Harry Potter and the Lost Heir (A fan fiction)

Chapter 2: The Cryptic Message

The scene of the crime was gruesome. Around him, the walls were splattered with blood, forming a sinister symbol: a hydra with a skull in the center.

A team of investigators arrived. They quickly set up a protective barrier and began to examine the evidence. Harry realized there was something different about this case. The symbol had never been left at the previous murders.

But what was the purpose of this symbol? What did it actually mean?

Harry had no answers, only questions. He felt a cold shiver run down his spine as he looked at the skull. There was something familiar about it, something that nagged at his memory. And then he saw it. On the forehead of the skull, there was that faint engraving.

Harry felt a surge of anger and fear. He knew what this meant. The killer was taunting him, challenging him, mocking him. The killer knew him, and wanted him to know it. But how? How did the killer know Harry? And how did Harry know the killer?

Harry turned to his friends, who had accompanied him to the scene. Ron looked pale and shaken. Hermione, the brightest witch of her age, looked thoughtful and concerned. It seemed that now, a new threat had emerged. A threat that was somehow connected to their past.

"What do you make of this, Harry?" Ron asked, pointing at the skull. "What did the killer mean by 'Remember me'?"

Harry shook his head. "I don't know, Ron. I don't know. But it's clear that the killer knows me, and wants me to remember something. Something that I've forgotten, or repressed, or ignored."

"Maybe it's someone from our school days," Hermione suggested. "Someone who had a grudge against you, or us, or the Order of the Phoenix. Someone who was loyal to Voldemort, or who felt betrayed by him. Someone who survived the war, and went into hiding, and now wants revenge."

Harry nodded. "That's possible, Hermione. But who? Who could it be? We know most of the Death Eaters who survived, and where they are. They're either in Azkaban, or under surveillance, or under the protection of the Ministry. And none of them have the power or the skill to pull off something like this. This killer is using a dark curse that we've never seen before. A curse that leaves no trace, except for this symbol. A curse that kills instantly, and painlessly. A curse that only the killer knows how to cast."

"But at the same time, it's different from before.", his voice turned into whisper.

"Maybe it's not a Death Eater, then," Ron said. "Maybe it's someone else. Someone who was close to Voldemort, or who learned from him. Someone who inherited his secrets, or his legacy. Someone who wants to finish what he started."

Harry frowned. "But who, Ron? Who could that be? Voldemort didn't have any friends, or allies, or followers. He only had servants, and slaves, and enemies. He didn't trust anyone, or care for anyone, or love anyone. He was alone, and he died alone."

"Are you sure about that, Harry?" Hermione asked. "Are you sure that Voldemort didn't have anyone who cared for him, or who he cared for? Are you sure that he didn't have any family, or any descendants, or any heirs?"

Harry felt a chill in his heart. He remembered the prophecy that had haunted him for most of his life. The prophecy that had linked him to Voldemort, and had foretold their final confrontation. The prophecy that had said:

"The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches... born to those who have thrice defied him, born as the seventh month dies... and the Dark Lord will mark him as his equal, but he will have power the Dark Lord knows not... and either must die at the hand of the other for neither can live while the other survives... the one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord will be born as the seventh month dies..."