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The lie pressed against Harry's chest like a second heartbeat.
He hadn't told Ron or Hermione what he saw in the mirror weeks ago — the night he first touched Seraphina's feather. Not the whole truth.
Because when the mirror had shimmered… Seraphina had turned to face him.
And she had his eyes.
📜 The Riddle's Pull
The green runes etched in the wall behind the serpent symbol still pulsed faintly.
"Speak not the heir's name,Lest the Tower hear.But whisper the mirror's lie,And the third shall appear."
Harry knew what the lie was now.
He whispered it, barely breathing:
"She's not related to me."
The runes flared bright green, then vanished completely.
The wall groaned — and slowly, silently — slid inward.
Behind it was a narrow, spiral staircase made of the oldest stone Harry had ever seen in the castle. The edges were chipped. The walls were wet. And the torches lining the walls lit themselves as he descended.
At the bottom: a round, domed chamber.
The Stone Chamber.
🗝 The Oldest Room in Hogwarts
The room pulsed with ancient magic — older even than the Founders. The floor was carved with concentric rings, each filled with symbols Harry didn't recognize.
At the center of the room was a pedestal, and floating above it…
A key.
Not made of wood. Not gold. Not even metal.
It was carved from obsidian — a raven feather etched into its base. Cold, sharp, silent.
Harry reached out.
The moment he touched it, the door slammed shut behind him.
The walls shimmered — and something moved in the shadows.
A deep, low voice echoed through the chamber:
"Who speaks the lie to claim the truth?"
Harry turned slowly.
Emerging from the shadows was a creature he'd never seen before — not in books, not in Hagrid's lessons.
It had the shape of a man. But its skin was etched with writing — sentences, names, fragments of stories, carved into its very flesh.
Its eyes were hollow.
Its mouth was sealed shut with stone stitches.
And on its chest glowed the mark of Ravenclaw.
🪨 The Stonewrought
Harry held the key tightly.
The creature circled him.
"I am the Stonewrought," it said, voice echoing not from its mouth, but from the walls themselves."I guard what was buried. I remember what must not be spoken."
Harry swallowed. "I need to reach the Tower."
"You carry the Echo. But it is not enough. The lie you told opened the way — now you must face it."
The chamber darkened.
Suddenly, Harry was no longer alone in the room.
A second Harry stood before him.
But this version looked older. Colder. Eyes full of fire.
"You don't belong to yourself," the double said.
"You're just her memory. Not a boy. Not a savior. A copy. A mistake."
🪞 Trial of the Echo
The real Harry shook his head. "I'm not her. I'm me."
The echo stepped forward. "Then prove it. Tell the truth. Out loud."
Harry hesitated.
The Stonewrought watched.
He felt the weight of the key in his hand — and the feather in his pocket — and Seraphina's face in his mind.
He took a breath.
"I think… I'm her heir. Maybe even her son."
The room went silent.
Then, the runes on the Stonewrought's skin began to glow.
"Third Echo acknowledged."
The false Harry vanished like dust in wind.
And the stone stitches across the creature's mouth unwound.
🔐 Secrets Released
The Stonewrought knelt before Harry.
"Take the key. But know this: the Tower does not give without taking. You will lose part of yourself the deeper you go."
Harry nodded. "I already have."
The pedestal cracked open — revealing a silver circlet beneath the key.
Not a crown.
A diadem.
Rowena's.
But smaller. Simpler.
Engraved along the edge:
"To seek truth is to risk everything."
Harry placed the diadem in his satchel beside the key.
The wall behind him opened once more.
But as he stepped toward the stairs, the Stonewrought said:
"The fourth Echo lies where the first lie was born. In the chamber beneath your name."
🧩 One More Secret
Back in the common room, Hermione and Ron pounced on him the moment he returned.
"Where were you?" Hermione demanded.
"You look awful," Ron added helpfully.
Harry sat by the fire and slowly pulled out the obsidian key.
Their jaws dropped.
"I think…" Harry said slowly, "the Tower wasn't built to control magic. Or to hide secrets."
Hermione narrowed her eyes. "Then what was it built for?"
Harry looked down at the key, then up at his friends.
"I think it was built to rewrite the past."
Support the magic—50 epic chapters, 1000+ words each, and an unforgettable retelling of Harry Potter. Only on my Patreon.patreon.com/Kun_kunsi12