The Fall of Dumbledore: The White King

Lost Heritage

The aftermath of the Quidditch World Cup disaster had sent shockwaves through the wizarding world, but for Hades and his Slytherin friends, it was a harbinger of exciting times to come. Though the sudden appearance of the Dark Mark had stoked fears of Voldemort's return in most, they saw it as a sign that the old pure-blood traditions would soon be restored to their rightful place.

As the waning days of summer stretched on, Hades savored every moment of freedom from Hogwarts in the indulgent company of Draco, Pansy, and Blaise. Many an afternoon was whiled away lounging poolside at Malfoy Manor, sipping elf-made wine and mocking the cowardice of those who had fled at the Dark Mark's appearance.

"Did you see the looks on the Mudbloods' faces?" Pansy cackled. "Bunch of sniveling babies, the lot of them."

Blaise chuckled around his glass. "The wizarding world has gotten far too soft and accommodating to their kind. No wonder the old ways have been lost."

"Well that's all about to change soon enough," Draco said coldly, drawing an approving look from Hades. "The Dark Lord has great plans to separate pure-blood customs from Mudblood ignorance once and for all."

Though the exact details of Lord Voldemort's vision remained unknown to them, Hades and his friends were united in their zeal to uphold the ancient pure-blood traditions from Muggle interference and influences. While bloody supremacist fantasies held no interest for them, they deeply revered their heritage and magical inheritance.

"Our kind's birthright will be reclaimed," Hades declared, his emerald eyes burning with conviction. "No more dilution, no more concessions to lesser breeds. The old ways will be revived in all their glory."

As the start of the new term at Hogwarts neared, Lucius Malfoy insisted they make a trip to Diagon Alley to deal with some important business beforehand. Though the usual summer crowds still thronged the iconic street, a noticeable aura of unease and tension lingered in the air.

"Keep your wits about you," Lucius warned in a low voice, shooting a disdainful look at a group of young Muggle-borns staring wide-eyed at the wondrous sights. "I saw that great oaf Hagrid lurking about, no doubt on Dumbledore's orders to monitor us."

They hurried along at a clipped pace, Draco unable to resist loudly mocking the Muggle-borns' slack-jawed gawking until the frightened children shrank back clutching each other. Before long, they reached the immense marble edifice of Gringotts bank and made their way through the vaulted main hall towards the private offices.

"Ah, Master Malfoy and associates," the wizened old goblin banker Garfunk wheezed in greeting. "I have the final results of the lineage and blood purity tests prepared."

The others looked on with interest as Garfunk produced an ornate crystal phial. "Just you today, Master Hades," he said. "We require only a small sample of blood to analyze your ancestry."

Nodding, Hades extended his hand and allowed the goblin to prick his finger, watching as several ruby drops fell into the phial's depth. At once, the glass began emanating a swirling vaporous smoke that shimmered and contorted into arcane runes and symbols.

Garfunk's eyes went wide as saucers as he studied the information being magically revealed. "Extraordinary..." he breathed. "By all indices, you appear to be the sole living scion of the Noble and Most Ancient House of Peverell!"

A shocked murmur went around the room. The name Peverell was legendary amongst pure-bloods - they were the three fabled brothers said to have been gifted with the Deathly Hallows by Death himself eons past. Their ancestral bloodline was thought to be extinguished and was revered as the pinnacle of magical aristocracy.

"You can't be serious..." Hades whispered, emerald eyes locked on the swirling vapors revealing his unimaginable heritage. He could feel the weight of that legacy like a physical mantle across his shoulders.

Lucius clapped him on the back, beaming with pride. "The ancient bloodline flows through your veins, untainted by impurities for centuries upon centuries! How the Dark Lord will revel in adding such a pure genetic scion to his ranks."

As they made their way back to the Leaky Cauldron to catch the Hogwarts Express, Hades could sense the shift in his friends' perception of him. This shocking revelation about his lineage afforded the young Slytherin a new, loftier status - though to what extent remained to be seen.

For his part, Hades allowed himself a small smile of satisfaction as the gleaming scarlet steam engine came into view. He now grasped his place in the greater scheme, his pure-blood birthright demanding he play a pivotal role in ushering the new age Lord Voldemort was setting into motion.

"The old ways will be reborn," he murmured, emerald eyes gleaming with resolve as he boarded the train. "And I'll be at the vanguard."

With Draco, Pansy, and Blaise in tow - their usual sneering bravado now tinged with deference towards Hades - the cabin compartment doors slid shut, sealed once more within the ancient stone walls of Hogwarts. But Hades knew this year would be a mere formality, a brief detour before his true calling as a noble pure-blood scion could be realized.

The rest of the world remained obliviously mired in antiquated Muggle thinking and influence. But that was all about to change, starting with him. A renaissance of magical traditionalism and the old pure-blood ways was nigh, for good or ill.