Septima Praesidium
A boy, slightly short for his age but otherwise lean, pushed himself up into a crouch. Every part of his being was on fire, his muscles pitifully weak.
Next to him laid a girl, her messy brown hair spread across the stone floor of the Chamber of Secrets and her eyes colorless and glassy.
Hermione Granger.
The girl wore Gryffindor colors as opposed to the boy's own green and silver.
The boy fixed his round glasses onto his face, his green eyes coming into focus, taking in the sight of the girl warily.
...we assumed you two were close friends...
Harry Potter looked around the Chamber, feeling worse than he had when he made his first—
...but you proved us wrong, didn't you...
so very wrong
You never cared. You weren't taught to care.
You grew up with your horrid relatives, so how could you? No compassion, no love.
The boy let out a smirk, flicking his fingers and letting his wand be summoned to him.
Only a couple of feet away, a house elf quivered in its place.
"You did good, Dobby..." Harry let out with a smile. He stood up confidently, the pain earlier felt rapidly fading.
"We were bonded before by the house elf bond, but now..." he glanced at the mudblood.
A boy.
A girl.
A spell.
A house-elf
A container.
...the white-hot-pain as his soul was ripped into pieces...
Dobby, the seventh—
-protection-safe-
–Immortal–
The boy dressed in green and silver was more powerful than ever. Magic coursed through his veins, in his body, in his blood.
And it was all thanks to—
He leveled his cold eyes at Dobby once more.
All thanks to;
The seventh one.
The seventh protection.
The seventh horcrux.