Chapter 304: Return of Phineas
Although Nicolas and his wife had passed away, what they left behind greatly aided Phineas—and would continue to support him in the future. The manor left by Nicolas would now serve as a secret safe house, known only to Phineas, a sanctuary for him in times of crisis.
Thanks to the assistance of his magically-formed pythons and pangolins, the underwater excavation progressed quickly—though, of course, this speed was relative. For underwater archaeology, it was still slow. Fortunately, these creatures were the product of Phineas's shape changing magic: once he formed their bodies and infused them with souls, they no longer drained his magic. With Phineas in a dormant state, time was not a pressing concern.
Half a month later...
The ruins had finally been unearthed. The surrounding shipwrecks were sorted, and Phineas emerged from his magical hibernation.
During that time, the Greek wizarding world had grown restless. A reclusive wizarding family from Aegina suddenly went mad, scouring the country in search of a wizard who possessed a phoenix.
Of course, Albus Dumbledore was the only known wizard in Europe with a phoenix companion. Yet this family insisted there was another, and that he had stolen their family treasure.
At the time, Phineas knew nothing of this. And even if he had, he wouldn't have cared—he planned to return directly to Britain once he completed his work. What happened in Greece was the Selwyn family's problem.
Once the excavation was complete, Phineas dismissed the pythons and pangolins with a wave of his wand, stretched, and made his way into the ruins.
The structure bore all the hallmarks of ancient Greek architecture—grander than the temple he'd found on Aegina. Within stood a statue of Athena, the goddess of wisdom, a common sight near Athens.
This discovery made Phineas doubt the Selwyn family's legend. According to them, this submerged ruin had been built to imprison an evil wizard. But what he saw was a temple—an orthodox one, with no signs of imprisonment, suppression, or magical containment.
Was the legend false? Was the story merely a ruse for a wizard to leave behind powerful wands to his descendants?
If so, Phineas's search for Herpo's ruins had been in vain.
But Phineas never drew conclusions based solely on appearances. After steadying himself, he ventured deeper into the temple, more decayed than the one on Aegina.
Beyond the crumbled statue at the entrance, the ruins held nothing: no carvings, no murals, no artifacts, no secret chambers. Not even a trace of magic lingered.
So how had Wumingyi and the others determined this place was connected to Herpo?
Phineas was puzzled—until he caught sight of something in the corner of the ruins.
He rushed over and knelt.
There it was.
A scale. Hard, dark green. Not from a dragon—it resembled a serpent's.
And Phineas knew immediately—it belonged to a basilisk.
He recognized it at once. His time with Basque had made him intimately familiar with basilisk scales.
The scale was embedded in the stone pillar. It hadn't just fallen here—it had sunk with the temple itself.
Based on the temple's construction—matching that of the one on Aegina—it likely dated back to the Herpo era.
Perhaps other wizards bred basilisks during that time, but only Herpo could control one.
This ruin, then, was indeed connected to him.
Perhaps Herpo had fought here. Whether he fought against the wand-making wizard or alongside him remained unclear.
Phineas removed the scale with magic and surveyed the ruins again.
Reconsidering the layout, he started seeing new patterns.
There were traces of a three-way battle. One bore Herpo's distinct signs: dark magic, basilisk attacks, and spellwork too unique to be imitated.
Another set of marks matched the magical style used by the wizarding family on Aegina.
The third set did not resemble magical combat at all. They were the movements of a warrior—skilled, nimble, using sword and shield to evade spells and launch effective counterattacks.
A fast, agile fighter. Thin, likely.
Unusual, Phineas thought—unless it was a woman.
That's when his gaze shifted to the broken statue of Athena outside the temple.
Was Herpo... fighting a god?
Phineas smiled at the thought.
After all, gods weren't supposed to meddle in mortal affairs. And yet, here was a battleground that suggested otherwise.
Could it be that the divine once lived in a realm like the underworld, apart from the world of wizards?
And something had drawn one of them—Athena—into a battle against two powerful wizards?
Judging by the damage, the goddess may have lost. Her temple now lay at the bottom of the sea.
Unfortunately, the ruins offered no more answers.
Phineas sighed and moved on to the shipwrecks nearby.
He examined a vessel torn in half. Many of its contents had been lost to the sea, but he swam inside the broken hull.
The cabin was mostly empty—furniture bolted to the walls, but no crates or sailor belongings.
Still, Phineas rummaged through the fixed cabinets and found a few trinkets: two silver rings, one silver earring—ordinary Muggle items, not magical.
Other shipwrecks yielded similar results.
Eventually, Phineas collected four rings, two earrings, an eyepatch, a hat, two coats, a machete, two soggy navigation logs, a compass, and a telescope.
No magical artifacts. A disappointing haul.
Still, as antiques, they might fetch a decent price in the Muggle world.
But there was one important find: a staff.
It wasn't a wand, but a mage's staff—long, topped with a gemstone.
Rare and archaic, but valuable.
Modern wizards scoffed at staffs for being bulky and impractical. But Phineas saw opportunity. This staff could provide insights into wandmaking—especially for someone like Mr. Ollivander.
Wandcraft had barely evolved in a millennium. Materials, styles, amplification—almost unchanged. Even Ollivander's efforts to refine wand core pairings had offered little.
Perhaps this staff could spark real innovation.
And the Ollivander family, neutral for centuries like the Greengrasses, stood outside the control of the Black and Lestrange families.
Now that the Greengrasses supported House Black, Phineas saw value in courting Ollivander as well.
This staff would serve as a gesture of goodwill—and give Phineas confidence.
With the site cleared, Phineas vanished from the seafloor.
He reappeared at Athens International Airport and, under the influence of magic, boarded a flight to London—no documentation required.
A few hours later, he returned to his homeland—wizarding Britain.
At Lisa Manor, Damon and his men still resided—not only because Lisa was buried there, but because it made a suitable base of operations. The old strongholds were too exposed; one attack could destroy everything.
"Damon, what's the latest in the wizarding world? Have the clowns shown themselves?"
Phineas entered Damon's study unannounced.
Damon looked up and immediately stood. "Master, welcome back."
After exchanging greetings, Damon answered the question.
"Yes, Master. Just as you predicted, they began to emerge not long after your disappearance."
Though Phineas had only been away for a month, his previous seclusion brought the total to half a year—enough time for schemers to assume the worst.
Phineas nodded, a faint smile on his lips.
"Good. Then let's bring this little performance to an end."
"What do you need me to do?" Damon asked.
Phineas shook his head. "Not yet. Just wait for my word. Oh, and send this to Mr. Ollivander. Tell him I expect him soon."
He handed over the staff.
Then another thought struck him. "Has Sirius woken up?"
Damon shook his head. "No. Physically, he's recovered. But he still hasn't opened his eyes."
Phineas paused, then smiled knowingly.
"I see. Well, it's time he did."
He left Lisa Manor and made for St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries.
Though he'd only just returned to Britain, he was already busy again.
At Sirius's bedside, Phineas bent low and whispered:
"You should wake up. It's almost over. I need you to come with me to the Greengrass estate. My engagement requires your presence, after all."
Sirius's eyelids twitched, then opened. He looked at Phineas and sighed.
"How did you know I was awake?"
Phineas shrugged. "Damon told me your body had healed. I figured you'd woken up. After all, I was there when the attack happened. You must've guessed I'd use the event for my plans—so you played along."