Chapter 6
The next afternoon, Harry was peacefully sipping his tea when a loud CRASH echoed through the house.
“...I don’t want to know,” he muttered to himself.
“DADDY!” Salazar’s panicked voice rang out. “I DIDN’T DO IT!”
Harry sighed, set his cup down, and hurried toward the commotion. When he reached the hallway, he found a disaster zone: a pile of shattered glass on the floor, an empty display stand (where once a decorative vase had proudly stood), and four very guilty-looking children frozen in place.
“I told you that wouldn’t work!” Erus hissed at Erebus.
“You’re the one who said we could balance it with magic!” Erebus shot back.
“I was testing a theory!”
“You threw a sock at it!”
“I was testing physics!”
“Physics doesn’t make the vase explode, Erebus!”
“It didn’t explode!” Erebus huffed. “It shattered dramatically. That’s very different.”
“Why do you even know the word physics?” Harry interrupted, pinching the bridge of his nose.
“Hermione said it’s important,” Erebus replied innocently.
Salazar tugged on Harry’s sleeve. “Technically... I didn’t do it,” he reminded him. “I was just watching.”
“You were cheering!” Erus snapped.
“I like explosions!”
“Enough!” Harry barked. “Everyone, sit.”
The children obediently plopped themselves on the nearest sofa, heads bowed like they were awaiting judgment in a courtroom.
Moments later, Voldemort arrived, surveyed the scene, and sighed deeply.
“What... happened?” he asked in that calm, dangerous voice that meant someone was in deep trouble.
“Science,” Erebus muttered.
“Chaos,” Erus corrected.
“Poor life decisions,” Ares added cheerfully.
“Definitely not me!” Salazar chimed in.
Voldemort stared at them for a long, silent moment.
“...I’m proud of the creativity,” he finally said.
“Tom!” Harry scolded, incredulous.
“Well, they attempted theoretical magic on an unstable object,” Voldemort argued. “I can’t fault their ambition.”
“You would praise their chaos,” Harry muttered.
“Punishment?” Voldemort prompted.
Harry thought for a moment, then smirked. “They’re cleaning the entire library.”
Four horrified groans erupted in unison.
“But there are hundreds of books!” Ares protested.
“Better get started,” Harry replied, far too pleased with himself.
For the next hour, the Potter-Riddle children sulkily shuffled through the library, dusting bookshelves and muttering about how unfair life was.