Chapter 5
The Bhopal Magical Gazette
May 3rd, 1987
Mystery in the Mangroves: Eighteen Poachers Dead, No Suspects Found
By Roshni Varma, Senior Correspondent
For over a year, the Bhopal Department of Magical Law Enforcement (DMLE) has been grappling with an unprecedented mystery—one that has left even the most experienced Aurors baffled.
A staggering eighteen known poachers, all illegally hunting magical creatures in the dense jungles of Madhya Pradesh, have been found dead under eerily similar circumstances. Their bodies, riddled with wounds consistent with wildlife attacks, have appeared without warning in the DMLE’s secure holding cells—delivered by Portkeys with no traceable magical signatures.
The latest case, recorded just last week, has only deepened the enigma. Healers confirm that the victim died from massive envenomation caused by a venomous serpent of unnatural size. Yet, no known species in India matches the sheer scale of the injuries—suggesting either a previously undocumented magical creature or something far stranger.
A Jungle with No Answers
Efforts to investigate the origin of the Portkeys have led Aurors to a single, recurring location—a vast, magically dense mangrove deep within the jungle, known for its eerie silence and lack of human settlements. Attempts to track magical disturbances within this region have proven futile, as whatever force resides there seems to mask its presence with alarming efficiency.
Head Auror Dhruv Kashyap, who has been leading the investigation since the first body appeared, voiced his frustration at the lack of progress:
“We know where the bodies are coming from, but we don’t know who—*or what—is behind it. The jungle is vast, and without proper magizoologists to aid us, we’re running in circles. All we know is that someone—or something—is taking justice into their own hands, and we have no idea why.”
Local Legends: A Boy Among the Snakes?
Interestingly, some tribal leaders from local indigenous communities have spoken of a boy raised by a massive serpent—a tale dismissed by many as mere folklore. According to these stories, a child, barely older than six or seven, has been glimpsed in the jungle, living outside human civilization and moving with unnatural agility through the trees.
One elder, when asked about the rumors, simply said:
“The jungle protects its own. Those who hunt with greed will never leave.”
Whether this is a mere myth or something more remains to be seen.
For now, the DMLE urges all magical individuals to exercise extreme caution when traveling near the mangrove regions and to report any sightings of unusual wildlife activity.
But one thing is certain—something watches over the jungle. And it does not forgive.
The room was dimly lit, a few scattered candles casting flickering shadows against the walls. Parchments, maps, and old texts were strewn across Sirius Black’s desk, remnants of his five nearly six year search for Harry Potter. Every lead, every whisper of a boy seen in the wild, had led to dead ends.
Until now.
Sirius stared at the Bhopal Magical Gazette—magically translated into English—his grey eyes scanning the article again and again, his heart hammering in his chest.
"A boy raised by a massive serpent…"
"A child, barely older than six or seven, glimpsed in the jungle, living outside human civilization…"
"Something watches over the jungle. And it does not forgive."
"Harry," Sirius whispered.
It had to be.
He looked up at Remus, who sat across from him, his expression cautious but hopeful. “This is the best lead we’ve ever had, Moony.”
Remus nodded, leaning forward. “It does match what little we know. The sightings, the disappearances—it all points to a child hidden in the jungle. But Sirius, there’s more.”
Sirius frowned. “More?”
Remus exhaled and pulled out a separate scroll—one carrying the seal of Gringotts.
Sirius’s stomach twisted. “What is this?”
Remus slid it over. “I took your advice and had Gringotts do a deep lineage check on Harry. Not just the Potters, but his maternal line.” He hesitated. “What they found is… unexpected.”
Sirius broke the seal, his eyes quickly scanning the document. The more he read, the more his heart pounded.
Lily Evans’ ancestry was not just a random Muggleborn heritage.
She was a direct descendant of Salazar Slytherin.
Not from the Gaunt line, not from the inbred, magic-degraded remnants that had produced Voldemort—but from the main line. The one that had vanished into obscurity centuries ago.
Sirius barely breathed.
“He’s a Parselmouth,” he said, his voice hoarse with realization. “That’s why he’s survived.”
Remus nodded. “And that’s why the jungle—and the snakes—have protected him.”
Sirius stood so fast that his chair nearly toppled over. “We need to leave. Now.”
Remus grabbed his arm before he could storm toward the fireplace. “Sirius, wait. We can’t just charge into the jungles of India blind. This isn’t like tracking a rogue Death Eater in Knockturn Alley—this is untamed wilderness. We need to prepare.”
Sirius clenched his jaw. He knew Remus was right, but the sheer need to find his godson made patience unbearable.
Still, he forced himself to take a breath.
Remus continued, his voice firm. “We’ll contact the Bhopal DMLE. Find out everything they know about these bodies turning up, about the mangrove where this is happening. If Harry’s really there, we need a plan.”
Sirius exhaled, nodding stiffly.
A plan. Right.
But no matter what—he was going to find Harry.
And this time, nothing was going to stop him.
Dhruv Kashyap had dealt with many absurd things in his career—cursed smugglers, incompetent Ministry officials, a herd of rampaging Mooncalves in the middle of a Muggle wedding. But this?
This was quickly climbing his list of Why Did I Even Come Into Work Today?
A fresh message had just arrived at his desk via an official Gringotts courier—one bearing the crest of the House of Black.
Britain.
Of course it was Britain.
With a deep sigh, Dhruv unfolded the parchment, his tired eyes scanning the contents. The message was crisp, polite, and formal, but the request itself made his head throb.
To Auror Dhruv Kashyap,
I hope this message finds you well.
I am Sirius Orion Black, Head of the House of Black, and I am writing to request a formal discussion with you regarding the ongoing incidents concerning a rumored ‘feral boy’ seen in the jungles of Madhya Pradesh.
My associate, Remus Lupin, and I believe this matter may be of great personal significance to us. If you are available, we request a secure international floo meeting at your earliest convenience.
Please inform us of your availability.
Sincerely,
Sirius O. Black
Head of the Most Ancient and Noble House of Black
Dhruv ran a hand down his face. “Why is my day getting weirder?”
Aisha Rao, who had been casually sipping chai at her desk, raised an eyebrow at his suffering. “What is it?”
Dhruv waved the letter at her. “British nobility wants to talk to me about the jungle child.”
Aisha choked on her tea. “What?”
Dhruv leaned back in his chair, staring at the ceiling. “Apparently, Sirius Black—yes, that Sirius Black, the supposedly insane one who turned out to be not insane—wants to have a little chat about our ongoing poacher problem. And the mysterious boy no one has been able to catch.”
Aisha’s lips twitched. “Huh.”
“That’s all you have to say? Huh?”
She shrugged. “I mean, it makes sense. Someone clearly cares about the kid. We’ve all been wondering who, and maybe we’re finally about to get an answer.” She smirked. “Besides, Black’s a former Auror, right? Maybe he’ll be useful.”
Dhruv groaned. “I hate that you’re making a good point.”
Aisha grinned, setting her cup down. “So… when’s the meeting?”
Dhruv sighed. “Let’s just say… as soon as I can figure out how to deal with a raging British noble with a missing heir complex without getting a migraine.”
He grabbed his quill and begrudgingly wrote his reply.
This was going to be one hell of a conversation.