Nero stirred.
His body ached, as if he had been crushed under an immense weight and left to lie there for an eternity.
His limbs were sluggish, his mind foggy, but as his senses slowly returned, he became aware of the gentle warmth of sunlight filtering through a window.
A rhythmic sound reached his ears, soft sniffles, a choked whimper.
"Y-Young Master…!"
He turned his head weakly. There, standing beside his bed, was Witty, his house-elf.
The small creature had tears streaming down his face, his large ears drooping as he wrung his hands together in distress.
"Witty was so worried! Witty couldn't help you, Young Master!" Witty sobbed, his voice trembling with guilt. "It was the first time Witty couldn't enter a room in the house! It was like there was a barrier… Witty tried and tried, but Witty couldn't reach you! Witty is sorry, so sorry!"
Nero exhaled softly, shifting slightly.
His body protested, sharp pain stabbing through his ribs.
Even so, he managed to lift a hand and rest it on Witty's small head.
"Don't blame yourself, Witty," he said, his voice hoarse but firm. "It wasn't your fault."
Witty sniffled, rubbing his eyes.
Nero glanced around, realizing he was in an unfamiliar room.
Rustic wooden walls, dim lighting, the faint scent of old parchment and goat's milk in the air.
"Where are we?" he asked.
"We are inside the house of Master Aberforth Dumbledore," Witty explained. "The Mistress… the Mistress told Witty that if anything ever happened to her, and to young Master Nero, Witty should contact Master Aberforth."
"See, Witty? You did help me." He gave a small, pained smile.
Witty brightened slightly, but his relief was short-lived as Nero suddenly groaned and clutched his ribs.
The pain was sharper than he had expected.
"Witty will go look for everyone!" the elf declared before vanishing with a crack.
Nero let out a slow breath, his mind already racing.
That man… That power I felt toward the end…
The sheer overwhelming difference in strength, the way he had been utterly helpless…
It replayed in his mind over and over. The gap was too vast.
His hands clenched into fists.
"I need to grow much, much stronger than that."
His vision blurred. He didn't know if it was from exhaustion or frustration, but a few silent tears slipped down his face.
He quickly wiped them away just as the door was kicked open with a loud bang.
A cacophony of voices followed.
"Nero!!!"
"Bloody hell, you scared us half to death!"
"Nero, you idiot! Don't ever do that again!"
The room was suddenly flooded with noise and motion as Lilith, Ember, and Alaric burst in, speaking all at once, their emotions completely unchecked.
Lilith was the first to reach him.
She looked as if she was about to throw herself at him but hesitated at the last moment, her eyes flickering to his injuries.
Still, she reached out, pressing her hand gently against his arm as if confirming he was really there.
Aberforth followed behind them, scowling. "Shut up, you lot! There's a sick person in here!"
Nero couldn't help but chuckle at that, despite the pain.
He reached up and wiped the last remnants of his tears with the back of his hand. "I'm fine, really," he said, though his hoarse voice and battered body suggested otherwise.
The others didn't look convinced.
"I swear, you have a death wish," Ember muttered, arms crossed.
Alaric just let out a long sigh. "At least you're awake."
They spent a few moments talking, letting the tension settle.
Lilith hadn't let go of his arm, her fingers tracing small circles against his skin absentmindedly.
She was glaring at him, fierce, furious, but her grip was gentle, as if she was afraid he might disappear.
Then, the mood shifted.
The door creaked open again, and the presence that entered silenced the room.
Albus Dumbledore.
Aberforth groaned but said nothing, merely folding his arms and stepping aside.
Dumbledore's gaze swept over Nero, taking in his injuries, the way he held himself.
Something flickered in the old man's blue eyes, understanding, perhaps even regret.
He inclined his head slightly.
"It is good to see you awake, Nero."
Nero nodded, forcing himself to sit up despite the dull ache spreading through his body.
"I need to tell you what happened."
And so he did.
He recounted everything in as much detail as he could, the appearance of the man, eerily similar to his own, his overwhelming strength, the relentless attacks.
He spoke of how nothing he did had even come close to affecting him.
He described how the man had taunted him, revealing that he had orchestrated the attack by the Lestranges.
Lilith, Ember, and Alaric were visibly shaken by the revelation, their eyes dark with anger and concern.
But then came the final part.
Nero hesitated, his fingers clenching the bedsheets.
His voice was quieter when he spoke again.
"Before he left… he called me 'son'."
Silence.
Lilith's grip on his arm tightened.
Ember's sharp intake of breath was the only sound in the room.
Alaric's eyes narrowed. "Was it a figure of speech or…?"
Dumbledore's gaze sharpened.
He observed Nero for a long moment before speaking.
"What has Melina told you about your parents?"
Nero exhaled, his shoulders tense. "She always told me that my father was dead," he said slowly. "But whenever I asked about my mother… she would cry. Every time. I stopped asking because I didn't want to hurt her."
Dumbledore nodded, as if he had expected that answer.
His expression was unreadable, but something about the way he held himself seemed heavier than usual, burdened by unspoken truths.
Aberforth clicked his tongue. "The old woman knew what she was doing," he muttered under his breath.
Nero frowned. "You knew my parents?"
Aberforth scoffed. "Course I did. That's why I said that."
He paused, and for a brief moment, the edge in his voice softened.
"I didn't always agree with Melina, but she wasn't stupid."
He looked away, as if the memory had taken him somewhere he hadn't meant to go.
Before Nero could press further, another presence entered the room.
"Enough of this! You lot are worse than a pack of wild Hippogriffs in rut!"
Madam Pomfrey stormed inside, her wand already drawn.
Her sharp gaze swept over everyone before landing on Nero.
"Out! All of you! This boy needs proper treatment, not an interrogation!"
Lilith hesitated.
"Now!" Pomfrey snapped, shooing them back. "You can sulk outside."
With much grumbling, the others reluctantly left.
Dumbledore cleared his throat, "Forgive us Pomona. Nero, listen well to Professor Pomfrey. Let us discuss your parents after you have properly rested."
Pomfrey huffed before turning to Nero. "Honestly, do you have any idea what you've put your body through?"
He barely managed a weak smile before she waved her wand over him.
A shimmering light passed over his body. Her expression softened slightly.
"Your mind is strained, but it will recover. Your body, however, will need another week of potions before it can heal completely." She adjusted his blankets. "No lasting scars, though. Consider yourself lucky."
Nero exhaled in relief. "Thank you, Madam Pomfrey."
She gave him a look. "Thank me by resting properly. No heroics."
Nero only smiled faintly as she fussed over him.
But even as exhaustion weighed on him, his thoughts remained sharp.
Soon, he would finally learn the truth.
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