Harry Potter: Returning from Hogwarts Legacy

"You found it?"

Harry raised an eyebrow and looked at the goblin waving a sheet of paper.

He didn’t rush to stand up but instead gave the opportunity to Bodrig.

Sure enough, upon hearing the news, the most anxious person wasn’t anyone else—it was Bodrig.

Bodrig dashed forward, grabbed the paper, and carefully held it with both hands before presenting it to Harry.

Harry was quite pleased with the way the Brotherhood of Goblins' leader was behaving.

He took the paper and examined it closely. His face darkened instantly.

The contents roughly stated that in August of 1899, Gellert Grindelwald had come to Gringotts in Britain, using a token belonging to Velatia Grindelwald, and emptied the vault. This included all the Galleons, various antique treasures, and even all the alchemy materials—everything was taken.

Wait a minute, Gellert, are you a Niffler?

Harry’s eyebrows twitched. He genuinely wanted to know what Veratia’s reaction would be when she found out about this.

"If I remember correctly, wasn't the token supposed to be this wand?"

As he spoke, Harry reached into his robe to take out the wand.

"No!"

All the goblins present shouted in unison, "Mr. Potter, no! Do not take out that wand!"

Harry paused and held back.

"The records indicate that Miss Grindelwald set up two tokens for the vault," the Gringotts official read from a document bearing Veratia’s magical signature. "One was permanent—the wand currently in Mr. Potter's possession. The other was a one-time use token—the Grindelwald family crest. However, Miss Grindelwald had set a withdrawal limit of one hundred thousand Galleons. Due to the passage of time, we do not know why he was ultimately allowed to empty the vault entirely."

With that, the official handed the document to Harry.

"Mr. Potter, please verify whether the magical signature belongs to Miss Velatia Grindelwald."

Harry gently touched the signature and found that it was indeed left by Veratia herself.

Well, that explained everything.

Ha!

So, after all this time, it was you, this little Niffler, who took everything your sister left behind!

Harry figured he really needed to have a conversation with Veratia about this matter.

And when he saw Gellert next, he was definitely going to grab him by the leg and shake him until every last Galleon spilled from his pockets!

"Understood." Harry handed the document back to the Gringotts official and added, "Make me a copy of this withdrawal record."

Hearing Harry’s words, the goblins collectively exhaled in relief.

"Of course, esteemed Mr. Potter."

Some of the younger goblins couldn’t help but reconsider the stories they had heard about him. Goblin oral tradition had long painted Potter as a fearsome figure, but wasn’t he rather amiable? He certainly wasn’t the menace they had imagined!

The goblins worked efficiently, and before long, Harry had a duplicate of the withdrawal record.

Satisfied, he tucked it away securely, intending to show it to Veratia once he returned to the Map Chamber so she could see exactly what her dear little brother had done.

"However," Harry continued, "this also represents a failure on your part. I believe Gringotts should compensate both me and my Veratia for this oversight."

"That is our responsibility, Mr. Potter!" the Gringotts official declared, patting his chest.

"I hope your compensation is satisfactory. You have one night to draft a proposal." Harry rose to his feet. "It’s getting late. I’ll be taking my leave now."

"Safe travels, Mr. Potter." The Gringotts official bowed slightly.

After leaving Gringotts, Harry activated the Portkey and reappeared at the entrance of the Leaky Cauldron.

At the same time, the effects of the Aging Potion wore off completely. With a snap of his fingers, his clothes automatically adjusted to fit his proper size.

Back at the Leaky Cauldron, old Tom was still curious. He scratched his head in confusion, unsure when Harry Potter had even left the establishment.

Not dwelling on it, he greeted Harry before returning to polishing his glasses.

---

Harry was having a fine day, but Draco Malfoy was not.

At Malfoy Manor, Draco remained visibly troubled.

"Draco?" His mother, Narcissa, asked gently, "What’s wrong? If something is bothering you, you must tell your father and me."

"I, uh…"

Draco opened his mouth, wanting to spill everything at once.

But as soon as the words reached his lips, he hesitated.

After all, he had taken a dark artifact from home—one his father had strictly forbidden him from touching—brought it to school, and caused a massive uproar...

Not to mention, there was now a clearly cursed mark on his arm...

And the dreadful design of the mark made it impossible not to associate it with a curse.

Thinking of all this, Draco hesitated again.

If he confessed, he’d be met with his father’s particular brand of "affectionate discipline." That would be the end of him.

"Speak, Draco." Lucius sat in his chair, leisurely sipping his tea.

"It’s nothing, really." Draco swallowed his words. "We just lost the House Cup, so I’m feeling a little down."

The House Cup?

Lucius and Narcissa exchanged a glance and simultaneously let out a breath of relief.

"It’s just the House Cup, Draco." Lucius looked up. "Don’t act like a child who didn’t get a new broomstick."

Narcissa reached out and ruffled her son’s hair, though she couldn’t shake the feeling that Draco was hiding something.

But she didn’t want to force him. If she pushed too hard, it would only hurt him in the end.

She decided to wait until Draco was ready to talk.

---

After dinner, Draco, still preoccupied, headed to the bathroom.

He instructed the house-elf to prepare his bath and, upon testing the water, grumbled, "Lali! The water is too hot!"

"I’m sorry, young master."

A soft, timid voice responded as a small figure appeared, adjusting the water temperature.

"That’s better. Now get out! You’re such a nuisance." Draco waved his hand impatiently.

"Bad Lali! Bad Lali!" The elf whimpered and began banging her head against the tub in punishment.

House-elves were always like this—severely punishing themselves over the smallest mistakes.

"Enough, Lali." Draco sighed, grabbing her by the arm to stop her. "You’re used to serving Mother, so you don’t know my preferences. It’s fine. Now leave me alone."

"Young master…" Lali whimpered. "Young master is so kind…"

Draco waved her away impatiently and sank into the bath.

Lali, eyes brimming with tears, glanced at Draco’s left arm—and suddenly, her eyes widened in horror.

She let out a sharp, piercing scream.

"Tch." Draco groaned in annoyance. He had no patience for this—his mind was consumed by the cursed mark on his arm.

Then, realization struck him.

Was Lali screaming because of his arm?

He hurriedly turned to Lali and said urgently, “Lali! I order you! You are absolutely forbidden to speak a word about what you saw on my arm! Do you hear me?”

Lali let out a whimper and disappeared into the bathroom.

Draco let out a breath of relief. He knew the loyalty of house-elves—Lali would never betray her master.

But there was one problem he had overlooked…

Lali was brought over from the Black family by his mother. Her true master was Narcissa…

Sure enough, as soon as Lali left Draco’s bathroom, she went straight to the living room.

Narcissa and Lucius were having tea and discussing why Draco was once again in an emo mood today.

Seeing Lali suddenly appear, Lucius frowned.

But considering that Lali belonged to Narcissa, he refrained from saying anything—after all, one must give his wife due respect, or else… hmm… well…

“Lali?” Narcissa’s expression darkened slightly, knowing full well that her husband disliked interruptions during tea. “What is it?”

“Bad Lali! Bad Lali!” Lali picked up a book from the table and started banging it against her own head. “Lali’s eyes should not exist! Lali saw Young Master’s secret! Bad Lali! Bad Lali!”

Young Master’s secret?

Lucius, who had been mildly annoyed, immediately raised his voice by eight decibels.

“You mean Draco? What happened to him?”

The Malfoys had only one heir. Though Lucius always presented himself as a strict father, Draco was still his only son—the one he cherished above all else.

One could say he was afraid Draco might melt in his mouth or slip through his fingers.

Now Draco had a “secret,” and not only that, it was something shameful enough to be discovered by others? How could Lucius not take this seriously?

“Bad Lali! Bad Lali!” Lali continued to pound her own head.

“Lali!” Narcissa said sternly, “I order you to stop hurting yourself!”

Lali’s movements halted immediately, her large, tearful eyes looking up at Narcissa with a pitiful expression.

“Madam cares for Lali… Madam won’t allow Lali to punish herself… But Lali knows she is bad! She should not have seen Young Master’s secret!”

“What happened to Draco? Speak now,” Narcissa urged, unable to remain calm when it came to her son.

“Young Master forbade Lali from speaking! If Lali tells, Young Master will punish Lali!” Lali whimpered.

Narcissa let out a cold humph. “Lali! In the Malfoy family, you have only one master—me! I order you to tell me Draco’s secret now!”

Lali sobbed, raising her head hesitantly before quickly lowering it again.

She could not disobey her master’s orders, even though she adored Draco and played with him often.

“Lali… Lali was assisting Young Master in his bath, preparing the water,” Lali began hesitantly. “But Lali made the water too hot. Young Master scolded Lali and told Lali to fetch new water—Lali wanted to punish herself, but kind Young Master stopped Lali and sent Lali out.”

“But Lali saw a mark on Young Master’s left arm… A very, very evil mark…” At this, Lali began to hit her head again.

“What kind of mark?” Narcissa grabbed her small arm. “Lali! I order you to stop punishing yourself!”

Lali pitifully lowered her hands and began describing, “It was a black skull… with a large serpent slithering out of its mouth like a tongue. It scared Lali so much… Lali thinks she has seen it somewhere before…”

The moment Lali described it, both Narcissa and Lucius felt their world spinning. Narcissa’s legs went weak, and she collapsed onto the sofa.

“The Dark Mark?!” Lucius gasped in shock.

If anyone knew what that mark meant, it was Lucius.

It was the very symbol the Dark Lord bestowed upon his Death Eaters…

Through this mark, Voldemort could summon, control, and even torture his followers.

Most crucially, its very existence was undeniable proof of one’s identity as a Death Eater. And now that Voldemort had fallen from power, who in their right mind would still bear the Dark Mark?

As the saying goes, “In times of glory, the false believers gather; in times of ruin, the true followers remain.” With Voldemort’s downfall, even many of the once-devoted pure-blood families refused to acknowledge their past as Death Eaters.

Only a handful remained loyal—such as Narcissa’s sister, Bellatrix.

“Lucius…” Narcissa gripped her leg, trying to stop herself from shaking. “Tell me… where did Draco get the Dark Mark?!”

“Don’t panic, dear.” Lucius forced himself to remain calm, suppressing the sharp tremor in his voice. “We haven’t seen it with our own eyes yet… We must confirm it first.”

“Alright!” Narcissa nodded firmly.

The two of them ascended the staircase and arrived at the bathroom door.

“Draco?” Narcissa knocked. “Are you still in the bath?”

“I’m still bathing, Mother!” Draco’s voice came from inside.

“Hmm… Come out for a moment. I have something to discuss with you,” Narcissa said. “It’s about the Greengrass child—”

Inside the bathroom, Draco had been worried he’d been found out. But when he heard his mother mention the Greengrass family, he immediately shot up from the bathtub.

“Alright, Mother! I’ll be right out.”

He hastily dressed himself, flung open the door—

And immediately met his father’s piercing, stern gaze.

“Draco,” Lucius said impassively. “Come with us.”

Draco’s heart dropped.

He instantly knew what had happened.

Lali had betrayed him!

Gritting his teeth, Draco seethed with resentment.

Traitor! Your two-faced nature doesn’t surprise me in the least!

Left with no choice, he followed his parents downstairs, his heart pounding with unease.

Finally, they arrived at his bedroom.

“Show me your arm,” Lucius ordered.

Draco hesitated. He didn’t want to expose the Dark Mark on his arm.

“Show me your arm!” Lucius’s voice turned stern.

Seeing his father’s hardened expression, Draco swallowed nervously.

There was no escaping this. He dared not openly defy his father—otherwise, the consequences would be dire.

So, he slowly stretched out his arm and rolled up his sleeve.

As the fabric slid upward, the grotesque skull and serpent were gradually revealed to the Malfoys.

Upon seeing the all-too-familiar Dark Mark, Lucius’s pupils contracted violently!

---

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