Chapter 13 — Revelation
The air in the room turned heavy after I spoke. It wasn't just silence — it was the sort that makes your chest tighten and your heartbeat sound much too loud.
Brigid, the ginger cat in my arms, shifted uneasily, her tail flicking as if she sensed the tension. She gave a low, uncertain meow, and I absently rubbed behind her ears to calm her. She'd been uneasy since we entered Gringotts — the marble floors, the sharp scent of metal and stone, and now this atmosphere thick with magic and fear.
Mum was the first to break the silence.
"What do you mean a dark curse, Arthur?" she almost shrieked, her voice rising in alarm. "What are you talking about? What curse?"
Before I could answer, Rangok — the goblin manager — slammed a hand on the desk, the sound echoing like a hammer striking an anvil. "Explain. Now." His eyes glowed with a dangerous, metallic gleam.
Brigid hissed softly at the noise and pressed her head against my chest. I held her closer. "Easy, girl," I whispered.
I swallowed, choosing my words carefully. "It's something I've felt for years now," I began slowly. "I can… understand animals. Their emotions, thoughts — not words, exactly, but feelings. It's part of my magic, I think. And whenever I've been near Harry, especially when he's upset or unwell, there's something foul that seeps out of that scar of his. Dark. Rotten. It's not alive, not properly — but it's clinging to him like… like oil to water."
Brigid gave a small growl in agreement, her ears flat. The goblins noticed. One of them raised an eyebrow.
"She feels it too," I said quickly. "She's more sensitive than most. It's the same wrongness I've been sensing all along."
Rangok's jaw tightened. Mum went pale, pressing a hand to her mouth. "His scar?" she whispered, staring at Harry's forehead as if she'd never noticed it before.
Harry fidgeted, small hands rubbing his arm. "It hurts sometimes," he mumbled. "Like someone's poking a stick through it."
Dudley, sitting beside him, frowned. "It better not be dangerous," he said, glaring at me. "He's my brother."
"It is dangerous," I said softly. "That's why we're here."
Rangok straightened and barked an order in the goblin tongue. Sharp, guttural words echoed across the marble walls. Within moments, the heavy doors burst open and a team of goblins hurried in — two older ones wearing intricate bronze medallions, clearly healers, followed by three others in battle-worn armour with silver runes etched along their sleeves. Curse breakers.
Brigid's head perked up, her tail twitching. She was watching every movement, her golden eyes reflecting the torchlight like tiny mirrors.
"Take them to Ritual Chamber Three," Rangok ordered. "Now."
We followed quickly, the boys clutching Mum's hands, her face tight with fear. I carried Brigid, who remained stiff but silent. The chamber was large, circular, and faintly glowing with runic light carved into the stone floor. The air buzzed faintly with ancient magic, the sort that hummed at the edge of hearing.
The goblin healers exchanged curt nods before one gestured to Harry. "Stand still, boy."
Harry blinked nervously. "I—I'll try."
They began chanting softly, their wands and knives moving in slow circles. One pressed a glowing blue crystal to Harry's scar; another traced runes on a parchment that smoked faintly.
Brigid hissed low when the crystal touched Harry's forehead. Her fur bristled, and I had to hold her tightly to stop her from leaping forward. "I know," I whispered to her. "You can feel it too."
It went on for several minutes before one of them froze. His face drained of colour. "No…" he murmured.
Another looked up sharply. "Is it confirmed?"
The first goblin turned to Rangok, his voice shaking despite his rough tone. "There is a fragment of soul — a Horcrux — lodged within the scar."
The word hit the air like thunder. Mum gasped. I felt my stomach twist. Even without saying the name aloud before, I'd feared it.
Rangok's eyes widened, then darkened to a dangerous red. "A soul fragment? A human child used as a vessel?" His voice rose with fury. "This is an abomination."
Brigid's fur puffed up, and she growled again — not at Rangok, but at the very idea of it. The sound was low and throaty, like distant thunder.
The healers continued their scanning, muttering to each other in rapid Gobbledegook. One of them turned to us and spoke in English, his tone grim. "It affects the boy's magical growth — his physical health, even his emotions. Those who live close to him would feel its corruption too. That is… unless there's protective magic shielding them."
I looked at Mum. "Lily's sacrifice," I said quietly.
The goblin nodded. "Yes. Her protection lingers — strong, but fading with time. It has dulled the Horcrux's influence, sparing the family from its worst effects."
Mum burst into tears, clutching Harry close. "Oh, Lily…" she whispered, voice trembling. "You kept us safe even after—" She couldn't finish.
Dudley wrapped an arm around her waist, trying to help, his eyes wide with worry. "Mum, it'll be alright," he said softly, though he didn't sound sure.
The goblins stood silent for a moment, their expressions surprisingly sympathetic. For a people known for their sharpness and gold-counting hearts, they seemed genuinely moved. Even Brigid, usually suspicious of strangers, sat quietly on my lap, her tail slowly curling around my arm as if to comfort us all.
Rangok finally spoke again, his tone gentler but firm. "We will not allow this to remain. Goblin children are sacred to our kind — any child, in truth, should never bear such filth within them. The ritual for removal will begin soon."
"What do you need from us?" I asked.
He looked at me appraisingly. "Patience. And courage."
We were escorted to a waiting room, where a tray of biscuits and pumpkin juice awaited. Brigid hopped onto the table and sniffed the biscuits suspiciously before curling up beside them, her eyes half-closed but alert. Dudley poked the food suspiciously before deciding it tasted fine. Harry just sat close to Mum, quiet and pale.
An hour passed like that — waiting, whispering, the weight of what we'd learned pressing down on all of us. Brigid occasionally let out a soft purr, as if reminding me to breathe.
At last, a goblin healer returned. "The ritual is prepared," he announced.
Back in the ritual chamber, golden light pulsed from the carved runes. Harry stood hesitantly in the centre. He looked terrified. Brigid squirmed in my arms, wanting to go closer to him, but I shook my head gently. "Not yet, girl," I whispered. "Let them do their work."
"Harry," I said, stepping forward, kneeling so my eyes met his. "You're the bravest person I know, you hear? Just stand there. They'll take care of the rest. I'll be right here."
He nodded slowly, still trembling, but he stayed where he was.
Brigid gave a small, approving chirp and sat straight in my arms, watching Harry intently — as if lending him strength through her gaze.
Rangok raised his hand. The air thrummed. The circle began to glow brighter. The runes flared, gold and crimson, washing the walls in light.
Mum held Dudley close, her eyes wide with fear and hope. The goblin healers began their chant, deep and resonant, ancient syllables filling the air.
Brigid's fur rippled under my hands. I could feel her heart thumping against mine, fast but steady. The magic in the room was thick enough to taste — metallic and sharp like a thunderstorm about to break.
I took a deep breath. Whatever happened next — this was the moment everything changed.
End of Chapter 13 — Revelation