The obsidian slab was cold even against the rough fabric of Harry's jacket. He was moving east, away from Godric's Hollow and the stifling British surveillance. The clue— Ubi Poenitentia Semper Habitat , Where Penance Always Dwells—had pinned him on Nurmengard , the alpine prison where Gellert Grindelwald had spent his final years.
It was Dumbledore's penance, the place where his greatest love and mistake had been buried.
Traveling on Muggle trains and cargo ferries gave Harry a stark and bleak view of Europe under Voldemort's rule.
Dominated Britain was just the epicenter. On the continent, paranoia was a slow-moving fever. Muggle borders were militarized, and wizarding borders were mere formalities, ignored by Death Eaters who moved at will.
The Forbidden Crossing
Harry spent three days traveling, his only food stale bread and black coffee, his mind a cauldron of strategy. The only way to cross the Channel without risking detection from tracking spells was via a smuggled ferry that departed from an obscure port near Dover.
On a rusty metal dock, under a fog that smelled of oil and despair, Harry approached a group of sailors carrying crates marked with low-intensity protective runes.
"I'm looking for the 'Blind Dragon,'" Harry muttered, using the password Elijah Thorne had given him.
A tall, silent man with a harpoon tattooed on his neck stopped.
His eyes, reddened by salt and fatigue, assessed Harry with immediate suspicion. "The Blind Dragon only carries what's worth the risk. And you look like an empty box, mate."
"I'm carrying information," Harry said, knowing that information was the most valuable currency for the resistance. "The locations of three potion caches Voldemort's Ministry plans to seize next week. I have them in my head."
The man hesitated. The mention of sensitive information lent him credibility. "Get in. Don't talk, don't move, and if they find us, you're a rat who got in."
Harry nodded. He slipped into the hold. It was crammed with sacks of grain, barrels, and the stench of a long voyage. He huddled between two barrels, closing his eyes.
— Flashback: The Price of Silence (4 years ago) —
· Exile in Cornwall had been more brutal than he'd imagined. It wasn't just about getting away, it was about letting go of his wand . He'd hidden it in Potter Manor in Godric's Hollow, before the Ministry sealed it away. Instead, he'd used his body. He'd learned wandless boxing, trained in the darkness, every blow a punishment.
· A vivid memory: a panic attack in total darkness. Harry felt his magic slipping through his fingers, and the terror of being helpless was worse than any Cruciatus . Only guilt kept him sane. If he had failed with magic, he would try to fail in a less destructive way without it. He had learned that physical pain was a more reliable anchor than hope.
— End of Flashback —
The Reunion at the Alpine Pass
The ferry landed near a fishing port on the French coast, under a frosty moon. Harry said goodbye to the silent sailor and continued on foot, climbing toward the Alps, where Nurmengard stood.
The alpine crossing was lonely and exhausting. The mountain offered no respite. Three days later, the cold was a constant, and the altitude made breathing a struggle. It was at nightfall, in a small, gloomy village at the foot of the mountain, that the search came to a halt.
Harry was in a Muggle inn with a glass of brandy, consulting a crumpled map of the area. That's when he heard the voice. A voice that had been the compass of his youth, the logic in his chaos.
"Is 'Jim' still drinking alone?"
Harry froze, the glass halfway to his lips. The voice was deeper, more tired, but unmistakable. He turned around slowly.
There was Hermione Granger .
She wasn't the girl he remembered. There was a deep weariness in her eyes, but intelligence and fury still burned.
Her brown hair was tied back practically, but her face was more angular, marked by worries Harry hadn't shared. She wore sturdy Muggle clothes, but around her neck hung a necklace with a small, discreet Memory Liner .
Harry's reaction wasn't joy, but cold, protective rage . His first instinct was to yell at him to leave.
"You shouldn't be here," Harry hissed, reverting to the dry tone of "Jim."
Hermione approached the table and sat down uninvited. "No. I'm not 'here.' I'm tracking you , Harry. Three years. Three years of trying to find the shadow that thought itself too important to say goodbye."
"You left, Hermione. You chose your life. I chose my punishment," Harry retorted.
"I didn't choose my life, Harry. You gave it to me. You told me that if we survived, the promise was to live , to get married, to have children... but you left us a world we still have to fight for," Hermione said, her voice trembling with suppressed emotion, but her control absolute. "I swear, if it weren't for the fact that the world needed you, I would leave you here to die in your self-induced misery."
The Knot of Tension
Harry threw the obsidian plaque onto the table. The impact sounded sharp.
"I'm putting myself out of my misery. I'm looking for the Mirror of Eridanos. Dumbledore left a clue," Harry said, breaking the silence he'd maintained about his mission.
Hermione's eyes widened slightly. She picked up the plaque with quick, practiced fingers. She read the Latin: " Ubi Poenitentia Semper Habitat ."
"Nurmengard," he whispered, the word heavy with history and sadness. "Why would Dumbledore tell you? It's the place of deepest remorse he ever felt."
"Because the mirror reverses the mistake, Hermione. I want to reverse our mistake," said Harry, bowing. "I don't want to win. I want to undo what I did so you and Ron can live."
Hermione remained silent. Then she drew her wand. Not for a spell, but to place it on the table. It was a wand of simple, functional design, worn through by countless uses.
"Ron is alive. In exile, like you, but not by his own choice. He's being tracked. He's being kept at bay. But he keeps fighting in his own way," Hermione revealed, the first crack of genuine emotion. "I've been searching for a way for us to reunite and hit Voldemort where it hurts. This Hallow is our only chance. A magical one. I'm not going to let you ruin it alone."
The New Track and the Intellectual Challenge
Hermione slid the obsidian plate under the flickering light. As she did so, the gleam revealed a second set of barely visible engravings, letters Harry hadn't noticed in the dim light of the dragonbone lantern. It was an ancient runic cipher that only someone with a knowledge of advanced theoretical magic could decipher.
"The first layer is the location. The second is the key to Nurmengard," Hermione explained, sliding her finger over the engraving. "This is a 17th-century transition cipher, used by alchemists. It's a time key . We can't enter Nurmengard until we know the exact moment the prison becomes magically permeable."
The engraving read: "Hic Est Vesper In Quo Amicitia Finit" (Here is the sunset in which friendship ends). Below was a sequence of Roman numerals and runes that resembled an equation.
"The sunset where friendship ends..." Harry muttered, the memory of Dumbledore and Grindelwald flooding his mind.
"It's not the duel. It's the rupture , Harry. The exact date and time Dumbledore realized Grindelwald was a monster," Hermione explained, now fully focused. "We need a source with Dumbledore's exact chronology of events. Something that isn't in the Muggle archives or the Ministry's public records."
"Where did we find him?" Harry asked, feeling overwhelming relief at having Hermione's brilliant mind back on his side.
"Only one person would have that kind of intimate record: a relative. Someone who hasn't been touched by Voldemort, because he had no power," Hermione replied, her eyes blazing with the fire of research. "We need to find Aberforth Dumbledore ."
Harry stood up. The anger was still there, but now he had a purpose and a companion. He was no longer alone in his penance.
"Aberforth is in Hogsmeade, near Hogwarts," said Harry. "And that means we're going to have to walk back through the lion's den."
Hermione smiled, her expression fleeting and hard. "Then let's walk, Harry. But this time, we'll do it together."