Support the magic—50 epic chapters, 1000+ words each, and an unforgettable retelling of Harry Potter. Only on my Patreon.
patreon.com/Kun_kunsi12
That night, Harry dreamed of mirrors.
But not the Mirror of Erised — not the one he had once stood before during Christmas break last year, where he saw his parents smiling.
This mirror was broken. Shattered into a hundred uneven fragments, each showing something different.
One shard reflected a tower with floating staircases.Another, a flickering blue flame.Another, a dark forest with silver-eyed wolves howling silently at a blood moon.
In the largest fragment — the one directly in front of him — stood the girl again.
Her image was clearer now. She wore silver-threaded robes, a chain around her neck holding a crystal sphere that glowed with pale blue light. Her eyes looked straight at him.
"You've opened it," she whispered.
Harry didn't know if she meant the vault, the letter, or something else entirely.
"Who are you?" he asked.
The girl's expression flickered.
"You don't remember yet.""But I do."
Suddenly, the room around her began to crack like glass. The air twisted. Her voice grew louder — urgent.
"They erased the truth. They erased me.""But memory is magic… and magic forgets nothing."
Her face distorted — flickered like a broken memory. Then the mirror shards shattered into mist, and Harry jolted awake.
He was still in his small rented room above the Leaky Cauldron, chest heaving. The sky outside was still dark. 4:12 a.m., according to the old alarm clock ticking on the nightstand.
Harry sat up, rubbing his temples.
This wasn't a normal dream.
📚 Later That Morning
At breakfast, he tried to explain it to Hermione.
"Another dream?" she asked, stirring her tea.
"This one felt different," Harry said. "She said I've forgotten something. Something that was erased."
Hermione leaned forward, lowering her voice. "Erased how? You think someone tampered with your memory?"
Harry nodded slowly.
Hermione bit her lip. "It's not impossible. Memory charms are dangerous, but they can be cast on children. Even on infants. You'd never know unless…"
"Unless something starts breaking through," Harry finished.
Hermione reached into her book bag and pulled out a tattered leather volume.
"This is Legacies of the Lost Lineages. It talks about magical memory triggers — certain artifacts or bloodline keys that 'awaken' when the heir is close enough. If that mirror shard you saw is tied to your ancestry…"
"Then it's trying to wake something up," Harry whispered.
She nodded. "Exactly."
Harry leaned back, mind racing. "She said something about magic not forgetting."
"That's an old Ravenclaw phrase," Hermione said, eyes sparkling with thought. "The mind may fail, but magic remembers. It's part of the theory behind memory imprints."
"Memory imprints?" Harry asked.
"Sort of like… echoes. Emotions or knowledge sealed in magical objects. They're rare, unpredictable, and sometimes sentient."
Like Tom Riddle's diary, Harry realized. But this didn't feel dark. It felt… lost. Lonely.
He still couldn't get the girl's eyes out of his head.
🚂 King's Cross Station — One Day Before Departure
Despite the letter's warning, Harry stood in King's Cross station again. The place bustled with Muggles dragging luggage, train announcements echoing overhead, the smell of coffee and diesel heavy in the air.
He scanned the wall between platforms 9 and 10.
Platform 9¾ was just steps away.
But today, he wasn't going through it.
Instead, he searched for the other thing the letter had mentioned:
"Use the Half-Door."
He'd walked the platform five times already, looking ridiculous. No sign of a "half-door." No secret handle, no shimmering portal. Just brick, concrete, and confused passersby.
Until—
A shimmer caught his eye.
Near a forgotten maintenance corridor, half hidden behind a vending machine, he spotted it.
An old wooden door — only about four feet tall, like it had been built for a child or a very determined house-elf. Painted navy blue, weathered with age. Carved into the center was the faint image of a raven.
He stepped toward it, heart pounding.
He bent down and touched the handle.
It turned with a faint click.
Harry crouched lower, leaned in… and fell forward.
🌀 Not King's Cross Anymore
The world blurred. His ears rang. Light bent.
Then — silence.
He landed softly on… grass?
Harry looked up.
He was standing in a circular meadow surrounded by tall marble columns. A silver mist hung in the air, and floating above the center of the space was a glowing orb — pale blue, like the one the girl had worn around her neck.
A voice echoed through the space — not a whisper this time, but calm and warm.
"Welcome, Heir of the Forgotten."
Harry turned in a slow circle. No one else.
"You have stepped into the Memory Chamber. A place sealed by Rowena Ravenclaw herself."
Suddenly, a ripple of magic swirled in front of him. A shimmering figure appeared — the same girl from the mirror shard.
This time, she looked aware. She wasn't a ghost, or an echo.
She was real.
Well — almost real.
"Who are you?" Harry asked again.
The girl's voice was clear now, strong.
"My name is Seraphina Ravenclaw. I was the last blood heir before the line was broken.""You are the first since."
Harry took a step back. "No… that can't be right. I'm a Potter."
"You are also a Ravenclaw," she said. "Your mother's blood carries more than love and sacrifice. It carries memory. And a gift that was buried before you were born."
"Buried by who?"
Her eyes darkened.
"By those who feared what I remembered.""By those who feared what you might become."
Harry felt the ground tremble faintly beneath his feet.
Seraphina's image began to flicker.
"You must find the Tower," she said. "The real one. Not in dreams."
Harry stepped closer. "Where is it?"
But Seraphina was fading.
"Seek the thought forgotten…""The tower... rises... from the broken mind..."
The Memory Chamber collapsed into mist.
Harry gasped and staggered forward, falling hard onto concrete.
He was back.
Coughing, dizzy, he looked behind him — the Half-Door was gone.
No trace left.
Only the soft echo of Seraphina's voice remained in his mind:
"The tower rises…"
Support the magic—50 epic chapters, 1000+ words each, and an unforgettable retelling of Harry Potter. Only on my Patreon.
patreon.com/Kun_kunsi12