The Last Protection: Harriett Potter's Legacy

Chapter 13: Harriett's Awakening

The air in the Black château was thick with the heavy silence of the early morning hours. Inside the large manor, everything seemed to be at rest, but in the corners of the mansion, something shifted—almost imperceptibly. Harriett was growing, her mind and powers expanding far faster than anyone had expected. The once quiet, curious child was now on the cusp of something much larger, something unknown. The weight of her heritage pressed down on her like an invisible force, yet it was not a burden she could fully comprehend.

The shadows that danced on the walls of her room as she lay awake reflected her inner turmoil. The wings—black feathers that had started as a simple oddity—had become a more frequent and visible part of her life. Every time she dreamed, they would appear, ethereal and dark, fluttering behind her like a presence she could not outrun. Her magic, too, had been changing. Her family was supportive, but they did not truly understand what she was going through. Even Sirius, her guiding light through this storm of uncertainty, seemed to falter when it came to understanding what she was becoming.

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Harriett had always gravitated toward the books in the family library, the towering shelves filled with knowledge far beyond her years. Today, like so many others before it, she found herself in the corner of the room, her fingers skimming the edges of an ancient tome. She had become accustomed to the scent of aged parchment, the way the words on the pages seemed to pulse with a life of their own. This particular book, however, was different. It was a dusty, leather-bound text, its pages so thin that they were almost translucent. It seemed to call out to her, though she had no idea what the book contained. But there was something—something that pulled her in.

The moment her fingers touched the cover, a spark of magic flared within her. She had felt it before, but this was different. This felt more like a whisper, like the book itself was alive, waiting for her. She opened it carefully, her heartbeat quickening with each turn of the page. The ancient symbols that lined the pages made no sense to her at first, but the words seemed to dance and shift, slowly making themselves known in a language she didn’t remember learning. Yet, she could read it.

Her brow furrowed as the text seemed to grow clearer. She could see words forming in her mind, almost as if the book was speaking directly to her.

"The blood of the Blacks flows through you. You are the culmination of an ancient legacy—angel and demon, both light and dark. The power you seek lies within you. But to wield it, you must face the trials of your bloodline."

The weight of the words sank deep into her chest. Harriett's mind raced as she read further, her pulse quickening with the realization that this book held the key to understanding everything—the magic that had always been a part of her, the power that she had been born with, and the darkness that loomed just beneath the surface of her being.

She read on, feeling the air grow thick around her. It was as though she was no longer alone. The pages began to glow faintly, casting a soft light across the room. But she could not stop reading. The words called to her in a way that no other text ever had. She had to know what was coming next.

"There is a ritual of the Blacks," the book continued. "It is a rite of passage for those born into the bloodline of both darkness and light. To truly understand your magic, to control it, you must partake in the awakening. The price is not just of your power but of your very soul. But if you succeed, you will be a force unlike any the world has ever seen."

The ritual. Harriett’s heart skipped a beat. She knew, instinctively, that the ritual was something that had been forgotten by most of her family, a secret passed down through the generations in hushed whispers. The bloodline of the Blacks, though prestigious and powerful, had also been burdened by its darker sides. Ancient magics that had been passed down over centuries were now something only spoken of in the most cryptic of terms.