Harry Potter and the Secret Treasures - H.P.S.T Chapter 1645: Harry's Plan

Hopefully, Voldemort would give them enough time to find the keys to Hufflepuff and Slytherin’s secret treasure.

If Voldemort were to complete his transformation into something akin to an evil god before then… what in the world could possibly stand against him?

Evan couldn’t even begin to imagine how powerful a fully realized evil god would be.

“If we’re going to Greece, we’ll have to hurry; it’s not a short distance,” said Hermione, rolling up the map on the table. “Evan, any progress on the whereabouts of the house-elves’ homeland?”

“The inscription on the Cup is written in the ancient script once used by house-elves. It’s an extremely obscure and nearly lost language — even in the past, only a handful of alchemists could read it. So there aren’t many surviving records,” Evan paused before continuing, “But thanks to the collection of ancient magical texts Nicolas Flamel sent me, I managed to decipher a few clear words last night. Translated, they mean valley.”

“Valley?”

“What valley? There are plenty of valleys.”

“That’s the crux of the problem. The place name before ‘valley’ doesn’t correspond to any known word. It’s most likely the name house-elves used for their homeland — a proper noun that can’t be directly translated, only transliterated,” Evan explained. “I’m planning to head down to the library to look through books and records about house-elves from that era. If any wizard ever visited that place, there should be some trace of it — especially in the histories of the wars between wizards and house-elves. There’s no reason something so important wouldn’t be recorded. I had Kreacher sort out documents from that period last night before bed, but it’ll take a long time to go through them all.”

“If that’s the case, I can help!” Elaine yawned on the table and said lazily, “Flipping through books is exhausting, but it’s better than sitting around doing nothing.”

“Then let’s start right away, Elaine. I’ll tell you the word and the possible transliterations in a bit. Oh, and I’ve also invented a useful little spell that can mark words in books related to ‘valley’ and words similar to these transliterations. All you have to do is…” Evan demonstrated with his wand. The pages of a book on the table flipped rapidly, as if someone were quickly turning the pages. On the page it finally stopped on, the word ‘valley’ was highlighted in yellow. Across the remaining pages, faint flickers of light shimmered here and there.

“This spell is great. It makes searching a lot easier. You should have told me about it sooner,” Elaine commented.

“It’s a fairly new charm,” Evan admitted. “And it only works properly once you’ve actually read the entire book — the spell draws on what you’ve absorbed from it.” He stood up. “Come on, let’s head to the Blacks’ library. With a bit of luck, we might find something about the house-elves’ homeland soon. Hermione, when you’re done, come give us a hand — and when Harry’s calmed down, he can join us too…”

At that moment, Harry lay on his bed, staring blankly at the dark ceiling and the cobweb-covered chandelier.

He thought of Sirius Black storming out in a huff, regretting his earlier confrontation.

Then he thought of Ron locked in the dungeon, crying helplessly.

Thinking of Ron, Harry’s chest tightened; he remembered promising Ginny he would look after him.

She must already know Ron had been taken, right?

What would Ginny’s reaction be? Would she be as upset and worried as he was?

Perhaps she would be even more worried, after all, Ginny was a girl, and Ron was her family…

Much like he had felt toward Dumbledore before, Harry found he was beginning to feel a strange resentment toward Sirius too — resenting him for not letting him take part in rescuing Ron, for keeping him out of everything.   

Although Sirius told Harry everything he knew, he was excessively cautious when it came to action. Sirius’s attitude about Harry’s participation in the Order and other efforts against Voldemort was inconsistent and contradictory.

Sometimes he seemed to treat Harry like James, encouraging him to do impulsive and dangerous things with him; other times, Sirius seemed to think Harry was still a child, preventing him from participating in anything.

That inconsistency confused Harry and fueled his resentment towards Sirius.

At the same time, he was also furious at the so-called rationality of Evan, Hermione, and the others. He knew, of course, that going to rescue Ron at this time was unwise, but some things had to be done, and couldn’t be measured by reason alone.

Wasn’t that right? Should he not rescue Ron just because it was dangerous, just because he couldn’t do it?!

Anger and resentment spread through his heart. Harry could no longer bear lying there in anguish. He sat up in bed. If the others intended to do nothing, then he would do something himself.

First, he needed to find out where Malfoy Manor was, so he could rescue Ron!

Although Harry had heard Malfoy boast about the luxuriousness of his manor more than once, he genuinely didn’t know its exact location.

Wizarding homes were always kept secret, known only to close confidants.

Perhaps Harry could go out and capture a Death Eater to interrogate him about the manor’s whereabouts.

That was undoubtedly dangerous. While Evan could easily handle Death Eaters, Harry wasn’t sure if he possessed that ability. He figured fighting an ordinary Death Eater shouldn’t be a problem… but even if he knew the manor’s location, what would he do?

Go there and knock on the door, announce that Harry Potter wished to visit? He had to admit, that was suicidal.

Then Harry remembered he could use Polyjuice Potion. That potion was very effective, allowing him to impersonate a Death Eater, and he knew Evan had it; if he thought of a way, he could probably get his hands on some.

However, doing so without attracting Evan’s attention seemed difficult as well.

He’d also have to choose the identity he’d assume carefully — not a low-ranking Death Eater, but someone who could get into Malfoy Manor and all the way down to the dungeons. …

Harry flopped back onto his bed and stared at the dark ceiling, lost in thought.

Until, a sharp voice rang out, “Harry Potter, Dobby has brought your breakfast!”

A flash of inspiration struck Harry, and a plan instantly formed: Dobby the house-elf — he used to work for the Malfoys. …

Translating_Wizard

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