Disclaimer I do not own Harry Potter and everything recognisable belongs to JK Rowling. Also this story is inspired by 'A Shattered Prophecy' by Project Dark Overlord.

I can't even begin to apologise. Time has just not been my friend lately. It runs away from me. Hope you all will forgive me and enjoy the next chapter. PTOYL will be updated in a few days. Enjoy!

Chapter Fifty Six

The days that followed Harry's departure were strange for not only Damien, but for Ron, Hermione and Ginny too. At first, they didn't know what to feel; saddened that Harry left without saying goodbye, or angry that he did so without as much as a thank you for looking after him. Truth was, secretly, all four were concerned about Harry. He hadn't fully recovered yet, from the Death Eater attack and from donating his core to James Potter, and now he was out there on his own. But there was very little they could do about that. Harry was gone and no matter how many messages and calls Damien made using the muggle mobile phone, he didn't get any answers.

Where Harry went and how he managed to stay hidden from the Death Eaters, none of them knew. Ron devised a way to occupy their worried minds – by continuing their investigation into Horcruxes. Hermione, who was usually the first to question Ron's motives, held her tongue. She knew why Ron wanted to keep searching for Horcruxes. His brother Bill was still in hospital, under heavy sedation as his body slowly repaired the damage done by Fenrir Greyback's fangs and claws. His parents and brothers were spending their days divided between home, work and sitting by Bill's side at the hospital. Fleur hadn't left Bill's side. It seemed finding a way to destroy Voldemort was the only way Ron could cope with what had happened to his family.

So with quiet determination, the four continued to meet at each other's houses, under the pretence of 'studying' and searched for clues about Voldemort's Horcruxes. It wasn't until their fourth week, without Harry, that they found something. Surprisingly, it wasn't in the books they had been scouring for information, but in that morning's Daily Prophet. They weren't even together, but in their respective homes, having breakfast at their tables, when they all saw the article published in the newspaper.

An exhibition was to be held at the famous Gallery of Magical Artefacts. Several pieces that held important historical significance for the wizarding community, were going to be on display. Listed amongst the items advertised to be on show at the exhibition, was Rowena Ravenclaw's Golden Quill. There was even a picture of it, sitting gleaming inside a glass showcase.

One look at it, and all four teens knew, without a shadow of a doubt – the Quill was a Horcrux. Seeing as Voldemort chose exceptional objects to house a piece of his soul, and the Quill belonged to a founder of Hogwarts, there was no way the Quill couldn't be one of Voldemort's seven Horcruxes.

Ron and Ginny shared a look, but didn't say anything as the rest of their family were at the table.

Hermione excused herself from her parents company and hurried down the hall to call Damien, her copy of the Daily Prophet clutched in her hands.

Damien sat at the table, thinking up an excuse to say to his parents that would get him to the Gallery on the night of the exhibition.

Many miles away, in a small rundown motel room, Harry stood before the wall – staring at the newspaper clipping he had just pinned next to all the other Horcrux clues. His sharp green eyes took in the picture of the Golden Quill and a faint smile crossed his lips. He held up a finger and slowly drew a cross in the air, marking the picture of the Quill with a red X.

xxx

On the night of the exhibition, the Gallery of Magical Artefacts was crowded with witches and wizards of all ages. There were quite a few young children running around, eager to try out the interactive spell games, while the older children were mesmerised by the ancient and lethal looking weapons used throughout the ages in many wizarding wars. The adults seemed happy enough to wander around the vast hall after their children, making small talk amongst themselves, and with the exhibition leaders.

Ron, Hermione, Ginny and Damien walked amongst the crowd, taking in their surroundings. The Gallery itself was a magnificent building, with its glass domed roof and solid gold pillars. Ron was impressed by the jewels that were embedded inside the walls, decorating them like a sparkling border.

They soon found what they had come for - the Golden Quill. It wasn't hard really, since it was situated in the middle of the Gallery. It was breathtakingly beautiful, made of pure solid gold, around five times the size of an average quill. It was rumoured that the ink it was sitting in was liquid gold. It stood proudly on display, encased in a glass jar.

"I don't get it," Ginny said quietly. "Isn't this dangerous? I mean for V- for him?" she caught herself in time. Saying the Dark Lord's name in a crowded space was a sure fire way of creating panic and chaos. "If the Quill really is a – you know what –then having it out on display is too risky, right? Wouldn't he protect it better?"

"Who says he's not protecting it?" Damien asked in return, glancing to the armed guards surrounding the Gallery. One guard in particular had his eyes annoyingly right on the Quill, and on anyone remotely close to it.

"It's just like the Cup," Hermione explained. "He does it on purpose – plants his special objects in places that have a lot of protection already in place. If anyone does manage to steal it, they most likely won't want to destroy it, since it's a priceless artefact." She turned to face Damien. "The Quill isn't just sitting here, ready for anyone to pick up. The Gallery has its security in place, and I bet you he has his charms protecting it too."

"I'm starting to question our plan," Ginny said. "I don't think it's going to be as simple as we thought.

"No one thought it was simple," Damien objected.

"The plan will work," Ron said, although his voice lacked it's earlier conviction. "We just have to wait for the right time."

"Suppose we do get to the Quill, what do we do with it?" Damien asked.

The four teens looked at each other, not having an answer. Truth was, they had next to no clue how to destroy a Horcrux. Harry had been the one to deal with Hufflepuff's Cup, and the Slytherin pendant he had worn in Hogwarts.

"Let's worry about that once we get to that stage," Ron said.

The four of them continued to look around the Gallery, discreetly noting the number of guards stationed around the hall. It was going to be impossible to steal anything and make a run for it. Thankfully, that was never part of their plan. They walked around the rest of the exhibition, until it was time for the Gallery to close.

Slowly, the visitors left the hall, exiting the Gallery through the main doors. The guards completed their usual checks, leaving most of the artefacts in their showcases. Finally the guards left, locking the doors behind them.

Inside the now darkened hall of the Gallery, Damien and Ginny came out from under the invisibility cloak. Ron and Hermione cancelled their disillusion charms so they were no longer camouflaged with the walls behind them. Nervously, they looked around their darkened surroundings. Everything had an eerie glow to it. Thin beams of different coloured lights criss-crossed each other, spells put in place to raise the alarm should one of them be interrupted.

The four shared a look, before grinning.

"It worked," Ginny said.

"You sound surprised," Damien said, pocketing his invisibility cloak.

"I kinda am," Ginny admitted. "That last guard almost walked right into us."

"Thankfully, he didn't," Ron said. "Now come on, I don't want to stick around here for longer than necessary."

They walked as far as they could, without crossing the beams of light. Damien pulled out a shrunken version of his Nimbus broomstick and in moments had restored it to its full size. He mounted the broom, smiled cheekily at the others, and zoomed up into the air. He raised himself to the very top of the ceiling and very carefully made his way across the glass roof. The multitude of lights came from a control box that was situated on a small platform, tucked away in one corner of the domed roof. Damien was careful not to let the passing lights touch him, otherwise the alarms would go off and they would all be in more trouble than they could imagine.

Using all the skills he had possessed as a Quidditch player, Damien expertly flew past the beams of light, not interrupting a single one and got to the control box. He climbed onto the platform, resting his broom to one side. He examined the control box. It had a small hole where the wand had to be inserted to switch the box on or off. There was only one wand that would work with the box, and Damien didn't have it, so he had to figure out another way to deactivate the sensor lights.

Damien took a deep breath and flipped open the black box. He carefully inserted a small plastic tube into the small hole. It started fizzing and in minutes the plastic tube had melted and was now lodged inside the hole. Damien then inserted his wand and turned it to the right, the lights clicked off at once. Damien smiled to himself and closed the box.

The plastic tube was another invention by Fred and George. It was called simply 'The Key' – a revolutionary product that was guaranteed to open any locked door. The plastic melted inside the lock and changed the shape, so that any key – or in this case wand – could be used to open the lock. The only drawback was that the melted plastic was so corrosive that it damaged the lock afterwards rendering it useless. "Something we're still working on," Fred had told him when Damien had inquired about it.

Ron and Ginny had smuggled a few samples of the Key to use them in today's mission. Damien removed as much residue of the melted plastic from the lock as he could, in an effort to cover his tracks.

Damien flew down to join the rest, grinning in victory.

"Well done." Ron patted him on the back. "Now all we gotta do, is take the Quill and get out of here."

"You make it sound like we just have to walk up to it and pick it up," Damien said, as they all moved to crowd around the glass care holding the Quill.

"I think Wingardium Leviosa would do the trick," Ron said. "I'll levitate the glass jar and Hermione, you pick up the Quill."

"No, it would probably set off an alarm if the jar was removed," Hermione said. "I think it would be better to pierce the glass somehow."

"How would we do that?" Ginny asked.

"I think Ron's idea is better," Damien said.

Hermione shook her head. "No, I think–"

"OI!" a shout startled all four of them, and they turned as one to see a guard behind them. "What you lot think you're doin'?" the man asked, striding towards them. A swipe of his wand had lights come flickering on in the Gallery, so they could all see properly.

Damien recognised the guard as the same one who had been closely watching the Quill while on duty. The man stood before them, his brow furrowed and dark eyes narrowed. "Is this supposed to be a prank? You lot think you're funny, stayin' behind to vandalise the Gallery?"

"No, no, we would never do something like that," Hermione protested.

"Sorry, we didn't realise the Gallery had closed," Ron said, which had Damien and Ginny grimace. There was no way the guard was going to fall for that.

"The place emptin' and the lights goin' off wasn't enough of a clue?" the guard asked. "The Gallery shuts at six. Says so on the board outside."

Damien shared a look with Ginny. Maybe the guard wasn't as sharp as they feared.

"We're so sorry," Ginny said. "We'll leave."

"Too right you will," the guard said. He pointed to the doors. "Get marchin'. All of you."

The four teens hurried past him, breathing out in relief. They had been caught, but at least they were getting away without much trouble. They would just have to come up with another plan to get to the Quill.

The guard was behind them, walking them out to make sure they left. They were almost at the door when it opened and another guard came in. This one, all four realised with sinking hearts, didn't look as dim-witted as the first one.

"What is this?" the man demanded, his eyes wide and mouth opened. "What are you all doing in here after hours?"

"It's okay," the first guard said, waving a hand at him. "I got it covered. They're just leavin'."

"This is a breach in security," the second guard continued to exclaim. His eyes moved to all four corners of the hall. "What happened to the security beams?"

Damien felt like the bottom of his stomach had fallen out.

"What security beams?" Ron asked, with perfect confusion. "We don't know what you're talking about. We didn't realise the Gallery had closed–"

"Don't give me that rubbish!" The second guard scoffed. "We check every inch of the Gallery at closing time and ask everyone to leave. If we didn't see you, it's because you were hiding." He stepped towards the teens, his wand already in hand. "What were you four planning? Are you vandals? Or thieves?"

"We haven't done anything," Damien said.

The guard glared at Damien. "How did the beams get switched off?"

"There were no beams," Hermione said.

"I turned them on myself!" the second guard spat. "All of you stay here, while I contact the Ministry and report this."

Damien turned to look at Ron in panic. They were screwed. Completely and utterly screwed. What excuse would work to explain what they were doing here? Their parents thought they were at each other's homes, studying.

"Hey, come on," the first guard said, passing the four teens to come to his colleague's side. "They're just kids. They haven't touched nothin' or broken anythin'. No damage's been done. Let's just kick 'em out and get home."

"They have touched something," the irate guard fought back. "Somehow, they've managed to switch the security beams off. That tells me these four were planning something." He held up his wand, about to conjure his Patronus so it could alert the Ministry.

The four teens huddled closer. "What do we do now?" Ginny whispered.

Ron shook his head, blue eyes wide. "I – I don't know."

"Hey man, come on," the first guard said. "Reportin' it is just gonna turn this into a bigger mess. Let's just forget about it and go home, and let these kids go home too."

The second guard let out a snort. "No chance!" He said. He extended his hand, holding up his wand.

The first guard suddenly moved, reaching out to grab hold of the man's wrist, stopping him. The other man looked to him with shock. "What are you doing, Jones?" he asked.

The first guard sighed. "You should have just listened to me and let things be," he said, his manner of speaking changing, his tone hardening. "Now, you've forced my hand."

Before the other guard could say anything, or even utter a spell of any sort, the first guard had twisted the wrist in his grip, making the man squeal and drop his wand. It went clattering to the floor. The first guard raised a fist and punched his colleague square in the face. The guard fell to the floor, dazed and confused.

He wasn't the only one.

Ron, Hermione, Ginny and Damien were confused to their very core too. They stared at the guard, whose entire persona had shifted as he stood tall, power radiating off him.

Dumb-founded, they watched as the guard's appearance started to change. Damien staggered forward a step. He didn't need to wait for the transformation to finish. He knew who it was, under the guard's disguise.

"Harry," he whispered.

His brother turned to face him, his true features becoming visible now that the polyjuice potion's effect was wearing off. Harry didn't say anything, nor did he look at Damien or the others for too long. He stooped low to pick up the guard's wand from the floor and stood, towering over him. The guard had paled, his eyes wide and fixed on Harry, recognising the most wanted wizard of their time, second only to Lord Voldemort himself.

"No," the man pleaded, eyeing the wand in the Dark Prince's hand. "No – don't – please! Please, don't!"

"You should have gone home when I gave you the chance," Harry said. "Your buddy Jones took that option, you should have too."

"Harry, no," Damien called out in panic. "Don't hurt him."

"Please, Harry," Hermione said tentatively. "You don't have to do this."

They all had seen Harry kill before. He had brought a Death Eater down when Hogwarts Express was attacked. All four of them knew Harry was capable of killing the guard without hesitation, but they couldn't stand back and watch him do it.

"You don't have to hurt him, Harry," Ginny said. "You can let him go."

Harry spoke without turning to face them. "If I do that, he'll tell the Ministry what he saw."

"I won't say a word," the guard promised, shaking his head. "I swear it, I won't tell anyone. Please. Please, don't kill me!"

Harry smiled. "Who said anything about killing you?"

The guard looked surprised, and rather confused. The four teens mirrored his reaction, looking amongst themselves with furrowed brows and narrowed eyes.

Harry didn't leave them guessing for long. He pointed the wand at the man's head and whispered, "Obliviate."

The man's expression froze in place, before a blank look took over his features. Harry didn't waste time and stunned him with a quick 'Stupefy', knocking him unconscious. He leant down to put the guard's wand back in his pocket, before wandlessly pushing his prone body across the hall and into the small guard's office. He closed the door and locked it, leaving the stunned guard to come to his senses in a few hours and figure his own way out of the locked room.

Harry turned around to meet the stares of the four teens. No one spoke, but just looked at each other. Then with a shake of his head, Harry moved past them.

"You lot are unbelievable," he growled as he walked towards the display case for the Golden Quill. "What were you thinking coming here?"

"Us?" Hermione exclaimed. "What are you doing here? It's not safe for you. If any of the guards had suspected anything and called the Aurors–"

"I can take care of the guards and the Aurors," Harry said. He stopped and turned to face them, but kept his eyes on Hermione only. "But if the Aurors were called and found all of you here, attempting a robbery, what would you have done? What is it that you can do?"

No one had an answer. All four just stood there sheepishly. Harry's eyes darted to Damien. "Go home," he instructed.

"Wait!" Ron called as Harry turned around. "You don't get to order us around."

"Yes, I do," Harry replied sharply. "The rule is; if I can kick your ass, I can order it around."

"That's the only thing you understand, is it?" Ron asked. "Fighting? Hurting anyone who doesn't listen to you or do as you say?" His angry blue eyes were fixed on Harry. "Nothing else makes sense to you, does it? Like common decency? Like how when someone helps you, you should at least say goodbye before upping and leaving in the middle of the night."

"I never asked you to help me," Harry replied.

"You don't need to," Ron shot back. "That's what friends do; help each other without having to be asked first."

Harry paused. "We are not friends," he said bluntly.

Ron held his eyes and went quiet for a few moments. "No, I guess we're not," he said at last. "But what about family? Does that mean anything to you?"

Harry looked over at Damien, but was quick to look back at Ron, not meeting Damien's gaze.

"You didn't say goodbye to your own brother," Ron continued. "You didn't even leave a note. You ignored all his phone calls. What was your plan, Harry? To walk away and never come back?"

Damien waited for Harry's answer, but Harry remained quiet.

"We happened to run into each other here," Ron said. "'Cause we came for the same thing; the Horcrux, otherwise–"

"Wait," Harry interrupted, his eyes narrowed. "How did you know about the Horcrux?"

"We saw the article in the paper," Ron replied. "As soon as we saw it, all of us realised what it was."

Harry's gaze scanned the group. "All of you read about it in the Daily Prophet and figured out it was a Horcrux?"

"Yeah," Ginny replied. "Where did you find out about it?"

Harry didn't answer. He turned to look at the Quill, sitting proudly in the glass case. Without another word, he started towards it. The other four shared a look and followed after him. Harry came to stand before the Quill, emerald eyes studying it.

"What is it, Harry?" Hermione asked. "What's wrong?"

Harry didn't answer right away. He lifted a hand towards the case but didn't touch it. He stood back, brow furrowed and eyes narrowed.

Damien stepped towards him. "What's wrong?" he asked.

Harry shook his head. "I don't–" he paused. "I saw the same article, in the same paper, about the Gallery opening and the minute I read about Ravenclaw's Quill, I knew it was a Horcrux." He turned to look at Damien, meeting his eyes at last. "I figured it out, but you all shouldn't have been able to."

"Well, excuse us," Ron started, affronted. "You may think we are all dumb–"

"No," Harry cut him off. "That's not what I meant. The information about the Quill, the way it was advertised, it grabbed my attention and I realised it must be one of the Horcruxes. But I'm actively looking for clues, I'm hunting the Horcruxes, so I read that article and pieced together the clues because my mind was already searching for them."

"So did we," Ginny said. "I don't understand what the problem is."

Harry threw her a sharp look. "Come on, Ginny," he started. "Think about it. We are hunting Horcruxes. It's notoriously difficult to get any information on any of them. Then one morning, an article appears in the Daily Prophet, advertising the Quill in such a way that all of us realise instantly it's a Horcrux. And it happens to be on display in this very Gallery." He shook his head. "It's too much of a coincidence."

"Maybe it's just a lucky break," Damien said.

Harry was back to staring at the Quill. "No such thing as a 'lucky break'." He looked around the Gallery. "How many sensors control boxes did you have to deactivate?"

"One," Damien replied, feeling a strange sense of foreboding.

Harry's surprise showed on his expression. He looked at the Quill and held up his hand.

"Harry, don't," Ginny started.

But Harry ignored her and moved closer, until his fingers touched the glass casing. Nothing happened. No alarms were triggered. No security measures came into force.

Harry pulled back, his face pale and eyes wide as his gaze darted to all corners of the Gallery. "It's a trap," he breathed. "It's a trap–"

"Well done, Prince," a new voice called out.

Harry turned, as did the other four, staring in surprise as a figure slowly revealed himself from the shadows.

Lucius Malfoy stepped into the light, removing his Death Eater mask. He smiled at Harry, but it held more grimace than actual delight.

"You always were brilliant when it came to analysing theoretical traps." A look of regret, genuine and clear to see, flashed on his face. "It's a shame you always seem to fall for them anyway."

In a heartbeat, dark-robed men wearing white skull masks appeared out of thin air. Harry didn't have to look around the Gallery to know that he was completely surrounded by Death Eaters. He kept his eyes on Lucius, who held his stare with troubled grey eyes.

"I'm sorry, Prince," he said, "but it's time for you to come home."