It had taken four long hours and three dead bodies in the hallway. But he had found it.
Gellert stared down at the book. A tattered little thing locked away in the depths of the Archives. It was dirty, pages were missing, torn and those that still survived had mad scribbles which covered much of the text.
But this book contained the key to immorality.
He read over the passage once more.
"For an accomplished wizard the ritual is simple. One must prepare an altar inside overlapping pentagrams. Upon the altar should be a bowl of the wizards own blood, along with the object desired to store the soul fragment. The incantation MUST be recited in the correct order o- or- they will take MORE, s-so you mus-t say it Right!
Th-then the binding. The soul of an innocent stranger. You say the name at the end of the incantation and then must kill them AND only them within an hour of starting, or..or they will become impatient. Once the subject is dead the blood will flash bright blue and the light will transfer into the object. Once this is done. The process is complete."
Horcrux.
Gellert understood little of what was written in the book. But that passage had stood out, as had the word Horcux.Soul magic was something even he had been wary of tampering with. It was the most taboo magic possible, the darkest most vile thing a magic user could attempt. After all if creating Horcruxes was easy then every Dark Lord would do it. The magic within every living thing came from its soul, the magic itself was pure you see. It was up to the individual themselves what they did with it. Even his magic was still technically pure despite his many misdeeds.
Grindelwald stood from the chair and pocketed the book. He rubbed at his tired face and sighed. He could see why Albus was so scared of Tom Riddle, for had he made even a single Horcrux, the damage to his soul, to his magic, would be tremendous. To carve ones own soul into pieces...He shook his head. He had found his catalyst.
With a grimace Gellert disappeared with a crack.
Albus was overlooking the budget for feeding the citizens living inside the castle. Professor Sprout and her assistant Mr Longbottom had informed him that with several new births in the last four months more resources would be needed to maintain the correct amount of food for all. Though Mr Longbottom had added to the end of the letter in a small hastily written postscript that he had no doubt Pomona had not seen, should no more food be possible to acquire he was more than willing to take less food himself, if it would help the new children.
He smiled at that. Neville was such a kind soul, always had been...
Albus trailed off, he heard a noise on his right, he turned to inspect it.
An ornate Orb sat under his windowsill was flashing a dull orange, meaning someone from the International Confederation of Wizards was requesting a meeting. Moving to the windowsill which held may of his trinkets Albus inspected the humming orb. He placed his hand over it and the name echoed around his skull. Grindelwald, Austria-Hungry, Pawsein.
He frowned in confusion. 'how as he..' Albus removed his hand hastily as though he had been burnt, and stood back from the table. He wasn't sure how he'd expected Gellert to contact him again, nor had to expected it to be so soon. But to hijack the internal ICW meeting orbs?
He shook his head. It was useless to keep him waiting, so with a swift whistle Fawkes landed on his shoulder and in a burst of flame they were both gone.
Dumbledore reappeared on a pristine green hillside. While the message had referred to the village of Pawesin itself there was no doubt where Grindelwald had meant to meet.
"Evening Albus."
The Austrian was stood mere meters away from him, clearly expecting his arrival. The matted beard had been cut and his hair tied back from his face. Gellert wore his usual long coat, which had become his trademark during the days before the outbreak of war, when he had still been just a rising star in international politics. The scales of the brown dragon hide glittered in the starlight. He was straight backed and proud, if not for the white hair and age lines across his face it was hard to tell he'd spend half a century in prison.
"You've cleaned up Gellert, Prison agreed with you" He finally remarked.
Grindelwald smirked. "You always did appreciate it, Albus."
Dumbledore coughed. Unwilling to re-enter those discussions once again.
"How did you manage to contact me? The ICW, while hard pressed, is still just as secure as ever." he asked.
Gellert scoffed at him. "And still just as incompetent as ever. They never removed Austria-Hungry as a listed member, nor I as its representative. No need to remove a dead nation hmm? The fools"
He shook his head and continued.
"In any case I found our catalyst. A botched Horcrux creation ritual."
Albus felt his blood run cold. He had suspected Tom had created a Horcrux yes, perhaps several even. But to mess up the ritual itself... he listened as Gellert went on.
"The diary I found was filled with madness. But one passage did stand out. It claimed that one must only kill the intended target for the ritual to work, or the consequence would be that 'they' would take 'more'. The 'more' in question I presume would be soul fragments. Though the only thing I'm sure off is that I most certainly do not wish to meet the 'they' the man refers to." he finished with a shudder. Grindelwald saw the ashen face of his companion and started to pace.
"The mistake your Tom Riddle made was growing too arrogant with his blatant disregard for soul magic, influenced no doubt by his non-magical upbringing and total lack of understanding. For him to grow so bold would imply he was very familer with the process of the ritual. A familiarity which only comes from practised repetition. Perhaps he desired a stronger horcux powered by the souls of three powerful people, maybe he simply failed to head the warnings of the manuscript he found. Nevertheless instead of one soul, he claimed three. This punishment outlined in the book, along with the reasons he discussed in my cell, created a perfect magical storm which kept both the Potter boy alive and prolonged what ever torture Tom endured for his disobeying."
He stopped his brainstorming and turned to Albus.
"Any input?"
Swallowing Dumbledore replied. "I have reason to believe you are correct yes, about the creation of several Horcrux vessels. Seven in fact."
Gellert took a step back, aghast.
"se-seven. My God." His eyes wild with horror. "I only thought his practice would have included two or perhaps three attempts at the ritual. But six completed previous times. Including however much more these mysterious beings referred to took for his disobeying, on top of the horrendous pain of being a disembodied soul..."
He blew out a harsh breath.
"I'd be surprised if this Riddle has any more soul remaining, more likely anything that was left of Tom Riddle is long gone, leaving only this twisted Voldermort madness remaining in his place."
They were silent for a time,contemplating the new information. Albus looked at the tree on their right. An old Oak that looked around five hundred years old, judging by its thickness. Its bark beginning to chip and crack with the strain, its leaving falling leaving the branches bare. A herald for the approaching winter.
'But my Winter as already arrived. And I fear it may have no end.' Albus thought. He remembered the little boy he'd met at the orphanage. He had been frightened,though he hid it well. Scared to see there were more like him, more with powerful abilities he didn't truly understand. If only he'd shepherded the child from the start, guiding him on the right path. If only he'd taken the young Tom under his wing, his ability in transfiguration was apparent from his first year, he could become the Defense against the dark arts Professor like he'd always wanted...
If only he had seen the monster within him sooner, if only he'd acted when poor Myrtle had died.
If only he'd killed the child then.
Dumbledore shook his head to clear his thoughts. He was spending too much time listening to Gellert if he was thinking like that again.
Grindelwald drew the Elder wand and addressed him.
"The wand grows confused I think Albus." He smiled. "In the presence of two of its masters in the location it changed hands. I can feel the power coursing through the deathstick even though I am channelling none."
He chuckled. "Never mind though old friend. Do you any leads on the Potter boy?"
"None" Albus replied disappointed. "I've tried to look myself, to ask whatever contacts I've left to me. But he and Black disappeared like smoke in a breeze."
"Do you believe he is Alive?" The Austrian asked, curious.
Albus turned away from the tree and stared at him.
"I can only hope Gellert."
Harry was panting with his hands on his knees. He had taken his anger out on Sirius during their daily duels. The Dog in question was stunned in a slump in the corner of their basement.
Standing up straight he blew out a harsh breath as he stared down at his Godfather. He couldn't see why he hadn't told him the whole story from the start. To hide the reason for his parents death from him was almost unforgivable. But, Sirius was the only family Harry had in the world, and even if that turned out to be a lie, he had saved him from number four. And for that he would do anything for him.
He aimed his wand at him.
"Rennervate"
Padfoot jerked awake with a jolt and quickly transformed back into a Human
"Wha-a where-" He turned his head wildly and finally his eyes landed on Harry's blank face.
"Damn. You got me again." he muttered.
"Get up old man, we're done for the day." Harry told him.
Sirius moved towards the stairs, looking over at Harry cautiously as he did so.
Harry was still hugely pissed at him of course, but at least all the training made more sense now. He had forgiven Sirius two days ago really He flicked his wand at his godfather and the stinging hex caught him just below his arse. Sirius yelped and tripped up the last few stairs to get away from him.
Harry smirked. Forgiven him yes. But he didn't need to know that just yet.
Once the pair had sat back down for dinner a few hours Harry asked.
"My fame, is that why we never got the Daily Prophet?"
"It played a part sure" he shrugged. "Well that and the fact it's a steaming pile of thestral shit. Not to mention how obvious it would look if some house in Greece suddenly started asking for British papers."
"alright alright I get it, I'm thick." Harry muttered unhappily.
"As a castle wall Potter." Padfoot smirked.
"Watch it Black, don't make me drag you back down there so I can beat you bloody again.
Sirius held his hands up in surrender still smirking.
The owl delivering the Oracle flew threw the window and landed on the table, knocking Sirius's drink off and smashing it on the floor.
"I think we call that Karma Pad's" Harry said as he paid the bird and collected the paper.
He unfolded it and straightened it with a flourish.
"YOU-KNOW-WHO BREAKS CHANNEL DEFENSES. DEATH EATERS STREAM INTO FRANCE."
"BLUCHER ARCHIVES MASSACRE! MORE ON PAGE 6."
Sirius tried looking over at the paper.
"Any news?"
Sighing Harry chucked the paper at him.
"Only bad news I'm afraid"
Sirius read the headline and grimaced.
"It was only a matter of time I suppose. No matter how great the defenses were they were only going to last until Voldemort himself came to deal with them personally."
"It means he's one country closer to us." Harry pointed out.
"Aye, well I guess he's actually got to conquer France first. But yeah he's closer. But what are we going to do about it?" He sighed.
"Ever we try and move away from him and into the Ottoman lands in the middle east, but we'd stick out like a hexed Broom there. Two white Brits in the desert? May as well paint a bulls eye on our roof. Or we could just stay here and pray to Merlin he doesn't find us. Who knows maybe he's forgotten the Prophesy and you altogether after all these decades." He finished with a desperate look on his face.
Harry couldn't believe what he was hearing. Running away...
"I never pegged you for a coward Padfoot." Harry fumed. Without giving his godfather a chance to respond he continued. "Run away? Stay here and cower like rats? How about we stand the Fuck up and do something Sirius? Our home is under the heel of a psychotic madman and we both know I'm the only person who can stop him. Sure he'd butcher me in a one-one" he cut Sirius's reply off. "But surely all the training you've been giving me on Auror tactics and spells had to be for something Padfoot. We can at least try to help. If you would like to hide were for the rest of your life then be my guess. But I am going to help stop Voldemort Sirius. I am going to try and reclaim our HOME." Harry finished with a yell.
Sirius just sat there staring at him. Looking almost in shock at his godson.
"Well?" Harry finally asked.
Sirius swallowed.
"You know Harry. Sometimes I look at you and I can only think of James. The way you look, the way you move, the way you duel." He smiled sadly. "Sometimes I get so wrapped up in my Brother I forget. You're heart's all Lily."
Somewhat stunned out of his anger Harry looked at his godfather. Suddenly however Sirius rose from the table, leaving his food.
"Come on then Harry. The rooms would pack themselves." he paused. "Though I suppose they could really..."
"We-were are we going?" Harry managed to get out.
Sirius smiled.
"Like you said Harry. It's time to go Home, I wonder if I took the Black Lordship Mother would die a second time in hell..." He trailed off as he assented the stairs.
As Harry sat alone in the dinning room, all silence aside from the dripping of Sirius's smashed glass of apple juice. He couldn't help but think he'd just been tested.