Ch 29 Unraveling The Past Part 1

"Herpo The Great?"  Sirius raised an eyebrow, trying to place the name, "Never heard of that,"

"How can you not know? Am I not famous in the future?" he questioned, a mix of annoyance and disbelief in his voice, "From the smallest village to the biggest town, everywhere I went, people would flock to me to flatter me, they would beg to get the chance to get treated, some would even travel months and years just to be able to see my face. I think some of them even created a temple under my name and worshipped me every day..."

"Wait a minute, I think I've read about those temples," Sirius interjected, snapping his fingers, "A few of those temples have been found around the world... but everyone believed them to be some sort of place where evil cultists wizards gathered to perform dark rituals and pray to Herpo the Foul or something..."

The voice from the floating magical ball suddenly snorted, "As if anyone would ever worship that brother of mine—" he began before stopping abruptly. Realization dawned on him, and he continued, "I-I think I know why nobody remembers me in the future... It seems my brother succeeded in what he threatened to do."

"What? What are you talking about?"

"Where do I begin...Hmm...Right, You don't even know about the Herpo Clan, do you?"

"No..."

"Then let's start from there," the voice began, adopting a nostalgic tone, "Our family was once one of the most powerful in the world, renowned not for conventional strength, but for our exceptional healing arts, from the most isolated wizards to the richest of muggles, there was hardly anyone who'd never heard of us,"

Sirius almost opened his mouth to ask the floating magic ball about how the muggles would know about wizard healers before he suddenly remembered that Herpo's time was way before the International Statute of Wizarding Secrecy was placed in the seventeenth century. So it meant that during his time, wizards lived somewhat openly among the muggles.

"And then I was born to the head of our family," he said with pride in his voice, "From a very young age, I began to show a talent for the healing arts that was never before seen in our clan's history. I could perform complex healing charms in a matter of days, while it took others decades to perfect. By the time I was out of my teens, I was already researching and developing new spells, cures, and improving old ones."

"I was hailed as the most prodigal healer of our time by the time I came of age," he continued proudly, "There was almost no wound I couldn't heal, no disease, magical or mundane, I couldn't cure, no curse I couldn't reverse—"

"Yeah! Yeah! I get it," Sirius interrupted, rolling his eyes. He sat down, cross-legged on the floor, thinking it might take a while. "You were the best the world had ever seen... Can you get on with it? Instead of just boasting."

"Ahem! Sorry," Herpo looked embarrassed for a moment before continuing, "Anyway, as I was saying, my feats spread from one mouth to another. Those whose lives I saved, whose relatives I brought back from the brink of death, began calling me 'Herpo the Great.' And it was also during that time my father gave up his position as the head and decided to pass it on to me..."

His voice dimmed slightly as he continued, "That would turn out to be the biggest mistake of his life..."

"Why?"

"Because you see, it was never meant to be mine..." Herpo's voice turned sad, "My father had another boy before me, his firstborn, but he rarely acknowledged him as such. Outside of a select few, almost no one outside of our family even knew he existed. And the reason for that was simple... my brother didn't have a drop of healing talent in him."

"He couldn't even perform a simple mending charm by the time he became an adult—a charm any child in our family could perform with ease a few days after getting their wand. No matter how many hours he spent on it, no matter how much he practised, my brother just couldn't cast even the most basic of healing spells."

"My father considered him a disgrace and, when he saw my talent, he isolated my brother completely. He didn't talk about him, never mentioned him to anyone, and acted like I was his only son. My brother was forced to move to a completely different area so people wouldn't see him... he was essentially exiled in his own home," he finished in a sympathetic tone.

"My brother, who was always taller than me, was the one who always remained in my shadows," Herpo's voice turned neutral. "Of course, it was only later in life that I learned how wrong that was, how disgusting it was for a child to be treated as such. But back then, I was just an arrogant kid, and all the praise from people around me had gotten to my head. When I was chosen to become the family head instead of my older brother, all I felt was pride," he finished with a tone of guilt.

"I am sure it wasn't your fault," Sirius tried to console the voice awkwardly, "You didn't  exactly choose that to happen,"

"Thank you for saying that," he said gratefully,

"Anyway... I never noticed the hatred in his eyes as envy consumed him. He grew desperate to claim what he believed he was owed and deserved. Finally, he made an irreversible decision—to poison me during a family dinner."

"My brother wasn't very cunning, and even for him, it was a new low. Trying to poison me, a member of a family known for our healing abilities, at a gathering was undoubtedly the stupidest thing he could have done," Herpo said with a condescending tone. "As expected, he was easily caught and proudly proclaimed his sin to my father, asserting that he would make a better head than me."

"My father had been waiting for an opportunity like this for years. He immediately decided to take action and used this excuse to banish my brother from the family tree," Herpo recounted.

"That's..." Sirius tried to express his feelings, but he found it difficult to determine if it was pity for one of the darkest wizards in history or if what had happened was justified.

"Exactly," the voice agreed, understanding the complexity of the situation. "And as you could guess, my brother was livid, filled with even more hatred for our family. He swore to return and bring ruin upon us all. But, of course, no one took him seriously, as he wasn't a very competent wizard—or at least that's what they thought."

"After leaving our family, he roamed various wizarding establishments around the world and finally realized that while he might lack talent in healing, there was one field of magic where he was a prodigy—a field where he excelled above anyone else."

Sirius sarcastically interjected, "Let me guess... The Dark Arts?"

"The Dark Arts," the voice confirmed. "There wasn't a high barrier of entry for those willing to learn, making it deceptively easy for anyone to get drawn in. But that's just an illusion meant to lure in the unsuspecting. Once they get entangled, it becomes almost impossible to escape its grasp."

"The Dark Arts require a special kind of mentality, a high fortitude and willpower to avoid becoming its slave. You must be able to use them rather than be used by them, to resist the temptation of falling so deeply into darkness that you can only perform the darkest magic. My brother discovered he had those qualities in abundance," Herpo explained.

"Obviously," Sirius quipped sarcastically.

"For about a decade, he disappeared, and no one knew what he was up to. Some believed he had died. It was only later that we found out about his activities," Herpo continued. "He travelled the world, seeking knowledge wherever he could get... whether willingly or not... some took him as their student wanting to impart the Dark arts on such a brilliant student while others denied him not wanting to share their hard-earned research... But in the end, it didn't matter what they did as they all ended up the same... Dead. As my brother had picked up a nasty habit of killing people after their use had expired,"

"And so, the only way to trace his path was to follow the trail of bodies he left behind. Some were those who got in his way, others he captured for his experiments, while he took pleasure in killing some just for the thrill of it," Herpo said grimly. "As tales of his atrocities spread, people began to fear him, dread his arrival, they began to acknowledge him as a fearsome wizard, a Dark Lord... and eventually, they gave him the name, 'Herpo the Foul,' which my brother was particularly fond of,"

"I bet he was," Sirius snorted, it felt as if all the dark lords had somewhat of a fetish for having stupid names.