Chapter 86
After leaving the train station, he finally arrived at his home—a place he hadn't set foot in for the entire year. But this time… something was different.
In the two years he had spent at Hogwarts, Albert had always returned home without ever finding anything unusual about the front door. Yet, with just one glance now—if you had even the slightest caution, and a sense for magic—you would notice that something about the door had changed.
Without thinking, Albert's instincts kicked in. He rushed toward the door, only to find deep scratches along its surface—scratches no ordinary person could ever see unless they possessed magical power like his.
Without hesitation, Albert cast Sectopra—wandlessly. This was a charm that dispelled any magic surrounding a solid, unmoving object, like a door.
Once the magic was lifted from a small portion of the door, Albert's eyes widened. Carved into it was a short line—written in a coded language.
The moment his gaze fell upon those markings, a memory struck him.
"Wait… isn't this the same language Father always spoke to me in… back in Azkaban?"
Albert's heartbeat quickened at the thought that his father might have escaped from Azkaban.
But the pounding in his chest was not from fear—it was from pure joy. For the first time in years, he might finally see his father again. He hadn't laid eyes on him in over three years. (And one mustn't forget—Albert had spent nearly eight months on the run from Dementors, who would have captured him the moment they found him.)
Turning his focus back to the door, Albert read the short inscription aloud:
"When you see this message, meet me at the Leaky Cauldron at 8:00 p.m. on the day you read it."
Albert nearly shouted with happiness. At last! I'll see a member of my family again—the one person who's always loved me and cared for me. I can't wait to see him.
Although Albert had lived a previous life before being reborn into this world, he had grown to know his father—Sirius—well during those talks in Azkaban.
He took pride in his father. Despite being unjustly imprisoned for eleven years, Sirius had never lost hope, always believing that one day the truth would come to light. And Albert knew—better than anyone—that eventually, that day would come.
Moments later, the door suddenly opened, revealing the house-elf, Kreacher. But this time, Kreacher looked… different from the past two years.
If you looked closely at his face, you'd see a warm smile—and the dark rings that once hung under his eyes from exhaustion were gone.
More than that—his clothing. Kreacher was dressed beautifully, like a refined servant, rather than in his usual ragged garments.
"Welcome back, young master," Kreacher greeted politely.
"Uh—oh! Hello, Kreacher. What… happened to you?" Albert asked.
"Happened, sir?"
"Well," Albert hesitated, "how do I explain this… you always looked so sad before, and you used to insist you felt comfortable in your old rags. But now everything about you has changed. What happened to make you so… different?"
"Well, young master," Kreacher replied, "the truth is… I suddenly decided I wanted to surprise you—by changing myself for the better. Do you… like my surprise?"
"Of course!" Albert grinned. "I've always wanted to talk to you about this, but I thought it might be too sensitive a subject. Hah… but since you've decided to change for the better, my friend, I truly feel happy when I see your face lit up with smiles instead of the sadness and gloom you used to wear."
Kreacher froze at the word friend. It had been so long—so very long—since he had last heard anyone call him that. As he thought about it, a faint memory began to surface.
A figure… from decades ago. Kreacher could barely recall the person's face—just fragments of features—but what stood out was the same light-blue hair and eyes Albert had.
The stranger in Kreacher's thoughts appeared in pieces, blurred and incomplete. But there was one thing Kreacher remembered with certainty—the words this person had spoken to him:
"Kreacher… I'm nothing but a toy in the hands of these people! I don't want you to suffer the same fate I did! But remember, my friend—if someone comes… someone who can avenge me and my family… tell hi— — — — that elev— — — — is the key to— — —"
The harder Kreacher tried to recall the words, the more his mind ached.
Albert noticed the house-elf had stopped moving entirely, lost in thought.
Suddenly, Kreacher clutched his head and let out a sharp cry of pain.
"Kreacher! Are you alright?!" Albert exclaimed.
To be continued…