Witching Hour
"Good night, Poppy." Harper gave her foster mother her best fake smile from her bed.
"Good night, Dear. You get some rest. Things will look better in the morning." Poppy slipped her wand out and banished the light then left, closing the door behind her.
Harper waited a second to be sure she was gone then gripped her pillow tightly. Finally, she was alone. Poppy wasn't so bad, but the kindly nurse had almost undone her with her concern. Harper had gotten through the day on autopilot, doing what had to be done: catch the cobra, take it to Kettleburn, lie about it, face the Slytherins, lie some more, get told how great it was to be a parselmouth, lie about it, get complimented by Draco, lie and hide. Inside she'd been dead. She'd faced the basilisk and Voldemort running on desperation and adrenaline but after it had been over she'd just wanted to run away and cry.
Boys didn't cry. Harry Potter especially did not cry, and as far as anyone else knew she'd only been outed for being a parselmouth. However, she was a girl, and she needed to cry. That's what she'd done when dying from cancer in a previous life. She'd hold it in during the day and cry at night. Now the tears wouldn't flow. The pain burned like some kind of poison inside her. What had she been thinking? She could have been killed. Why was she doing this? She had a new life, a second chance to live. Why was she risking that by fighting basilisks and Voldemort? She had gold in her vault at Gringotts. She could clean out her vault and run away, far away. Maybe America. She was really an American after all, not a Britt, despite the way she spoke now. This wasn't her fight. Let the Britts defeat Voldemort. She could find some safe school for magic thousands of miles away.
People would die. Lots of innocent people would die. She was Harry Bloody Potter. She was the one who could kill Voldemort. Without her the muggle-born wizards would be rounded up like the Jews in Nazi Germany. How many muggle-borns were there in England? Thousands? The wizards who opposed Voldemort would be slaughtered. Thousands more. Then He-With-No-Nose would turn on the muggle world. How many? Plus those dying of cancer. Millions of them.
It had seemed like such an easy plan. Be Harry Potter, only do it better than Harry did. Use the fame she would gain to seize political power in Britain. Use that power to change the secrecy laws and save lives. Millions of lives a year lost to cancer. All those lives resting on her. Finally she felt her tears flowing, because she just didn't think she was strong enough. She'd psyched herself up to destroy Ravenclaw's diadem, and that hadn't been too bad. Today had been bad. Dead Quirrellmort and a dead basilisk. She could probably see thestrals now for all the good that did. Quirrel died. It could have so easily been her dead, maybe even Myrtle, too. She pretended, but she wasn't really Harry Potter. She was just plain old Harper Potts. She wasn't cut out to be a hero. She'd gotten lucky. Without Myrtle's help she would be dead. For that matter even if the plans went right, she still needed to die again. She was the final horcrux. Would she come back? She'd face death with dignity once, but she'd been sick then. The pain had been constant and death had been a friend. It was a lot different when her body was young and healthy.
The tears became a steady stream as she cried in the darkness about the unfairness of it all. She didn't want to die again. She didn't want to fight again. She did it only because she'd had to. The sight of Quirrellmort's legs dangling out of the basilisk's mouth remained horribly vivid in her mind. She wanted to quit. That could have been her. Thousands of wizards. Millions with cancer. She cried big sobs into her pillow until she cried herself to sleep.
"Harry. Harrryyy. Wake up, Harry," moaned Myrtle. "You promised to come talk to me tonight, but you didn't."
Harper didn't want to wake up. "Go away, Myrtle. I'm sleeping."
"Harry, you promised. You want me to keep my promises, don't'cha Harry?"
Harper groaned and looked about. Myrtle was little more than a glowing blur. She located her glasses and slipped them on. Myrtle snapped into focus. "Fine, I'm awake. What did you want to talk about?"
"You were going to tell me all about Perfect Prefect Tommy Riddle and how we're going to kill the murderer. You told me you have a plan. What is it? How do we kill him?"
Harper sighed. "What time is it Myrtle?"
"Midnight, of course, the witching hour, when all the ghosts come out to play. Would you prefer me to wait until the bell tolls one and discuss things with the Ghost of Christmas Past?"
Harper studied Myrtle suspiciously. "There aren't really ghosts of Christmas Past, Present and Future, are there?"
"Ickle Firsty!" chortled Myrtle. "I can't believe you bought that old one. No there aren't, but I will haunt you Harry Potter until the day you die. You made me promise to you, forged another shackle to hold me to this world. You owe me. We're going to kill him, remember?"
Harper nodded unhappily. She didn't feel as bad after crying herself to sleep and getting a few hours of rest, but her wonderful plan didn't sound so great any longer. However, she didn't have a lot of alternatives. "First, we have to destroy his horcruxes. There were five of them: his diary, the Gaunt family ring, the locket of Salazar Slytherin, the cup of Helga Hufflepuff, and the diadem of Ravenclaw." Plus Nagini in the future and last of all herself, the seventh horcrux. "I've destroyed one of them, the diadem of Ravenclaw. Now I'm going to tell you where all of them are hidden. Pay careful attention. If I die, go tell the Headmaster where they're hidden."
"The Gaunt family ring can be found at one of their old ancestral properties. It is guarded by wards, enchantments and a powerful curse. Tom's diary is currently in the possession of Lucius Malfoy. Slytherin's locket was hidden in a cave guarded by traps and inferni. However, it was stolen by Regulus Black and hidden in the House of Black. The cup of Helga Hufflepuff is in the vault of Bellatrix Lestrange under Gringotts." She took a breath and let it slowly. It was a relief to share that information. "I know of three sure ways to kill a horcrux. The first is Fiendfyre. The second is basilisk venom. I destroyed the diadem of Ravenclaw by having the basilisk bite it. The third requires a goblin-forged blade. A goblin-forged blade will absorb that which makes it stronger. Take a goblin-forged blade and soak it in basilisk venom and it can destroy a horcrux. I've done some reading and I suspect that Universal Solvent would also work, but honestly what little I read about that potion made it sound more dangerous than the other methods."
Myrtle was listening raptly to all of this information. "How do you know all this?"
Harper shook her head. "I know. That's all you need to know for now, Myrtle, but this is important. If you want him dead, don't tell anyone. If he discovers that we are hunting and destroying his horcruxes, he'll move them. Then we won't be able to find them ever again."
"I understand. I'll keep your secrets as I promised. Which horcrux did he make from my murder?"
"The diary, I think. Maybe Gaunt's ring. He didn't locate the other objects until years later."
"I think I'll know which one, when we find it. There was a reason that I didn't pass on. I never knew what it was, not until you told me that I was murdered. I haunted Olive Hornsby, but I knew that she wasn't the real reason. I just needed to hurt someone and she deserved it, but this is why I'm still here. This is what I have to fix. I can't move on until he's dead."
Ah hell, now she had to tell Myrtle the rest. "I left one out, Myrtle. Me. When he cursed me, he left a piece of me in here." She lifted her hair and showed her curse scar. "I'll have to die for him to pass on." There was a chance she'd live on, but really there were no guarantees were there?
"So we destroy all the others and then you off yourself?" Myrtle floated down and tried to give Harper a consoling pat, but her hand passed through Harper's body. "Don't worry about it too much. Being dead isn't so bad. You can come haunt my toilet with me. We're going to have to tell others. Not to be selfish about things, but you won't be able to kill him after you're dead. I can only struggle with him when he's in another body."
Harper shrugged. "I'll tell the Headmaster. Sometime soon. I'm not ready yet. You're my backup plan now in case anything happens to me, but tell me about how you fought him. I didn't think that was possible."
Myrtle settled down so it looked like she was sitting crosslegged on the bed, but she was actually floating a few inches above it. "Ghosts call it skin walking. You breathers call it possession. Any ghost can attempt it. It's easier to do on animals than people, but it is very tiring. Tom has a strange spirit. He's not a ghost, but I can fight him like I would another ghost. The basilisk was fighting him, too, so I had help."
"So you can possess people? I didn't know ghosts could do that. You said something about it not being allowed?"
"Oh, the Spirit Division takes a very dim view of possession. Most spells won't hurt a ghost, but the Bonerattlers who work for the S.D. know spells to control ghosts. They can torture us, trap us, banish us from places. As long as we 'behave' we're tolerated. If we put just one little spectral toe out of line, then we're classified as an impure spirit. Then they whip out the soul hooks and start ripping ectoplasm out in chunks." She shuddered. "I got a little taste of what they can do for haunting Olive Hornsby. I don't want to experience that again."
Alrighty then. This was new. "Do you think that those spells would work on Tom Riddle in his current state?" Could it be that easy? "Where would I find these spells?"
"They might." Myrtle got a sly look on her face. "Tell me how you know all that you've told me and I'll tell you where you can find the spells."
"Hey, I thought you wanted him dead!"
"I do! I want him dead, deader, deadest. Right now he's only partly dead. You're holding back on me. So… what is it? Do you want to know where to find the spells?"
"Fine, but this is a secret, and you gave your oath not to tell. I have dreams. Some of them are about things that haven't happened yet, but some of them are about him. That's how I know." She felt a bit guilty at not giving Myrtle the whole truth, but the whole truth wasn't very believable.
Myrtle tilted her head like a bird studying something. "So you're a seer of some sort then. I guess that explains some things. Does that mean if he moves them, then you can find them?"
Harper shook her head. "It doesn't work that way. So are you going to tell me about the spells."
"Fine, but keep it quiet. The other ghosts would hate me so much if they found out that I told a breather. There is a book, here at Hogwarts. It's in the restricted section. All the ghosts here know about it. It's called the Book of the Dead. Occasionally some sixth or seventh year gets their hands on it and starts bossing us ghosts around. Then we complain to the Ghost Council and they complain to the Headmaster and he puts a stop to it."
Harper had the feeling that it really couldn't be that easy to defeat Voldemort, but maybe he was vulnerable in his spirit state. "I need to get my hands on that book!"
Myrtle shrugged. "I can't help you there, but do you have a plan for destroying Tom's horcrux thingies?"
"I do. One of them I know from my dreams. Lucius Malfoy will give the diary to a Hogwarts student sometime soon. Usually it is a little red head girl." She didn't want to claim it was Ginny Weasley, because she'd noticed things had a habit of playing out with different people involved. I think that happens soon, either this year or next year. You can help there. Keep a watch on that sink. If someone besides me uses it, then they are possessed by the piece of Tom's soul in the diary. Get me immediately, we'll get the diary and destroy it."
Myrtle smiled. "Alright! That I can do. That's easy. I just have to haunt my toilet like I always do."
Harper liked this development. Myrtle had a role to play, and she had a backup set of eyes in case Lucius Malfoy gave the diary to someone besides Ginny Weasley.
"The other one is more complicated…" She explained about Peter Pettigrew being an animagus, how Sirius Black was innocent and if she exposed Peter, then she could save Sirius and get to the locket in the Black manor. "… I'll probably have to out myself to Dumbledore then at least about having dreams. I don't see any way around it, but I'm holding off until I can cast a good solid stunning spell. I'll need proof to show him or he won't believe me."
Myrtle looked skeptical. "What if you showed him the Chamber of Secrets and the dead basilisk. Wouldn't that be proof enough? Don't get me wrong, Harry. I'm on your side. I want Tom Riddle dead as much as you do. Even more, but you're just a kid, and I'm a ghost. We need help and Dumbledore is a powerful wizard."
Harper sighed. "I'm not ready to go to him yet. When I can stun Pettigrew, not before. I told you all of this, because you're my backup plan now. If anything happens to me, you can go tell Dumbledore. I trust you because you want Tom Riddle dead as much as I do."
"I shouldn't have given you that promise, but I did. I hope you know what you're doing, because if he kills you, I'll haunt you for your entire afterlife."
A/N: I made a wrong turn in writing on the way to this chapter. I didn't like the result and decided it should be cut from the story. Instead of just deleting it, I opened a new story for outtakes: story/story_edit_ ?storyid=9591657 Anything published in outtakes didn't happen in the story. In the case of Jade the characterization of Harper was off. Rather than rewrite the chapter I moved on to this chapter. I think Witching Hour is a better next chapter to Basilisk than Jade.
