26th Feb 2025
Once upon a time, in a world of magic and shadows, a whisper spread like wildfire. 'Did you hear? Voldemort has a son!' Gasps echoed through the halls of Hogwarts as students exchanged terrified glances. Young witches and wizards huddled together, whispering stories about the fabled Dark Lord and his new heir, a sixteen-year-old named Lucian. 'I can't believe it!' exclaimed Hermione. 'What does this mean for us?' Harry, with determination in his eyes, replied, 'We must be ready for anything.'
As the days passed, rumors of Lucian's arrival swirled through the castle, a mist of unease settling over the students. Behind the scenes, the professors convened in hushed meetings, their faces etched with concern. Dumbledore’s voice could be heard through the heavy wooden door of the staff room, steady and calm, "We must approach this with caution and openness." As if sensing the weight of the news, Hogwarts itself seemed to tremble ever so slightly, its ancient walls whispering secrets only the bravest dared to hear.
When Lucian finally entered the Great Hall, his presence was both a chilling shadow and a curious enigma. Heads turned as he strode confidently across the room, his robes a deep, inky black that seemed to absorb the light around him. Yet, to Harry's surprise, there was a flicker of something in Lucian's eyes—was it doubt, or perhaps even fear? Hermione nudged Ron, "He doesn't look like a villain," she whispered, her voice a mix of intrigue and skepticism.
In the following weeks, Lucian kept mostly to himself, wandering the grounds of Hogwarts as if searching for something lost. Some students watched him with distrust, while others dared to approach, curious about the boy who carried such a heavy legacy. Harry, driven by both a sense of duty and an unyielding curiosity, decided to approach him. "Lucian," he called out one afternoon near the lake, "I think we should talk."
Lucian paused, the wind playing with his cloak as he turned to face Harry. There was a silence before he spoke, his voice unexpectedly soft, "I didn’t choose this, you know." In that moment, Harry saw not a heir of darkness, but a boy caught in the shadow of his father's deeds. "Maybe," Harry said, his voice filled with hope, "you could choose a different path." As the sun dipped behind the horizon, the two boys stood there, united by the possibility of change and the promise of new beginnings.
