Ch. 7: Magical Menagerie.

Perched atop a hill behind the quaint Little Hangleton Village, an ancient house stood in solitude. The locals referred to it as the "Riddle Mansion", a name inherited from the Riddle family who had resided there for generations. Now, however, the mansion lay abandoned.

Numerous windows of the mansion were tightly boarded up, the roof was missing several tiles, and the exterior walls were shrouded in creeping vines. Once a splendid manor, the Riddle Mansion had been the crown jewel of the village. Now, it stood forlorn and forgotten.

"Ahh…..!" Suddenly, an eerie scream echoed through the desolate mansion, as chilling as a winter gust and as sharp as a child's cry.

"Wormtail...Wormtail..." a voice, coarse and infantile, echoed through the empty halls.

A bedroom door creaked open, and a flustered middle-aged man scurried in. He was an odd-looking fellow, short and rotund, with a receding hairline, a face reminiscent of a mouse, and a pointed nose.

"Oh! What troubles you, my lord?" The man stammered, addressing a wheelchair with its back turned towards him. His voice was laced with trepidation and fear.

"Quick... fetch me the potion..." the dark figure in the wheelchair croaked weakly.

"My lord, I fear your daily dosage has..." Wormtail's sentence trailed off, unfinished.

"Give it to me!" the dark figure barked, cutting him off.

Startled, Wormtail hastily retrieved the requested potion.

"Yes, my lord! Right away!" He approached the wheelchair cautiously, gingerly administering the potion to the dark figure.

In the dim light, Wormtail could make out his master's form. It was a grotesque sight, a slimy, eyeless humanoid creature, more monster than baby.

Its skin was a dark, decaying gray, reminiscent of charred flesh. Its limbs were frail and its face was flat, devoid of a nose.

This was Voldemort's current form, a consequence of his failed attempt to murder baby Harry Potter with the Killing Curse over a decade ago. The spell had rebounded due to his mother's protective magic, leaving him in this horrific state.

Despite seeing his master's face daily, Wormtail was always filled with dread at the sight of Voldemort in this condition.

After consuming the potion, Voldemort's features seemed to soften slightly.

"My lord, what... happened?" Wormtail asked, his voice trembling.

"One of my soul fragments has been destroyed!" Voldemort confessed weakly.

Wormtail was unaware of the concept of Horcruxes. In fact, aside from close confidant death eaters like Bellatrix, the other Death Eaters were oblivious to their existence.

This was a closely guarded secret, as it pertained to Voldemort's own survival. If the average Death Eater knew, Snape, who was a double agent among them, would have informed Dumbledore, who would have then sought to destroy the Horcruxes from the very beginning.

Hence, Voldemort told Wormtail that a soul shard had been destroyed, not a Horcrux.

"How could this happen?" Wormtail asked, his voice filled with terror. Although he didn't fully comprehend the situation, he understood the gravity of it.

Voldemort ignored him, muttering to himself, "Who could have done this?! Only a handful know of this. Could it be Dumbledore? Or Professor Horace? No, he lacks the courage. Could there be a traitor among us?!"

Voldemort's face contorted in rage, then slowly relaxed.

"No, no one dares betray me!" Voldemort said in a deep voice.

"Leave, Wormtail!" Voldemort commanded, "Leave me alone with Nagini."

"Yes, my lord!" Wormtail complied, retreating from the room.

.....

Within the Gryffindor dormitory at Hogwarts, a boy named Harry Potter jolted awake from a nightmare. He lay on his bed, gasping for breath, as if he had just finished a strenuous run.

He clutched his forehead, beneath his palm a lightning-shaped scar throbbed with pain, as if seared by a hot iron.

Harry sat up, groped for his glasses on the bedside table, and put them on. He switched on the desk lamp, its soft, warm glow providing a small measure of comfort. However, the pain in his scar persisted.

He got out of bed, slipped on his slippers, and crossed the room to open the wardrobe. Inside, a mirror reflected his face.

Harry scrutinized the scar on his forehead in the mirror. It appeared normal, but the intense pain remained. He tried to recall the dream, which, despite being a dream, felt incredibly real.

The dream had featured two individuals. One was Wormtail, whom Harry recognized, and the other... the other wasn't human at all. It was a deformed humanoid child, but Harry recognized the voice. It was Voldemort's!

The mere thought of Voldemort sent a wave of pain coursing through Harry, as if he had swallowed a thousand needles.

He closed his eyes, attempting to recall the details of the dream. Voldemort had seemed to be in immense pain, as if he had been grievously injured.

'But... who could possibly harm Voldemort?!' Harry wondered, his hand instinctively moving to cover his scar.

.....

In the Magical Menagerie, a magical creature shop located in the northern part of Diagon Alley, a saleswoman with thick glasses sat behind the counter, engrossed in the "Daily Prophet".

The headline read that Gringotts, the only wizarding bank in the world, had been attacked earlier that morning. A significant amount of money had been stolen from one of the vaults, and the dragon guarding Gringotts had been abducted. The Ministry of Magic had dispatched Aurors to apprehend the culprits.

She set down the "Daily Prophet", slightly bored, and picked up a copy of "Witch Weekly".

Business was slow, as it wasn't the school season. The shop was busiest when Hogwarts freshmen were preparing for their first year, as they often came to purchase pets, a requirement for enrollment.

Typically, students chose an owl, a toad, or a cat, except for the occasional oddball like Ron, who had gotten a rat.

Just then, the shop door opened, and a disheveled young man walked in.

Seeing a potential customer, the shop owner perked up. She quickly composed herself and greeted him with a warm smile.

"Welcome to Magical Menagerie, sir. How may I assist you?" The saleswoman addressed the young man respectfully, "We have a wide variety of magical creatures. Whatever you need, just let me know!"

Jon glanced around the shop before turning to the owner, "I want your most valuable pet here!"

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