Revised: 7/19/2019
AN: Such a long wait for the chapter and for that I apologize. My usual release date was over my vacation for the 4th and I was out of town for a week after that, not to mention I had next to nothing written before I left in the first place. Luckily this chapter came pretty quickly to me once I did get started writing and was finished within days. I think its pretty good considering the long gap but as usual let me know if you think otherwise and how I can improve.
Also I'll be able to get one more chapter out before I move for college, after which updates might slow down based on how busy I am for my first semester. I do enjoy writing this story so I doubt they will stop entirely, just don't expect them as frequent (yeah right!) as they were before.
Harry sat with a hint of impatience as Dumbledore examined the gold locket with nearly a dozen intricate wand motions that were, frankly, beyond the young wizard's understanding. Fleur, on the other hand, seemed to recognize some and memorize others if her narrowed eyes were anything to judge by. Nym was leaning casually against the wall near the door of the small room, giving the appearance of an uninterested bystander, but she was anything but, as demonstrated by the subtle twitching of her wand hand. The witch was primed and ready to leap into action at a moment's notice.
The wizened headmaster had arrived quite swiftly through Grimmauld Place's floo after being hailed by Sirius at Harry's request, immediately and effortlessly taking charge with naught but his commanding presence. Ron was quickly ushered towards Madam Pomphrey who had slipped in behind the headmaster through the fireplace, where the practiced mediwitch began running various diagnostic charms in an effort to determine any adverse effects from whatever the cursed locket had done to the boy. Hermione and the members of the redhead's family present at the time, hovered at a respectable distance, worried for the boy but hesitant to interrupt the matron's work.
Which left Sirius, who was more than a little perturbed at being told to wait with the Weasleys while Dumbledore spoke with Harry and the girls alone. Relenting only after his godson motioned for him to listen to the Headmaster for the time being.
Harry wouldn't normally have agreed with the request, but was certain of one particular topic Dumbledore would want to discuss, and despite the implicit trust Harry had for his Godfather, he had a feeling the headmaster would be more reluctant to share what he knew if there was a larger audience. Harry assumed the man would feel the same about Fleur and Tonks had they not already been privy to everything he knew himself as it was obvious by this point that they held no secrets from one another.
"So? What's the verdict, doc?" Tonks drawled from her perch by the door.
The man in question finished one last charm before letting the locket settle back on the table top, deceptively ordinary in its appearance. He appeared to ponder the question for a moment, eyebrows furrowed in thought before turning to the three. "Have you any idea of what we've stumbled upon here, Harry?" he said rather than answer Nym's question.
"I thought we'd been over this before sir," Harry said calmly, "answering a question with a question just to keep as much information to yourself isn't going to get us anywhere." Harry narrowed his gaze a bit and Dumbledore at least had the decency to look a bit chagrined. "That being said, for the sake of saving time I'll admit we've had an idea of what these abominations are ever since the mishap I mentioned a couple days ago."
"Very well, my boy," he conceded, his whole body wilting as though parting with the information was leeching his very life force. "I had hoped to keep you shielded from such terrors, but as you've very obviously discovered, Voldemort, though at the time he may still have been going by Tom Riddle, felt it necessary in his pursuit of true immortality to create a horcrux."
"A horcrux, sir?" Harry cut in, a hint of irritation slipping into his tone.
"At first," Dumbledore conceded, "but as you so adamantly suggest, one failsafe was not nearly enough security for Tom, considering how paranoid the young man had grown by this point in his life." The next part was whispered almost inaudibly. "Incidentally, that is one of the most likely reasons your parents were targeted that fateful night."
"C'mon, old man, enough with the riddles, we have enough of them to deal with as it is," Nym growled from the corner. "Let me take a guess. It has something to do with why you've been sticking order members outside of the department of mysteries for the last week?"
Dumbledore's expression did not change, however his lack of a response was answer enough. Though after all this time Harry was unsure of why the man was still so reluctant to part with information. Perhaps Albus had played his part for so long he's just physically incapable of breaking the habit. Regardless, it was clearly important if it was worth guarding at such a crucial point.
"Sirius mentioned a weapon," Harry hedged, "does this have anything to do with that? Is Riddle still after it?"
Dumbledore gave a heavy sigh, deflating even further and for once looking his one hundred and fifty years. "There was a prophecy," the man began. "that spoke of the downfall of the dark lord…"
oooOoOoOooo
The silence of the room was deafening as the trio processed what Dumbledore had just revealed to them. His two life partners moved to embrace him in support, Fleur gluing herself to his side and Nym squeezing in between the two as wrapping an arm over would be impractical due to her current height.
"Zis changes nothing mon amour," Fleur murmured comfortingly, her breath tickling his ear.
"She's right, you know," Nym added, "The madman was after you for as long as we can remember, now we just know why."
Harry nodded tiredly, acknowledging both of their points as valid. It really wasn't the threat of Voldemort that was weighing him down currently, more so the implications of Dumbledore's explanation. He said as much, eyeing the old man indirectly responsible for so many of the tragedies of his life.
"I'm not sure what's more disappointing," Harry sighed, "Riddle actually taking divination seriously, or you, practically giving up on taking out the threat yourself once some crackpot dubbed me the slayer of the dark lord."
"Not that offing the bastard would have worked anyway," Nym added. Harry nodded, acknowledging her point. He separated himself from the two to flop into one of the open chairs of the simple table set.
"For neither can live while the other survives," he quoted softly. Harry fixed Dumbledore with a stare. "That could have several meanings, but after recent events I have an idea of what you thought it was referring to." He sighed, trailing a finger over the remains of his scar, nearly invisible in its current state. "Whether that was true or not, I can happily say we'll never know, the soul shard up here is long gone."
Harry narrowed his eyes at the old wizard still seated at the table, keeping an ample distance from the innocent looking locket lying in front of him. "Do I even want to know what you had planned to get rid of it, old man?" Harry probed with a slight snarl.
Dumbledore sighed for perhaps the tenth time in the last twenty minutes, "I had hoped to find a way to safely remove the curse from your scar, but every source I'd uncovered over the years was quite consistent in its information: to destroy a horcrux, the container itself must be obliterated beyond repair."
"And yet!" Fleur cut in furiously, "as terrifying it was for us, and as painful as it was for Harry, a simple vision correction ritual was clearly enough to dislodge 'ze soul piece." She stood fuming, arms propping up her lithe figure as she leaned aggressively over the table, sneering at the older wizard. Harry laid a calming hand at the small of her back before speaking to Dumbledore once more.
"I have no doubt that you were searching for a solution, headmaster, but you placed way too much faith in the prophecy. I'm assuming that despite your efforts, you subconsciously believed that I was destined to face the dark lord in the end, eliminating the final horcrux it the process. You were probably hesitant to experiment with other solutions with that in the back of your mind, am I correct?"
"Perhaps you are my boy," the man admitted, examining the light glinting off the many facets of the carved locket. "In hindsight, it seems that your scar was never a true horcrux, whether due to the last vestiges of Voldemort's soul not being powerful enough to contain the ritual magic, or the ritual itself never being completed, your scar was naught but a pale imitation of these monstrosities," he finished, gesturing with his wand towards the glinting locket.
"Thank Merlin for small mercies," Harry huffed, before turning his attention to the locket itself. "I'm tired of all this shit, we can agree that you haven't made the best choices with regards to my health. How're we 'gonna deal with this bad boy," he said indicating the locket, "From our research 'destroy the container' is pretty constant, but stabbing it with a basilisk fang can't be the only way."
Dumbledore nodded thoughtfully, finally back in his element of an educator. "Disregarding its partial sentience, A horcrux's defense is twofold," he started, taking on a lecturing tone. "First, for as long as the object containing a horcrux remains intact, it will last eternally, while the soul piece itself is constantly guarding the object. It is quite simple in theory, yet no less effective. "It was not the fang itself that destroyed Riddle's diary, but the magically corrosive properties of the venom that ate through the protection while simultaneously destroying the object itself."
The man paused to gauge the reactions from his younger charges, seemingly impressed at how quickly the seemed to be processing the information.
"I can 'zink of very few 'zings 'zat would act in such a way," Fleur mused, "but from what 'Arry 'as said of 'is second year, we still 'ave access to 'ze basilisk remains, non?"
"You are correct, Miss Delacour, though I believe you all have encountered another such method fairly recently," he hedged, looking an answer as if this were a simple classroom lesson. Nym indulged him, as childish as it seemed at the moment.
"The fiendfyre?"
"Correct, Miss Tonks," he praised, "I assume the killing curse would suffice in a pinch as well, though I abhor the thought of any of you lowering yourselves to such a level."
"I'm not sure if any of us are even capable of casting the killing curse, but I won't disregard that option just to keep the moral high ground," Harry insisted.
"I pray it never comes to that," he acknowledged. Harry wasn't quite satisfied with that answer, but dropped the issue for the time being. "Fortunately we have a significantly more practical option at the moment. The sword of Gryffindor which was presented to you at such an opportune moment," he paused dramatically, that irritating twinkle back in his eye once more, "has the unique property of amalgamating that which would strengthen it."
"Meaning it would have the properties of basilisk venom by this point?" Harry cut in, immediately grasping the point the older wizard was trying to make, despite his theatrics.
Dumbledore nodded, pleased at his deduction, before calling out, "Fawkes, if you would be so kind as to—"
The customary bloom of iridescent orange and red flame signaled the arrival of the Headmaster's avian companion.
"A warning next time would be appreciated sir," Harry breathed out as he blinked away the bright spots obscuring his vision.
"Ah, but that would require me to be privy to Fawkes' antics beforehand my boy, which I assure you is not the case. Though by this point I should be quite used to it, no?" He amended with a fond smile as he gently stroked the crown feathers of the magnificent phoenix.
Harry noted the ornate wooden case clutched in Fawkes' talons that he had missed earlier due to the bird's dramatic entrance. Within, glinted the equally impressive ancestral sword of Gryffindor, looking just as pristine as it had that day so many years previously, not that he had spent much time examining it at the time.
Dumbledore opened the case and carefully lifted the weapon out by its ruby-encrusted hilt, handling it with a dexterity that belied his age. After seeming to examine the blade for a moment, the man turned to Harry himself holding out the blade hilt first, and supporting the blade with a conjured cloth to avoid touching the toxic substance itself. "I know it does not forgive the loss of so many experiences every child deserves Harry, but perhaps you would prefer to make this strike yourself?" Dumbledore said softly, the look in his eye proving his sincerity.
Harry wordlessly grasped the hilt, its weight and shape significantly more comfortable in his hand now than at age fourteen. For the first time since Dumbledore had entered the room, the locket showed signs of life, quivering in place, as though it sensed its final moments coming to an end.
As Harry paced closer the vibrating locket grew even more agitated, the violent rattling echoing throughout the tiny room, before he finally paused a comfortable distance away, raising the sword in a two handed grip as if preparing to stake a flag in conquered territory.
He hoped Riddle appreciated the dramatic irony.
Harry only hade a brief moment to appreciate the humorous thought before the gold locket sprung open releasing a billowing cloud of oddly translucent vapor accompanied by the beginnings of the sibilant whisper of an all too familiar voice.
However, neither the smoke nor the voice had the opportunity to take shape or form intelligible speech as the glinting blade fell through the air like a guillotine, striking true with a metallic clang that echoed throughout the small room. The telltale tapping sound of the locket falling to the ground was barely audible over the haunting wail given by the piece of Riddle's soul as it finally broke free of it's shackle to the mortal plane after so long.
Eventually the smoke swirling in agitation slowed, the volume of the pained screams waning as well until all was still once more.
Harry waited a moment before removing the localized shield charm he had reflexively thrown up at the first sign of danger. Fleur and Nym stepped out from behind him as he did so, resting a hand over his shoulder with a grateful smile before turning back to Dumbledore, all business once more.
The Headmaster himself had a particularly somber expression gracing his weathered face, clearly somewhat shaken from witnessing the destruction of what was once a part of possibly his most brilliant student.
"Soo… what now?" Tonks said as tactfully as usual.
Harry sighed fondly before answering. "That depends," he started, turning questioningly to Dumbledore, "do you know how many he made?"
The question of who 'he' was, was obvious enough as made evident by the man's prompt response.
"Tom Riddle has pushed the boundaries of magic further than any before him, of that there is no arguing. I've not heard of someone creating multiple horcruxes before, and as such, he may run into unforeseen complications, some of which have already been made quite evident," he added, reaching out as if to brush over Harry's scar. Luckily for the man there was still a decent amount of space between them and he never came close to actually touching the younger wizard's forehead. Though whether due to a newfound respect of personal space or a sense of self-preservation, Harry was unsure. Witches and wizards had certainly shown less restraint in the past when it came to the spectacle his scar had become. Harry for one was quite glad to be rid of it.
"So you do not know for sure, Monsieur Dumbledore?" Fleur cut in, filtering the man's penchant for verbal riddles.
"Quite, Miss Delacour," the man in question smiled, "Though I do have a lead on someone who may have an idea, though he has been quite difficult to get ahold of lately. Considering I am once more at a loss for Defense teachers this term, I simply don't have the time currently to chase around an old colleague." Seeing that Harry was about to protest he held up a hand to forestall any complaints. "I understand more than anyone the severity of that information and will not cease my search for it, but for now I have other responsibilities, as do you if I'm not mistaken."
"The trial's a farce and you know it," Harry said bitingly, though his ire was not directed at the old man but the situation in general. "Don't worry about that though, we've got all the evidence we need to clear my name and more, it shouldn't be a problem."
Dumbledore bobbed his head thoughtfully, "Very well, Harry, I've made the mistake of underestimating your independence before, I shall strive to not repeat such a mistake. I will perhaps be there in my official capacity, however other than that, you will be on your own."
Harry nodded gratefully, before wrapping an arm around Nym and Fleur's waists, "not quite alone sir."
Dumbledore's answering smile was brighter this time. "Indeed!" he paused, summoning the twisted metal debris littering the floor, all of which immediately raced into his open hand, the enchantments preventing summoning having been broken by the venom laced blade of the sword still hanging from Harry's grip. The young wizard passed over the blade as Dumbledore strode towards the doorway. Fawkes flashed the sword away in a blaze as his companion disabled the sophisticated locking enchantment he had erected over the door. As he moved to strip that last of the enchantment away Fleur spoke up once more.
"Pardon me, Monsieur," she said, causing the man to pause and turn curiously. "'Zis is an unrelated matter, but while you are 'ere I figured why not ask." She paused, glancing towards Harry nervously before turning back to the headmaster. "Well I 'ad originally come to Britain for a bit of space away from home, as well as to pursue an enchanting mastery. Such a career is usual done through an apprenticeship, but in recent years, personal projects and self-study have also become viable methods. I guess what I'm asking is permission to ask several of your teachers to surpervise some of my projects while I work towards my mastery. I'd perform any work they needed me for to offset the time I'd take up of course." She said brightly, tacking that last tidbit on the end for a little extra incentive.
Dumbledore seemed to ponder the situation for a moment before answering. "I assume your reason for wanted to live at Hogwarts is purely academic yes?" He asked innocently, chuckling lightly when he managed to get a blush out of the normally unflappable veela. "As long as you speak to each professor you wish to aide you I don't see a problem with it. There are many suites throughout the castle that remain unused to due to decreasing class and staff sizes. I'm sure the house elves would be happy to clear out a space for you.
"Thank you, Professor," she said happily, dipping her head in thanks sending her silvery locks tumbling.
"It's quite alright Miss Delacour, hopefully, if all is well, we will not see each other until the trial. Until then, good luck." He paused at the door once more, "Oh my, I'd almost forgotten, Happy birthday, Harry." Dumbledore pulled a package from within his robes, around the size of the sorcerer stone and wrapped in a similar manner to the package all those years ago. But alas, the stone was gone, and even if it wasn't, Harry doubted the man was far enough gone to gift such a priceless artifact to a seventeen-year-old wizard.
He took his eyes off of the unassuming package to thank the man only to find him gone, door closed, and the room definitely not looking like it had been the home of a bastardized exorcism just minutes previously.
"You sneaky bitch!" a voice broke Harry out of his musings and brought his attention to the comedic sight of Nym wrapped around Fleur like a backpack squeezing the taller woman's cheeks teasingly. "You just bought yourself practically an entire year with the stud-who-lived to yourself!" Fleur yelped as the older witch got a bit more handsy. "Taaaaake meee with youuuu!" Nym cried pleadingly.
"You will 'ave to figure out a way to get in yourself, Nym, I doubt Dumbledore will believe that you would lower yourself to being my assistant," Fleur giggled, trying and failing to act haughty over the situation. "You heard he needed a Defense instructor non? Why not 'zat?"
"No way! Teaching is 90% grading papers, McGonagall just never bitches about it around her students," she snickered before pausing, a devious grin splitting her face. "Oh, that'll do nicely," the witch muttered to herself, rubbing her hands together comically.
Fleur sighed, turning to her lover only to find the man in question looking stupefied as he mouthed 'the stud who lived?' to himself.
Fleur merely looked to the heavens as if they held the key to understanding her capricious partners.
They didn't.
oooOoOoOooo
Harry, Nym and Fleur returned to find the occupants of the main dining room in an uproar. He briefly caught the flicker of Dumbledore's flamboyant blue cloak as he swept out of the room towards the front door somehow avoiding the cacophony of voices filling the area.
If only he could be so lucky.
Sirius made his way over to the trio, blatantly ignoring the Weasley matriarch attempting to talk his ear off. From what Harry could decipher, Molly was upset that that one of her precious children had come across such a 'dark' artifact in his house.
The obvious flaws with her line of thought were numerous, but the woman was obviously beyond being reasoned with, so Harry took a hands off approach, addressing his godfather as he finally stopped in from of them, a look of concern on his face.
"I know you're curious about what that was all about, Sirius, but this is neither the time nor the place to discuss it," Harry said, holding up a hand to forestall any questions for the time being.
Sirius scrutinized the younger wizard for a moment before nodding, satisfied that he was both unharmed and emotionally sound.
"'Ow is Ronald fairing," Fleur questioned for lack of a better topic.
"Physically? Fine, fit as a fiddle. Mentally however…" Sirius paused in thought, "you don't just bounce back from something as serious as possession," he explained. "Ginny took him away to talk the minute Poppy gave him the ok, I understand the young lady went through something similar in the past?" He said, phrasing it as a question and getting confirming nods from his godson.
Harry shouldn't have been surprised that Ginny had immediately thought to aide her brother considering how horrible her very first year at Hogwarts had been. In fact, thinking back on it, the young witch had bounced back incredibly well, all things considered. Harry himself had his own collection of problems to focus on so he was never really aware of how his admirer had recovered from the ordeal. He briefly remembered Ron mentioning how much Ginny adored her older brother Bill and how the older wizard was a huge help when the family visited him in Egypt the summer following the incident with the chamber. There was a different dynamic between the two youngest Weasleys for sure, but hopefully she could make up for it with the shared experience. Either way, for the moment Ron was in good hands, and he was certainly more comfortable than if he was being smothered by his mother.
Speaking of the woman, she had finally managed to get Sirius's attention and definitely not putting it to waste. After a moment the man's patience finally ran out.
"Molly, be quiet please! I can assure you with the utmost sincerity that I'm upset that a friend of Harry's was harmed in my home." He only raised his voice slightly, but his tone was enough to leave the Weasley matron reeling. Sirius paused before pressing on to take advantage of the silence. "However, I'll remind you that I was never in favor of having the kids cleaning out this dump, I've been very up front about all the twisted shit my family got up to. It was you that insisted that keeping them busy was for the best, please do not presume to blame me for this situation that could have been avoided entirely if we had just taken up Harry's offer of sharing his house elf to do the work."
"That offer still stands, of course," Harry cut in quietly. "In fact, taking recent events into account I'd feel much more comfortable having Dobby at least supervise, if not do the job himself."
"Well… I don't know…" the woman seemed close to accepting, only need a bit of a push.
"You can still cook alls da meals Missus Weasel!" Dobby added, popping into existence beside his master to his and the girls' amusement.
"Well alright, bu—"
"It'll be spotless in a week!" Dobby squeaked, cutting over any protest she was about to make and popping away once more.
"Can't argue with the little bugger," Nym scoffed, "wont even let me do my own laundry anymore."
Harry just chuckled taking Fleur and Nym by the hand and pulling them lightly to the basement stairs. A quick workout was just what he needed to destress after such an eventful breakfast.
Not enough to wear him out though. Harry didn't like to presume, but it was his birthday, and he certainly had some idea of what he'd like to be doing come night time.
By the girls' matching grins, he wouldn't be disappointed.
The rest of Harry's birthday was blessedly uneventful. After getting a bit of spellwork in he spent the rest of the day lazing around the library with Nym and Fleur, joined by Hermione after a half hour or so. The Black library, which once gave off the vibe of clinical academics was now a bit more comfortable with it's slightly expanded space and added furniture, courtesy of Fleur's runework. Such an expansion would not hold for any significant length of time due to all the enchantments already saturating the old manor, but for the rest of the summer they would have a place to relax while they studied.
Molly had calmed down enough by dinnertime to deliver her usual quality of meal. That is to say it was fit to feed an army, or the Weasley clan. Though Ron, despite attending the meal, did not eat with his usual gusto, understandable all things considered. He did however converse quietly with his sister every once in a while.
Much cheer was had despite the less than stellar morning and Harry was pleased with all the gifts he had accumulated by the end of the night. Molly's fantastic homemade treacle tart was even better than the stuff they had at Hogwarts sometimes, and Fred and George made sure he was stocked full of both prototype products as well as those ready for the general public. Harry imagined some of those gifts were more for him to pass on to Fleur for ideas but it was the thought that counted.
Ron had passed over a package of zonkos sweets over with a tentative smile which Harry returned wholeheartedly. It would be absurd to hold him responsible for anything said while he was effected by the horcrux. Harry had personal experience with the kind of insidious thoughts such an artifact could plant in one's head, and his friend had been perfectly polite before then.
Hermione's gift of a fully interactive magical text meant to aide with learning French was much appreciated despite her and Fleur giggling madly as he butchered the pronunciation of the few phrases he had tried at their insistence.
"We will 'elp you practice love, it would not do to 'ave you greet my parents with such an 'orrible accent," Fleur managed through her snickers.
And wasn't that a sobering thought. Harry meeting the parent of his lovers was always an abstract concept, but considering how serious his relationship had gotten, it was only a matter of time now. He reeled at the thought of explaining their unique partnership to anyone, let alone their parents. Fleur's mother being a veela may make the conversation much easier on that front, but everything he'd heard about Andromeda Tonks pointed towards that one being not quite as simple.
Oh well, there was no sense in worrying about it until the time came.
Remus, who had unfortunately been held up with his work for the order, sent his regards via a letter delivered along with a couple photos back from his Hogwarts days. Sirius had handed over his own collection of photos along with Remus'.This was a treat he hadn't expected as most of them included some or all of the marauders, the images that were distinctly showing their sixth and seventh years even included a couple of his mother. Though there was a distinct lack of Pettigrew among them for obvious reasons. Harry hoped he could thank the man in person soon, as despite not agreeing with all of his choices in life, he was still a close friend and deserved that gratitude.
Soon the impromptu party wound down as the table's various occupants left to sleep off the feast and birthday cake. Harry took his leave as well, followed by Nym and Fleur as they retired for bed.
"We had one more gift to give you, stud," Nym spoke up as the approached their shared room.
"Oh yeah? What ever could it be?" he smiled innocently.
"Don't get cocky, loverboy," she smirked, "by the end of tonight we'll have you eating out of the palm of our hands."
"As if I don't already," he laughed lightly.
"Good answer, 'Arry, I believe it deserves a reward," Fleur whispered before slipping sensually into the room, dragging him along.
"Happy birthday to me," he muttered with a grin.
Both of their answering laughs were music to his ears.