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Chapter 5: Grey's Resolve
Hydra Lestrange returned to the old manor with tear-reddened eyes.
She sat on the floor beside Momo in a proper duck-sit, untied her sachet, and poured all the Galleons onto the ground.
She counted them once.
Then again.
Then six or seven more times.
There was no mistake.
Seventy-three Galleons in total.
She still had to survive for twelve more years. What could this pitiful sum possibly accomplish?
…Right.
There were also the three Galleons she had thrown away earlier.
The Little Dart Snake could not understand why its Little Mistress had been crawling through the courtyard like a madwoman. She searched relentlessly, not stopping even once the entire afternoon.
Night fell.
Hydra finally gave up.
She had found only one Galleon.
Already impoverished, she had now suffered the devastating loss of two more.
Her mood sank to the depths.
She felt like a damp, miserable mushroom.
Returning to the second floor, Hydra found that Momo was still unconscious.
A quick assessment told her that Momo needed Wound-Cleaning Potion and Burn-Healing Paste at the very least. There was also the possibility of internal injuries—those required professional examination.
Unfortunately, her sachet contained none of the necessary medical supplies.
Although Momo had inadvertently caused her trouble, it had been unintentional. And for such unwavering loyalty, Hydra felt it was worth spending a few Galleons.
…Another expense.
With a pained expression, Hydra switched to the house-elf magical constitution.
The moment the shift completed, she could feel the magic in the surrounding air—dense, obedient, responsive.
Despite the emptiness of her wizarding magic circuits, she could now cast spells freely.
House-elves truly were a miraculous race.
"Ashwinder," Hydra asked softly, turning to the little snake, "are you willing to leave with me?"
The snake shook its head.
"My master ordered me to guard this old manor. I cannot disobey."
Hydra nodded in understanding.
"Very well," she said gently, stroking its smooth head. "Then I'm leaving. May we meet again, if fate allows."
The Ashwinder nodded solemnly.
With a sharp crack, Hydra vanished.
---
The Grey Family Manor
Rain lashed against the windows. Lightning tore through the sky, thunder roaring in its wake.
In the grand hall, candles burned atop the long table.
More than a dozen members of the Grey family—men and women, young and old—sat in grim silence.
Stevenson Grey stood before them, pale and trembling, his missing hand hidden beneath his sleeve.
"Stevenson," an old voice spoke, "you are saying Hydra Lestrange is not a Squib?"
"I… I don't know, Grandfather," Stevenson replied shakily. "I only know that she spat out green venom, and then Uncle Northon died."
"And Daniel's hand? Yours?" the old man pressed. "That was caused by the curse in the Gaunt manor?"
"Yes."
Bode Grey, head of the family, rose slowly and walked toward the floor-to-ceiling window.
All eyes followed him.
Lightning split the heavens, thunder shaking the glass.
Against the storm, Bode's voice was cold and unwavering.
"Hydra is very likely his daughter."
Everyone knew exactly who he was.
A chill ran from their spines to the soles of their feet.
"There is no retreat," Bode said, turning back, rain and lightning framing his silhouette. "We must find her—and kill her."
Thunder crashed.
"Notify the Ministry," he continued. "Say that Hydra Lestrange is a Dark Wizard who fled after murdering two members of our family."
"But Uncle," Serenis Grey said anxiously, "the Ministry won't believe it. She didn't even receive a Hogwarts letter this year. In their eyes, she's just a Squib."
"That doesn't matter," Bode replied calmly. "Barty Crouch despises Dark Wizards. Tell him she may be the Dark Lord's daughter. That alone will earn her a wanted notice."
A cruel smile crept onto the old man's lips.
"Minister Bagnold is ageing. Her grip on the Ministry weakens with every year. With enough Galleons greasing the right palms, there will be no shortage of people eager to hunt down a child."
His gaze shifted to a bag of treasure on the table, his smile widening.
"Stevenson, you were clever to bring this back."
He tapped his wand lightly in the air.
Silver mist billowed forth, forming a moving image.
It showed Hydra crouched in the grass, desperately searching for Galleons. Rain began to fall, and she hurried back toward the manor.
"She was clever too," Bode said softly. "She knew Galleons cannot easily be tampered with."
Then he laughed.
"But she never imagined that every single coin in that bundle had been enchanted with a Homing Charm."
Thunder roared again.
The storm that night was particularly violent.
---
Purge and Dowse Ltd., London
An old red-brick department store stood silently in the rain.
Black water stains streaked down its walls, whispering of centuries past.
With a crack, Hydra appeared beneath the awning.
The rain fell heavily; the streets were deserted.
Ignoring the sign that read CLOSED FOR REFURBISHMENT, she walked straight to the shop window.
An ugly doll stared back at her, its button eyes lifeless.
Hydra knew the rules.
"My house-elf has suffered magical injuries," she said calmly. "She requires treatment."
The doll nodded stiffly and raised an arm.
Permission granted.
Hydra stepped forward—and the glass rippled like water.
She emerged inside the reception area of St Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries.
A plump blonde witch hurried over, beaming.
"Oh, what a pretty little darling you are!"
Then she noticed Momo.
"Oh Merlin—this is a house-elf! Such serious injuries! You need the Magical Damage ward, second floor. Come along, dear!"
The corridor was lined with tightly shut doors.
From within, agonised screams echoed endlessly.
"Don't be frightened," the witch said cheerfully. "Most treatments here are painless."
She leaned closer and lowered her voice conspiratorially.
"The ones who scream the loudest are always idiots. The ways they injure themselves are… creative."
After a brief examination, the Healer worked swiftly. Potions and spells flowed together with practised ease.
Momo's burns faded visibly.
"There we are," the doctor said, clapping his hands. "She'll wake up naturally."
"Seven Galleons."
Hydra felt her soul leave her body.
Seven.
After paying, she had only sixty-seven left.
Holding Momo, Hydra headed for the exit.
She planned to spend the night at the Leaky Cauldron—she was starving, soaked through, and desperately needed a hot bath.
"Little miss!"
The doctor called out suddenly.
Hydra turned warily.
"I recommend observation overnight," he said. "Just to be safe."
"No need," Hydra replied politely. "Your skills are excellent."
Seven Galleons was the price of a child's first wand!
"I insist," the doctor continued. "We have spare wards. I'll arrange one—for free."
Free.
Hydra hesitated.
"…Is there food?"
The doctor laughed. "I'll even treat you to patient meals."
"…Alright," Hydra agreed instantly.
After settling them in, the doctor lingered outside the ward, his expression complicated.
"She doesn't look like a Dark Wizard at all," he murmured.
"So young…"
"How did she end up on a wanted poster?"
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