A/N: Well, it's been months, but at least it hasn't been years... Anyway, once again we thank Mezzo_E_Mezzo (fanfiction username: MMEEMM) for taking this over and writing when Throck and myself cannot.

Hope you all enjoy :)

Part 29 - By Trials and Errors

Voldemort was exceedingly pleased. After weeks of calculating and anticipation, his plan had finally come to fruition. The beautiful wand in his hands could not be described any other way but perfect. 13 inches of sapling hawthorn, phoenix feather core, and surprisingly swishy. It was just WONDERFUL with curses; he had immediately tested with a particularly satisfactory Crucio on the old wand maker, and then again with a mag-ni-fi-cent Avada Kedavra just some moments ago, killing one of the former prisoners of Azkaban that had tried to run away. No one could lie to Voldemort. No one could fool him. No one would receive mercy from him.

He had been so content with his new weapon that he had decided to let Ollivander live. After all, killing the best wand maker in the country was too short-sighted. He might turn out useful again. So, for now, he had thrown him in the Lestrange Mansion's dungeon, and he was about to lead the second and last of his attacks on the Magical-World-obstinately-attached-to-the-Light-and-to-those-revolting-Dumbledores.

They had tasted his power and they would fear him once again. Oh, he would make them pay for their arrogance, that pathetic attempt to bury him in obscurity. He had already planned a complex series of attacks: they would strike at the Ministry, taking down that imbecile, McCormick; they would attack Diagon Alley again, but focus on Gringotts; then they would conquer Hogwarts, where he would personally take care of the old codger and the meaningless brat.

Only one more preparation must be made. Something he couldn't postpone any longer, an assurance in his glorious path to immortality. The backwards steps he'd taken of late had been, in short, disappointing. Unfortunately, they were necessary to regain control over his errant magic. With his power and wand once again aligned with torture and death, his long, painful wait was finally done. The next step could be taken.

On the table before him lay an ancient jewel case: polished ebony inlaid with an intricate, spiraling web of silver. It had taken almost a year to find this particular item. He opened the case with his long, white hands and took the golden, badger-shaped pin from its embroidered pad. The eyes of the badger were tiny ambers, and looking directly into the gems one could see the ghost of flames burning inside. Though not as famous as the cup, it, too, had once belonged to Helga Hufflepuff. It was the perfect host for the first of his new series of horcruxes. Together with the necklace and the diadem, this would form the perfect number of soul fragments.

Voldemort moved the pin to the table, putting aside the beautiful jewel case for the moment. He had plans for it, a combination of curses and charms that would prevent theft or destruction. His horcruxes were invaluable, and though he had plans to remove the Dumbledores from the equation, there would always be others seeking to destroy the means of his immortality.

He focused inward, on his core rife with dark power, lingering in the pleasure of the residual energy of the murder. Oh, how he anticipated the death his reclaimed power would bring to those who stood in his way! He used that energy to split what remained of his soul in two, tasting again the familiar feeling of invulnerability that came from pulling a part of himself out of his mortal body. He then made the soul piece enter the pin, connecting with the intrinsic magic of the jewel, feeling the item that became hotter and hotter in his hands.

But, suddenly, that alien magic, the BRAT'S magic that he had been able to restrain and vanquish, surged toward the horcrux like a thunderbolt attracted by a lighting rod. The magic roared in a chaos of multiple voices that stunned the Dark Lord, above all the voice that he had already heard once:

"Abomination!"

The voice screamed half in rage and half in pain, then the magic engulfed the pin, cutting out Voldemort's control over the horcrux. In shock, the Dark Lord watched the eyes of the badger flashing first with the black mist of his dark magic, then with a bright green sparkle that reminded him too much of the brat's eyes the moment he had reflected the AK that Halloween night. Suddenly, the small badger in his hands flared alive and bit him with sharpened tiny teeth.

Voldemort yelled in pain, jumping to his feet and violently shaking the thing out of his hand. The pin flew across the room and then, with a horrible shriek, exploded in mid-air in a burst of dark and greenish magic, the soul fragment crushed and evaporating in agony.

He was pierced by a fierce blade of pure pain, he closed his eyes tight and gnashed his teeth horribly. Again! A part of his very soul, gone!

The Dark Lord didn't need to look up; he knew the beautiful pin was now a twisted, macabre echo of its former glory. But worst of all, he felt the unknown magic swirling inside himself, resonating in his ears, weakening his core once more. His fury boiled inside his blood like acid. He knew if he were to try a curse now, it would fail, just as it had in Little Hangleton. But he had no intention of letting anyone know of this unexpected weakness. This meant that he had to delay his plans! And that he would need another of his precious horcruxes in order to regain control! AGAIN!

"RAAAAAHHHH!"

His magnificent wand may be useless on living beings, now, but its natural attunement to death and Voldemort's rage made short work of destroying the room and everything in it.

O

Harry and Albus following Colin through the familiar RDHPIT corridor. Their meeting with the Unspeakables about Horcruxes and the radar Seth had invented had been rescheduled for that morning, and they were expectant to know the reasons.

Actually, Harry was quite happy about the unexpected trip to the Ministry. Ever since the attacks brought by Voldemort some weeks ago, he had been confined inside Hogwarts, when he had hoped instead for a brief holiday with Albus during the summer. On the contrary, the safety measures had increased drastically and he had had to endure the constant presence of an adult wherever he went. It got old fast. Being able to put his nose out of the school was refreshing, despite the reasons for this escapade.

Once in the meeting room, they saw the rest of the Unspeakables. At the center of the table, there was the particular instrument created by Seth and David for their "Seek and Destroy" project. It was a screen provided with a magic accumulator that, once hit with the horcrux locator spell, should show information about Voldemort's soul pieces. Albus and Harry had already seen the tool under construction, and they were quite curious about its internal design. Unfortunately, Seth had the accumulator turned away from the door, and all they could see of him was a shoulder and the edge of some oddly-shaped tool peeking out from behind the screen. The others were quietly talking, but they stopped when the Dumbledores came in the room.

"Here you are, Albus, Harry. We've got news," said Jess.

"The cup?" blurted out Albus, searching in the room for Anna, their contact with Abraxas and with the Malfoy vaults at Gringotts. Jess understood immediately what the old wizard was thinking and nodded. "Yes. Anna is coming here with the thing. We will destroy it."

Albus had no time to relax because Jess continued: "But we have called you with urgency because the radar had a strange fluctuation this morning."

"A fluctuation?" asked Harry, anxious. He was of course relieved that there was no longer a horcrux in his head, but a small part of him was hungry for information about his enemy that the damn scar usually brought him.

"Yef," came the muffled answer from Seth, from behind the panel. "It feemf dad he had dried do meigh anoder one."

Harry peeked beyond the panel and noted that Seth had his hands occupied on the radar, a screwdriver clenched in his teeth and his wand behind his ear. But what he had just said distracted the boy from the funny sight. "He tried to make another horcrux, didn't he?" asked Harry.

The Unspeakables exchanged sad looks. They should have been used to hearing the young boy speak about such horrible things so easily. However, it always felt so wrong. A child should never have such serious and alert green eyes. Their shoulders seemed to slump a little, as if they were carrying something heavy.

David sighed. "Yes, but we don't know for sure if he succeeded. Unluckily, the locator spell is not powerful enough to give details."

"If Voldemort is going to create another set of unknown horcruxes… Merlin help us!" Rita muttered darkly as she and Curt peered through calculations scrawled across papers messily stacked in a corner of the large table. After some years, she had been fully integrated among the Unspeakables, and even the Dumbledores were now used to her presence and trusted her. She was quite different from the woman they knew from the future.

David frowned, looking at the back of the panel that now Seth was closing, complaining, "If only we could give the device some image of how the horcruxes really are..."

Albus felt a stirring at the end of his emotional link. Hope and determination were coming from Harry, and the man immediately understood what was passing through the boy's mind. They exchanged a look, and Albus meant: 'Are you sure? It could bring them to the truth', but they both knew that the issue was far more important than their time-travel secret.

"Perhaps, I… I can do it," exclaimed the kid.

All the eyes in the room were now on Harry. He gulped. "It… it works with mental images, doesn't it? Just like a Pensieve? When I got that thing in my mind, it gave me some sort of mental pictures of the others and-"

"Harry," interrupted Jess, "You don't have the horcrux inside yourself anymore; the link with them has been severed, you can't..." but she was cut off by the door opening.

Anna entered the room carrying a simple overnight bag. "We found it," she declared before becoming aware of the atmosphere in the room. "What… what's happened?"

"Let's handle one problem at a time," said Albus, looking at the bag that was clearly a special container with overlaying magic that shielded the contents from magical detection. The others nodded gravely. Anna put the bag on the table and opened it. Albus glanced between Jess, who was the one with the ability to recognize a horcrux's aura, and the device on the table, but neither seemed to have good news. The device was silent and still, and Jess frowned in worry and disbelief.

"This is not a horcrux," said Jess, looking up at them.

Harry glared at the cup. It was THE cup, or it seemed identical to the one he remembered. But he too could feel the absence of the horrible aura. Had they been tricked? But if this was a fake one, where could the real one possibly be? Did Voldemort make a different horcrux in this timeline? How they were supposed to find it?

Anna was astonished. "B-but it had protection curses and charms on it. Abraxas nearly lost consciousness when he tried to touch it. I was just at the entrance of the vault, I saw it."

"This is not Helga Hufflepuff's cup," confirmed the cold voice of Albus, who was examining the item. "It's a fake."

The temperature in the room decreased abruptly. All of their work, patience and hope, and for nothing?

"So, it seems that he knew that we would search for the cup and he set a trap, hiding the real one," mumbled Colin, bitterly.

Harry clenched his fists, livid. If this was true, at least the horcrux was really the same as in the future. But if they couldn't find it, they were at a dead end nonetheless. "Guys, let me try to pass the images of the horcruxes to the radar. We need them. We need to find them as soon as we can. What harm could it bring? If it doesn't work, at least we have tried." He gave a begging look to Jess, who sighed and turned to Seth.

"Is Harry right, Seth? If we try and fail, there won't be consequences?"

"I think so," replied Seth, leafing through his notebook. "If the images don't match with the residue and the magic absorbed by the radar, it should ignore them."

"Let's try. Maybe we'll get lucky," commented Albus, with a quick glance toward David.

O

They were all in the meeting room, staring at the device that was buzzing while processing the information they had given it. Seth had informed them that the process could take over an hour, and both the Dumbledores had agreed to wait.

Jess and Anna, however, had left the room with an excuse, and were now quietly talking in the hallway, next to the door, ready to join the others when the machine was finished.

"What did you want to talk with me about, Anna? And why out of the room?" asked Jess. They had just left after she had heard Anna's mental request.

"Harry. I could clearly see his thoughts when he put them in the forefront of his mind for Albus to take with his wand."

"So? What about them?"

"They were… complex, thick ones. It's hard to tell, but..." Anna bit her lower lip, thoughtful. "They were not just mental pictures, as he said. They were memories. I couldn't get much information from the bits he selected, but they definitely felt like memories. Real, lived, memories."

Jess hummed, her chin in hand. "The Dumbledores have some secret they're not sharing with us. And we can't force them to. Let's see how the radar responds to Harry's memories, and we will try to ask him something about them."

Suddenly, David peeked out from behind the door. "The device is ready. We can try the spell."

The women re-entered the room, eager to see the results.

O

Everyone gathered around the table, now freed from the bulky horcrux radar that had done its job - and the results of its operation were amazing.

Not only did they discover that the real cup was gone, but, apparently, it had been REABSORBED by the main soul piece, namely Voldemort himself. They had also confirmed the meaning of the fluctuation. Voldemort had tried to make another horcrux, but for some reason (and luckily for them) the fragment had been lost, just as what had happened with Nagini. They all remembered well what happened when the Headmaster's mind was trapped in Harry's body. The radar was empowered and driven by the thoughts given by Harry, so now they knew for certain that there was only one Horcrux left: Narcissa's necklace.

Many questions about it all were now floating in their heads. Looking at them, Anna had a much better idea of what constituted a "brainstorm". Her worries on top of theirs: what was Harry hiding? Where did those memories really come from? Were they from the same alternative reality that Anna had seen in Albus' mind? The reality in which Lucius had killed her? The thought was quite disturbing, such as the connection of that reality with this one.

But at the moment, the fact that Voldemort had sacrificed one of his precious horcruxes was the most worrying.

"What reason could Voldemort possibly have to do this?" asked Colin.

"The horcruxes are his most treasured project. Whatever the reason, it means nothing good for us," commented Albus.

"Wait," started Jess, suddenly remembering something, "What about the prophecy? 'The Dark Lord… will seek his others to strengthen further'… what if he has found a way to become more powerful using the horcruxes? If he thinks that in this moment he needs to be stronger than he needs to be immortal, he would postpone his ultimate goal. We know that he tried to create another horcrux and failed… so the next logical thing for him to do could be to rely on the horcruxes he still has-"

"Or the ones he BELIEVES he still has," concluded Albus, smirking.

"What are you talking about?" David asked.

"Rowena Ravenclaw's diadem. He doesn't know that I found it and that I destroyed the horcrux inside it. We could pay him back in his own coin, using a fake diadem as a lure. If he tries to take it, we would be sure he is actually changing his plans," proposed the Headmaster.

Anna held her breath at the thought. "Do you think that… if he needs a horcrux and if there are no others left… he could possibly…?" Relief and anguish were equally mixed in her unfinished question.

Jess glanced at her with worry. "We can't predict what the Dark Lord will do. If he comes to the decision of removing the horcrux from Narcissa, it can mean her freedom or her death. She could escape from him if she regains her senses, or he could kill her fearing betrayal. And unfortunately, there's also the issue of whether or not her consciousness has been irremediably tainted by the horcrux."

"It's not forever tainted," replied Anna, tightening her jaw. "If we free her, she would just think of Draco and understand her mistakes. I have no doubt."

In the following silence, Seth tentatively cleared his throat. "Ehm, I am thinking about another thing that I may be able to do for future utility," he declared, obtaining their attention. "What about a sort of alarm that will alert us if there are no more horcruxes left? If this is going to happen during a battle, it could be opportune knowing if we are free to attack the bad guy or not, right?"

"Will you be able to create such a thing?" exclaimed Harry, stunned.

Seth blinked at the boy, quite offended. "Of course, Harry. It will connect to the radar, and it will react if the soul is the last piece left because it won't be able to triangulate more than one shard anymore, trust me."

The look of admiration and joy in those bright green eyes was enough for Seth to stand up and get to work on his new task, the meeting dismissed.

O

The Ministry was gloomy and silent; it seemed empty at that time of night, in that quiet hour just after midnight. The vampire looked around elegantly, without any worry to hide his presence. One of his companions had informed him of the lack of protection against their species in the Wizards' Ministry, and Wilhelm had not believed him, but now he had to admit that the statement was true - unbelievably.

He had been sent to recover an object, a rather humble task in reality, which suited very little his ambitions and was nearly an insult to his capabilities. Perhaps they had mistaken him and his people for night-time bellboys to use to penetrate the stupid defenses the wizards built against wizards? Ah, but Wilhelm knew that the hour of the spotlight would come, he would make bloody feasts in the incipient war and raise the ranks of his group with a new generation of vampires. It was a pity that the newly resurrected in Azkaban had been eliminated by the Aurors. Of course they were killed. They had been left there alone, without protection, as a trap for the investigators. And Voldemort had not cared about losing the new vampires - he had just repopulated his troops. But the vampires had not liked it, and they would certainly remember this disrespect. When the opportunity came, they would get their revenge.

Wilhelm's group of vampires did not like Voldemort at all. Their deal had been with the Master, not this would-be dictator, but their chosen ally had long proven herself submissive to the so-called Dark Lord. Such a shame.

Wilhelm entered the narrow room full of shining caskets without difficulty. The Minister himself had boasted, in his Undersecretary's presence, about his new wing with additional protective measures that surpassed those of Gringotts'. And in that new area ancient treasures and precious jewels were exhibited, including the re-discovered famous diadem of Rowena Ravenclaw, given to the Minister by none other but Albus Dumbledore. Voldemort, through his faithful Crouch Jr., had come to know that this much sought-after artifact was now available because the Wizarding World deserved to see proof of the Founders' magnificence. Most of all, it deserved to see that majesty held by the strong arms of the Ministry.

Wilhelm looked down at the diadem. It sparkled sharply in the moonlight, behind a glass case. The vampire smiled. Soon he would have his war.

O

Lupin tried to speak, but his throat was so dry he actually had some problems in breathing. It couldn't be. It was ridiculous.

"Albus, you can't be serious," huffed the werewolf.

Albus' office was quiet and bright in the orange light of the afternoon. Harry was in the Library, and the Headmaster had called for Lupin and Provo. He had had a request for them, and initially Lupin had been really eager to help, no matter what it was about, but, after listening to the old man, he had found himself red in the face with a persistent whistle in his ears.

The wizard, seated in his high and comfy chair, was leaning back, his hands in his lap, relaxed, as he offered them the nth lemon drop. The calmness in his bright blue eyes was not entirely genuine, but that was just what was needed. In fact, Albus knew precisely how painful this request was for them, but in this moment, he had few options.

"I've talked with the Head of the Department of Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures, Hypatia Astor. She would be in debt with you if you agreed to help. She's in serious need indeed."

"We help our kind, Lupin," commented Provo with a quiet voice, earning a sparkle from Albus' eyes.

"But… SHE would be there, too!" Lupin all but snarled between his teeth.

"I am very displeased about Ms. Dolores Umbridge being assigned to the team that will work in the next-to-be 'Werewolf Liaison Office', but she is an old secretary in the Department and this cannot be prevented," Albus said softly, a stingy resignation in his voice proving that he had actually tried to remove the witch from her position. "And, after the violent attack in Diagon Alley, the Ministry is obliged to make some move to reassure the population about the werewolf issue."

"Albus, you can't ignore our precedent! That evil toad being... the last time we met, Harry was nearly killed because she locked us up in that room without a valid reason! She just wanted us to be humiliated and exiled! She's the worst person for carrying that activity!" Lupin shouted.

"You know, my boy, it is exactly for this reason that I assume you are the most qualified people for this delicate and diplomatic task. You know who you are dealing with; she could be very dangerous if we leave her alone, and if we did, the entire British werewolf population would likely join Voldemort exclusively due to her, or would be arrested after attempting to kill her."

"I was tempted myself," the English werewolf admitted bitterly.

"And most would not have had the same restraint," the Headmaster pointed out with an appreciative smile.

"But… what about Harry? I came here to protect him. How I am supposed to do so, if I'm in a far distant office in the middle of a fight between Dolores Umbridge and dozens of angry werewolves?" protested Lupin.

"Hear, my friend. You are not wrong, but things are moving fast now. The war is approaching and it will begin quickly and violently. Being Harry's bodyguard isn't the only way to protect him. If you could represent the link between wizards and werewolves, you'll be a great pain in the side of Voldemort's army, and this will facilitate the Dark Lord's demise. The boy's safety is strictly linked to the weakening and vanquishing of that evil man."

Lupin cast a resigned look at Provo, who was glaring at him without adding another word. His mentor knew that this decision was Lupin's and Lupin's alone. He sighed.

"All right. We can give it a try, then, for Harry."

O

Voldemort ignored the sarcasm he could feel in the vampire's bow as the being set the cloth wrapped diadem at his feet and vanished into obnoxious mist. The vampires may resent being sent on what they considered menial errands, but Voldemort couldn't risk telling them the truth. This mission was vitally important. All his plans rested within this tiny item. The Dark Lord waved his wand, unwrapping the grey cloth from Rowena Ravenclaw's headpiece.

The horcrux was gone.

Voldemort could sense the absence of his soul fragment as soon as the diadem was revealed, but the artifact itself required further examination. A few complex identification spells confirmed that the diadem was, indeed, the original crown enchanted by Ravenclaw, but someone had obviously destroyed the horcrux, then they had reconstructed the appearance of the diadem.

He had been fooled. And he KNEW who was behind it all. Dumbledore. The old codger had had some fun in making him believe he could take back his horcrux… but why? Just for the sake of mocking him? Was that possible?

Voldemort could feel the temperature in the room plummeting with the increase of his rage. His Death Eaters could sense the danger too, and they wisely left him alone. It was better this way, thought Voldemort, or they could discover the truth: that their Lord was not capable of hurting anyone. Finding alternative ways for practicing torture with innocuous spells was difficult, and it brought suspicions. His lieutenants believed that he was working on rituals for becoming more powerful and invincible, not that he was actually trying to regain his capacity of performing Dark Arts.

This was a great hindrance. Voldemort was furious, now he had to wait to make any move, he couldn't fight like this, he would need another horcrux… what was left at this point? He knew the answer, and he didn't like it at all. The necklace. He needed the necklace. But he just COULDN'T take that from Narcissa. It was too dangerous. The Dark Lord was well aware of the fact that Narcissa was tormented, she had doubts, and she always thought about the pale brat of hers, Draco. If he freed her from the horcrux, she would betray him, and he would have to kill her… But Voldemort knew that he couldn't afford to lose the "Master" now. He needed her, because she was at the core of the liaison with the vampires. They had made that very clear to him. Their starting deal was with her, because of past relationships between their elders and the Malfoy family, relationships that she was able to revive when Voldemort was just a shadow without a body. Without her, the vampires would almost surely turn their backs on him, the finicky devils. He surely didn't need a war with their kind added to his already frustrating attempts to cleanse his magic. So, in the end, despite the promised bloody war, the vampires did not trust him enough and were always addressing Narcissa, despite her being in hiding. Nor could he use an Imperio on the woman. The vampires were expert mind manipulators and they would sense something was off. They would then feel tricked and turn against him. What a mess!

With his last hope annihilated and laying in front of him in the form of the diadem, Voldemort thought about his ultimate backup plan in the aim of regaining control over himself and his own magic.

The truth was, his magic and Harry's magic were fighting inside him, and at the moment the brat's power had a bigger portion of the whole. So, if he couldn't bring more power to his own side using the horcruxes, the only way was weakening the brat's. He had researched a great deal in these past months, and it seemed that a ritual existed. It was a vicious and delightful little ceremony used in ancient times in order to purify a pureblood line, banishing the magic of the undesired parent from a child born with incompatible bloodlines that was suffering or dying from the coexistence of strong and opposite forces, such as the bastard of two families whose lineages were victims of certain curses.

The most delightful fact in this particular ritual was that it expected the 'involvement' of the parent whose magic the child was to be purified, and it meant that Voldemort would soon have the pleasure of hosting the 'parent' of his magic, the brat himself… He was now his top priority.

He couldn't wait.

A/N: We're wrapping things up with the story, and the next part should be up faster than this one was-at the very least it should be up this year ;P

Thanks everyone for reading and reviewing.