I would like to congratulate all of you for your hard work and dedication. And, of course, I must extend my heartfelt congratulations to Hogwarts for emerging victorious in the Triwizard Tournament."

Dumbledore paused, his gaze softening as he continued. "It is unfortunate, however, that our champion, Grey knight, is unable to join us tonight. He is not feeling well but has expressed his happiness in seeing Hogwarts claim the victory. Let us take a moment to appreciate his remarkable efforts, as it is thanks to him that we end this year on such a high note." The hall erupted into applause, though a faint note of unease lingered among some who had noticed Gray's absence. As the ceremony concluded, the mood remained celebratory, but for those closest to Gray, a lingering worry remained beneath the surface.