I finally got around to writing this. I had been planning to get this released in early January, but that obviously didn't work out. But, it's here now so, yay?
Transfiguration was definitely an excellent branch of magic to learn, being a truly wondrous discipline of the esoteric. In duelling though, it was straight forward in how effective it was, especially for Harry's future goals.
But Merlin was it difficult to counter.
"You're letting them get too close!" He said sharply, the only person in the Room of Requirement with him frantically trying to disperse the transfigured wolves attacking her.
"I'm trying!" Daphne gasped, staggering as she managed to blast one to pieces with a Reductor curse, sweat running down her face.
Christmas break was in two days and Daphne had insisted that Harry help her out with more dueling practice beforehand, the blonde refusing to take no for an answer.
The Room of Requirement was better equipped, from what Daphne said, than her own home.
But Harry knew for a fact it was just a lie for her to spend time with him without Astoria or anybody else being suspicious.
Seeing that she was wobbling unsteadily as she evaded the three remaining wolves, her aim shaky from fatigue, Harry flicked his wand and made the constructs collapse into the desks they once were.
Daphne put her hands on her knees, trying to force air into her lungs as she stared up at him, her hair clinging damply to her face.
"I... can... keep. Going." She said between breaths, looking up at him with some irritation at stopping.
Harry was unmoved by her expressing her displeasure, his resolve in not letting her hurt herself unintentionally set in stone.
"Do you remember the agreement we made when you asked for help with duelling?" Harry asked pointedly, "I know more about this than you, Daphne. I don't want you getting hurt."
Letting out a growl of defiance, Daphne sloppily flung a stunner at Harry, the red jet paler than normal from exhaustion.
Wanting her to understand how tired she was, Harry muttered Protego under his breath and raised his left hand, conjuring a wandless shield spell.
The opaque shield didn't even ripple from the impact.
Daphne groaned in resignation and went to sit on the ground, trying to get her hair out of her face.
"Show off." She muttered, watching him as he walked up to her.
Harry both loved and hated that Daphne had so much of a fighting spirit. It was what he fell in love with the most about her, but it was also the source of most of the thankfully few arguments they had between them.
"I'm not exactly normal, Daphne," Harry pointed out, sitting down next to her while she caught her breath, "You're certainly better than any other fifth year, and most of the NEWT students."
Daphne's eyes narrowed, a skeptical light in them.
"Am I supposed to be surprised?"
Any time that the DA meetings involved duelling, Daphne dominated most of them.
"Well," Harry adopted a thoughtful expression, "Hermione did beat you that one time."
Daphne scowled at the reminder, the Gryffindor bookworm managing an extremely complex NEWT level transfiguration that caught her flat footed.
"You're not supposed to point that out." Daphne moved closer to him, a calculating look in her eyes.
Harry smiled at her attempt at looking threatening. It might have worked on others, but he could see right through it.
"I'm sorry if what I said upset your delicate sensibilities." Harry smirked, watching the traces of amusement flash across Daphne's features.
The blonde Slytherin creeped closer to him, her face inches from his.
"I'm sure I can think of an adequate payment." She smiled, leaning forward more and kissing him lightly.
Everything was going to go at her pace, no matter what. Harry had decided that from the moment he stopped brooding over what to do just days prior.
The softness of her lips had him shutting his eyes for a moment, his hand going through her hair.
His fingers caught on a lock and she flinched, jerking her head.
"Ow." She grimaced, the mood immediately killed.
"Sorry," Harry said a bit sheepishly, Daphne's hair having clumped a bit from how sweaty she was, "That was an accident."
With the mood thoroughly extinguished, Daphne stood up and flicked her wand at her face, muttering the incantation for a cleaning spell.
A faint flash of amber light came from her wand and most of the sweat disappeared, but her hair was still a mess.
"I need to shower." She said shortly, adjusting her shirt some from it bunching up from her sitting down. "And you remember where to meet up?" She asked again.
Daphne and her father were supposed to meet him and Sirius at a specific location to take a portkey made by Cyrus, who called in a small favour to get one made.
"For the third time, yes." Harry replied, smiling at Daphne's almost obsessive attention to ensuring nothing chaotic occured.
"Just checking." She said, seeming to hesitate for a moment on leaving. "And we are not together as of this moment. To my mother, father, and Astoria, we have just started a friendship through a pact, alright?"
That was a long discussion that the two had two days after her birthday, the girl not enjoying having to lay that down as a rule. Daphne didn't want her parents finding out until later about them, which, fair enough.
"So," Her expression turned to a familiar kind, "I better say goodbye."
Quick as a flash, Daphne rushed towards him and kissed him one last time, before turning and leaving the room.
With nobody else there, Harry took a deep breath and ran his fingers across his forehead and through his hair, calming his breathing.
Since they were definitely not telling her parents, that was going to be the last time they would kiss or show any affection for the next week.
And Harry dreaded it.
The months of her being out of reach, her actual death, and the nightmares he had finally felt like a horrible and bad hallucination once he held her again. And now he was being denied her again.
Gritting his teeth, Harry flicked his wand at a table that appeared at his command, the Room complying to his thoughts.
A blasting curse that contorted the air from its intensity came from his wand and struck the table, reducing it to ash with a loud boom.
Barbaric display of needless violence? Yes. Yes, it was. But Harry couldn't bring himself to care either way.
Stowing his wand away and pulling on his invisibility cloak, Harry put the plan he had devised in the first few days since he travelled back to the past into motion. Dumbledore needed to be forewarned of the horcruxes and the mind altering aspects of them.
He just hoped he wouldn't get cold feet on how to sell it.
Getting to the Chamber was easy enough when invisible, and Harry exited it with the Diadem on him, or more specifically hovering behind him, in a silk bag, with a disillusionment charm on it.
He made sure that the meeting with Daphne had been in the evening, while this little escapade was right before curfew, and this particular day was when the sixth year prefects would be enforcing said curfew.
Re-entering the Room of Requirement, Harry focused on wanting jewelry, before he let the diadem fall to the ground.
A mass clutter of items, ranging from rings to necklaces, appeared all around him in a heap.
No time like the present. Harry thought grimly, gripping his wand tightly.
Hissing in Parseltongue to modify the spell, Harry cast green flames in a focused jet at the area surrounding the diadem, keeping the cone of affected area in a precise circle.
Once the silk bag was incinerated and the surrounding area was scorched black, Harry lowered the intensity of the fire and did something he knew would have all his friends and deceased relatives calling him an absolute moron for doing.
He set his robes on fire.
The fabric ignited and he fought the urge to start trying to strip it off or put it out, waiting until he started to feel it get a little too hot.
Harry then flicked his wand to shoot a gust of wind at himself, hard enough to put the flames out.
Shaken at what he had just done to himself, Harry took in several deep breaths and put his hands on his knees.
"You're an idiot. You're an idiot." He kept repeating to himself, truly understanding now why Daphne called him that exact word when he did something particularly stupid.
You can take the student out of Gryffindor, but you can't take the Gryffindor out of the student.
After he managed to calm his heart rate from the action of lighting himself on fire to fool Dumbledore, Harry readied himself for the final part.
I hope this is worth it. He stretched out his left arm and pointed his wand at his forearm, hissing the incantation.
A howl of pain, followed by copious amounts of profanity, echoed throughout the room in a cacophony of noise.
Albus Dumbledore casually flipped the page of a Transfiguration pamphlet on the latest small improvement in long term conjuring made by a Swiss wizard by the name of Johann Sweitzer, the small reprieve from anything else being pleasant for him.
Where many had small hobbies to entertain themselves, Dumbledore's were of a more academic sort. Transfiguration was his favorite aspect of the magical arts to study and to see others with a sharp mind applying the same kind of passion to their craft was like ambrosia to him.
Right as he got to a picture of the actual experiment, Dumbledore felt a House elf seek entrance into the office, a specific ping from a ward in place informing him that the elf tried to Apparate in.
Recognizing the particular feel of this specific elf, Dumbledore shifted the ward minutely to permit entrance.
With a crack, Dobby appeared around 20 feet in front of him, a second person standing next to him.
The identity of the boy had his brows raising, the next thing he noticed making him gasp in shock.
"Harry?" Dumbledore asked, horrorstruck as he digested the state the boy was in.
In short, the teen looked a mess. His robes were burnt and his face was covered in soot, the acrid smell of burnt fabric hitting him.
But the way he cradled his left arm caused the most alarm.
"Professor." Harry said, grimacing as he took a step towards him.
With speed that defied his age, Dumbledore flicked the Elder Wand into his hand and conjured a chair for Harry, already at the boy's side.
"What happened?" He asked urgently, the much younger of the two collapsing in the seat.
An attack? No student could catch him off guard. Severus spoke of Harry's skill. An accident, perhaps?
"Some type of artifact." Harry groaned, slowly moving the remnants of his sleeve to look at his arm. "A room the elves call 'The Come and Go Room'."
As Harry explained that he had been working on some spells to use in duelling, Dumbledore inspected Harry's arm.
Harry's arm was burned from his fingers up to the middle of his forearm, the degree of it being bad enough that Dumbledore was concerned about Harry not reacting.
"Can you feel anything in your hand?" Dumbledore asked gently, hoping the nerves weren't damaged.
"I can feel everything." Harry gritted out, his right hand clenched tightly on the armrest. "Can you fix it?"
Dumbledore looked at it closely and the enchantments on his spectacles picked up an extremely faint outline of unfamiliar magic, a kind that definitely piqued his interest.
Pulling out his wand, Dumbledore slowly weaved it in a fluid pattern over the limb, quietly chanting an incantation in Latin.
The burns receded, but didn't completely vanish.
What kind of magic is this? Dumbledore never came across a curse that resisted that kind of healing spell to the level this one did.
"Harry," Dumbledore looked into the green eyes of the teen in front of him, "I can heal this the rest of the way, but it will be painful. Do I have permission?"
Harry nodded, his jaw set in preparation.
"Do it."
Dumbledore nodded sadly and pressed the tip of the Elder wand again Harry's flesh, muttering in an old, Celtic tongue.
Harry groaned loudly and clenched harder as the burns started to heal, a soft sizzle emanating from the point of contact.
Dumbledore took no enjoyment from subjecting Harry to further pain, but he pressed on.
After several seconds of the skin knitting back together, Dumbledore lifted his wand up and inspected the arm, then on the fingers on Harry's hand.
"I have healed it," Dumbledore smiled faintly, looking back up at Harry's face, "What on earth did you touch to do this, Harry?"
Harry looked distinctly uncomfortable as he rubbed his newly healed arm, his eyes darting around the room.
"Some type of tiara thing... A diadem, I think that's what it's called."
Harry went on to explain to him what happened in the room on the seventh floor that sounded quite familiar to him.
Evidently, the room structured itself to the person's needs and Harry had been requesting random objects that could be useful...
Until he asked for some jewelry.
"I will not pry on who you sought to give a Christmas present to," Dumbledore promised, having noticed the boy suddenly look embarrassed, "But continue." He beckoned, peering over the rim of his glasses.
The teen continued as he was requested to and told the headmaster that the diadem seemed to attract him to it, almost like a compulsion.
"It started speaking to me," Harry said nervously, his face pale, "It was telling me that I could have the power to kill Voldemort if I put it on."
"I picked it up," Harry muttered, looking down at his feet, "And I tried to put it on."
Harry, why would you do something so foolish? Dumbledore had to fight the urge to scowl at such a foolhardy action. Impetuous and reckless youths may be, but Harry should have known better than to try it, compulsion or not.
"I do not need to tell you how foolish that was, Harry." Dumbledore's eyes narrowed as he lightly scolded the boy, failing to make eye contact with him.
"That's not the worst part," Harry mumbled, pressing his hand against his forehead, "I saw things." He got up from the chair and started pacing, seeming to be lost in his own thoughts.
Dumbledore kept his eyes on the raven haired teen, remaining patient for his sake.
"I saw places I've never been to," Harry's pacing abruptly stopped, the fifth year taking a deep breath and exhaling, "And something else."
"I recognized how it felt." The boy then finally looked up, bright green eyes holding an emotion in them that Dumbledore couldn't decipher.
"It almost felt like when Voldemort put me under the Imperious curse."
Dumbledore's thoughts coalesced into a sharp point of focus, possible reasons running through his mind.
The closest comparison he could make in that moment was the diary.
"It seems Voldemort may have made more than one version of what he did to his diary." Dumbledore mused, his eyes flicking towards Harry's.
He had assumed that Voldemort had made more than one Horcrux, but the thought of one being in Hogwarts chilled him to his very bones. So many students at risk, because of a monster.
Children could have been harmed. Innocents.
Albus.
"You will take me to the room," Dumbledore instructed calmly, but his skin tingled from his magic responding to his controlled fury at Voldemort's action, "I will destroy it, and the school will be rid of this abomination."
He was going to explain Horcruxes to Harry. It didn't matter if he had doubts about Harry's preparation for it, he'd encountered more than one Horcrux now and the potential risk was too great if he wasn't prepared.
"It's..." Harry paused, seeming to try and find the right words, "Not... the only one, sir. One of the places I saw when it tried to, I don't know, control me?" He said confusedly, "Was familiar. I saw different objects, like a cup, a ring, and a locket."
With a great deal of effort, Dumbledore prevented himself from accidentally breaking something from a magical backlash, his hand balled into a fist.
"Where?" He asked with a clipped tone, opting to ponder what the objects' importance was later.
"The Chamber of Secrets."
Keeping the Elder Wand in his hand, Albus Dumbledore whistled for Fawkes, the phoenix appearing in a flash of fire next to him.
"My apologies for disturbing your leisure flight," Dumbledore looked up at his familiar, "But I request help."
Fawkes trilled in respond, perching himself on Dumbledore's left shoulder.
"Take my arm, Harry." The old headmaster reached out towards the boy, who took the offered limb.
"Seventh floor." Dumbledore looked up at the majestic phoenix, who flashed them to the seventh floor of the castle.
With a quick swirl of red and gold flames, Dumbledore and Harry both arrived at the stated location. Harry promptly walked towards a section of the wall that had the rather memorable painting of a terribly failed attempt at teaching trolls how to dance, and started pacing back and forth.
Before Dumbledore could question why, a door seemed to shimmer into existence out of the wall and Harry pulled it open.
"Let me lead, Harry." Dumbledore said, brokering no alternative. He then fortified his Occlumency to as high a degree as he could for good measure and entered the room, wand ready.
The first thing Dumbledore saw as he entered was a circular scorch mark on the ground, the same faint magic radiating from it as the one from Harry's arm.
Dumbledore just counted his lucky stars that Harry didn't lose his arm, based on the ground looking like it had been glassed from the heat.
Show me the Horcrux. Dumbledore thought sharply, almost trying to physically project his thoughts to make the room respond to him.
It didn't appear like it evidently was supposed to, so Dumbledore switched tactics.
Jewelry. A diadem.
That seemed to do the trick, a diadem appearing in the center of the scorched section.
With a steely glint in his eyes, Dumbledore flicked his wand at the diadem, casting a esoteric detection spell at it to gauge its nature.
The echo of a result he got back filled him with disgust. The item reeked of dark magic, more than anything he'd ever felt in his over 100 years of life.
"Harry," Dumbledore called to him, spotting him at the doorway, "Stay back until I give the word. If I appear to be entranced by it, use whatever means you have to subdue me."
Harry nodded from a distance away, his own wand clenched tightly in his hand and his eyes trying to burn a hole into the diadem.
Dumbledore stalked towards the diadem and twisted his wand, his eyes narrowed.
Three streams of water came from his wand and formed into fluidic ropes, each of them wrapping around the diadem.
Inspecting it more closely, Dumbledore almost dropped it in shock when he saw a small inscription carved into it.
I recognize this. He almost choked at the sight of something he never thought possible. He had seen a replica of it in the Ravenclaw common room, but this was the real one.
'Wit beyond measure is a man's greatest treasure.' Was visible in Old English on the Diadem of Rowena Ravenclaw.
"You defile a priceless artifact with your poison," Dumbledore curled his lip in disgust, "Have you no shame, Tom?!"
But there was nothing to be done. It could not be purified, only destroyed.
From the research Dumbledore had done over the last 3 years since his suspicions of the diary led him down a rather disturbing path of research into destroying a Horcrux, it required extremely destructive magic to destroy it. Only three things fit that criteria that he could think of: Basilisk venom, Fiendfyre, and Nundu breath.
Nundu breath was impossible, because there currently weren't any in Britain, and he wasn't going to travel with a Horcrux out of country. He was old, not senile.
He was capable of casting Fiendfyre, even if the two occasions he had ever used it made him feel filthy for weeks afterwards. If he could avoid it, he would.
"Harry," He gently rotated the Diadem to hover beside him around a meter away, "Would you kindly escort me to the Chamber of Secrets?"
If Basilisk venom could destroy it like it did the diary, then it would make things infinitely easier.
"Yes, sir." Harry replied, eying the Diadem with a healthy degree of apprehension.
"Best put on your cloak, my boy," Dumbledore walked briskly towards the exit, keeping his own body in between Harry and the Diadem, "Questions will be asked."
Harry nodded and put his cloak on, the two walking towards where Dumbledore remembered Harry telling him the entrance was at.
After a speedy few minutes of walking, they reached the girl's bathroom and Harry went up to the sink, glancing over his shoulder at Dumbledore.
"I've been down here a few times before," Harry said, "So the debris is partially cleared. Just letting you know."
Harry then looked at the sink and let out a faint hiss that was unnerving and Dumbledore didn't understand, but assumed it was some type of command to open.
With a loud, scraping noise, the top of the sinks slid to the side and the stone parted, revealing a tunnel that went downward.
"You told me there was a tunnel," Dumbledore looked down and inspected it, "I almost believed it was just youthful embellishment in you second year, but that does not appear to be the case."
Harry grunted an acknowledgement, glancing up at him.
"I'll go first. I also put some cushioning charms at the bottom."
With that, Harry Potter jumped down and disappeared from sight.
Dumbledore sighed after he waited a few seconds, narrowing his eyes at the dark pit.
"Let it be known that I do not think this was a wise design choice." He said aloud, shutting his eyes and stepping forward.
Every instinct yelled at him not to, but he jumped a bit and went hurtling down into the shaft, tucking in his arms as everything spun.
After a white knuckle inducing several seconds, Dumbledore felt himself exit the tunnel and free fell.
Using a hovering charm on himself, he prevented himself from hitting the ground, preferring to slowly glide down instead of landing on his feet, even if there were cushioning charms.
He spotted Harry standing a few yards away as his feet touched the ground.
"I question Salazar's mental faculties if he found that to be an acceptable entrance design." Dumbledore gave a pointed look at Harry, who just shrugged in response.
"The actual entrance is this way." Harry pointed at the narrow corridor that ran through the debris from the cave in, the teen walking through it slowly.
Dumbledore followed him and walked gingerly through the cleared pathway, his eyes tracing the walls for signs of anymore structural instability.
When none presented themselves, Dumbledore quickened his pace to catch up to Harry, his long legs making it quite easy.
The soft click of his boots against the stone floor was the only thing heard as they reached what Dumbledore assumed was the destination; a vault door built into the wall was clearly the entrance, seven different locks in it.
"A marvelous design." Dumbledore wasn't the most well versed in vault designs, but he could faintly feel the slight hum of very potent charms and spells put on the door.
Harry stepped forward and cleared his throat, hissing in Parseltongue.
Dumbledore frowned at the unpleasant sensation that crawled up his spine once more from the sound, his attention mostly being drawn to the clack emanating from the door.
With the sound of metal sliding across metal, the snake lock slithered across the locks, opening them up with a concerning amount of noise.
The vault door swung open and revealed the Chamber of Secrets to Albus Dumbledore for the first time.
The first thing he saw robbed his breath from him, a faint gasp escaping him.
"Dear Merlin." He managed to get out faintly, spotting the colossal remains of the Basilisk.
To think that his school, the place he was charged to protect and the students he was compelled to safeguard, were at risk from this beast for years.
Only to be slain by a twelve year old boy.
"Words cannot describe how grateful I am for what you have done, Harry," Dumbledore slowly walked towards center of the Chamber, his boots lightly touching the marble floor, "Why must you have been burdened?" He turned towards the teenager that deserved nothing that he had experienced.
"Why were you, professor?" Harry asked in response, his eyes closing slowly as he took a deep breath, "Why did you have to fight Grindelwald and protect Britain when Voldemort rose to power?"
Dumbledore, even after decades of thinking those exact questions, fell short of an answer. Had someone of sterner spirit been gifted with his intellect and raw power, perhaps thousands of lives may have been saved.
"That has eluded me for nearly 50 years, Harry." Dumbledore replied, turning away from the basilisk corpse. "But now, I must explain what I believe this Diadem is, and the method Voldemort used to maintain his life."
With the Horcrux in Harry's scar gone, and his Occlumency very impressive for a boy of 15, Dumbledore decided that Harry not only was responsible enough with the knowledge, but he also needed to know.
And so, Dumbledore told Harry what the diary was, and what the Diadem was.
Dumbledore couldn't bring himself to tell Harry that a fragment of Voldemort's soul had been residing in him though. That was something he could tell later, after a sufficient amount of time after Harry had been seriously injured by one.
Once Dumbledore finished the unsavory details of Voldemort's desire to live forever, the old man watched closely at Harry's reaction to see any glimpse of panic or emotional turmoil.
The flat expression on the teen's face was easily noticeable as him using Occlumency to calm his reaction, which prompted Dumbledore to speak again.
"Did Sirius explain the dangers of using Occlumency to control particularly negative emotions?" He asked pointedly.
Harry nodded stiffly, shutting his eyes momentarily.
"I just need a moment," He mumbled, turning to look at the mouth of the statue of what Dumbledore presumed to be Salazar Slytherin, "Slytherin's study is in the mouth... and I saw a flash of where one is, I think."
Under normal circumstances, Dumbledore would have been pressing more about his concerns over Harry's visions of what were presumably other Horcruxes, but his curiosity over the accuracy of them won out.
With a minute twisting of his wrist, Dumbledore sent the Diadem a distance away from them, gesturing for Harry to go towards the mouth of the statue.
The aged headmaster followed right behind the much younger of the two of them and prepared for Harry to speak Parseltongue once more, which he did not disappoint.
The mouth slowly opened to reveal a tunnel that Harry stepped into, a silent Lumos spell illuminating the path.
Dumbledore followed, his fingers clasped around the Elder wand tightly as Harry walked with purpose towards a rather barebones room that had no flare for decoration.
No hesitation or indecisiveness was shown in Harry's steps as he went to the empty bookshelf, pressing on a specific part with his wand.
A soft click came from the shelf and the insignia of Slytherin House appeared, glowing a faint green. The shelf then opened up, revealing a small hollow section that held what looked like a locket.
"It's there." Harry whispered in an astonished tone, almost to himself.
Dumbledore stepped forward and placed his hand on Harry's shoulder.
"Stay back, Harry," He said gently, steering the boy aside for his protection, "Be on guard."
Dumbledore did exactly what he did before with the diadem, conjuring more than one water whip to grasp the Horcrux carefully and slowly walked away, gesturing for Harry to walk in front of him while the Horcrux was behind them.
The two exited the tunnel and were back in the main section of the Chamber, the two looking at each other.
"A basilisk fang will be needed to destroy it." Dumbledore stated clearly, letting the Horcrux fall to the ground gently.
Harry nodded grimly and both went to the basilisk, seeking to get a fang.
As Dumbledore looked for a suitable fang to use, he spotted an empty socket that looked like a fang had been torn away and the wound cauterized, possibly from Salazar himself.
He wasn't well versed in how basilisks healed, so Dumbledore shrugged off how fresh the cauterizing looked.
A fang from the upper jaw was selected and Dumbledore cast a small cutting curse at the meaty part of where the tooth hooked into the jawbone.
The power of the Elder Wand ensured that it cut cleanly through, causing the fang to fall.
A small stream of greenish liquid oozed from the wound and Dumbledore backed away, hearing the floor sizzle and the stone begin to melt.
"A rather disturbing degree of potency." Dumbledore couldn't help but stare at the spot where the venom ate through, marvelled and unnerved by the sight in equal measure.
Sighing at the situation as a whole, Dumbledore levitated the fang towards the diadem and held it over it, turning his eyes towards Harry.
"Should something terrible occur," He warned, dreading the possibility, "Fawkes will get you out of here before me. You are far too valuable, Harry."
The teen looked ready to protest, but Dumbledore shook his head sternly.
"There will be no discussion about it. This castle has been my home before even your grandfather was born. It is my responsibility to protect Hogwarts and all who reside within its walls... no matter the cost."
Dumbledore then started hearing a faint ringing, the hairs on the back of his neck standing on end as he thought of a horrifying revelation.
The Horcrux could feel the resolve to kill it.
"To the entrance of the Chamber." Dumbledore ordered sharply, fixing Harry with a piercing gaze that drew an unadulterated look of fear from the boy.
Without protest, Harry quickly moved to the other end of the Chamber, leaving Dumbledore with the diadem.
Without fanfare or any such nonsense, Dumbledore focused on modifying the levitation charm he put on the fang and jabbed downward with his wand, causing it to strike the diadem with a loud *ting*.
The bloodcurdling scream that echoed throughout the Chamber nearly brought the aged headmaster to his knees, his ears ringing horribly.
A cloud of disgusting, black smoke billowed from the Diadem as the screeching continued, shooting towards Dumbledore.
A swift slash of his wand caused a golden shield to appear in front of him, taking the impact with a loud boom that he could feel the concussive force of.
The inky, black smoke lost its shape and started to dissipate, until it finally disappeared.
It was eerily quiet in the Chamber now, his ears ringing from what just happened.
Letting out a shuddering breath, Dumbledore let his wand lower and readjusted his spectacles, his fingers shaking slightly.
The evil that radiated from the Horcrux's destruction made him feel dirty from just being near it. He thanked whatever good fortune enabled him to not use Fiendfyre on top of the dark nature of the Horcrux.
"H-harry." Dumbledore cursed internally at how unsettled his voice sounded from what just occurred. "Everything is fine, just a bit surprised."
Harry slowly walked back towards him and looked at him curiously, concerned mixed in as well.
"That was... I don't even know what to say."
"Neither do I." Dumbledore agreed with what Harry said, also at a loss.
This isn't even the only one. Dumbledore thought darkly, gripping his wand tightly.
Another needed destroyed.
"The other must suffer the same fate," Dumbledore walked briskly towards the fang, seeing that the tip was stained black, "And not a moment too soon." His blue eyes flicked towards the shattered remnants of the diadem.
"Such a waste." He muttered, levitating the fang and going over to the locket.
"Professor." Harry cut in, causing the man to pause. "I don't know why, but I feel like the locket needs opened."
Dumbledore raised a brow at the boy, thinking of why he would think that.
Him putting on the diadem made him see where the locket was, so a faint niggling feeling could potentially be a partial memory or experience he felt.
"How would it be opened?" Dumbledore asked, but he already knew the answer based upon who originally owned the locket.
"Parseltongue, I think." Harry said quietly, confirming Dumbledore's suspicion.
"Then we best do what is needed to destroy it." Dumbledore steeled himself and fixed Harry with a commanding look. "Speak in Parseltongue to open it and I will destroy it."
Harry looked profoundly worried, his face more pale than ever. It made Dumbledore wonder why now of all times would be the worst.
Dumbledore got in position and Harry knelt next to the locket, his eyes flicking up at the fang.
Since he knew what to expect, Dumbledore was far more prepared.
"On three." Dumbledore said, his will and magic as sharp and in sync as ever as he counted down."
This would not be the end, but it would be progress.
At three, Harry let out a faint his, the locket clicking open.
Inside was a singular eye, a shade of dark that perfectly matched Tom Riddle's before rituals had taken their toll on his handsome features.
Right as he was about to flick his wand to stab the center, what felt like an extremely potent Legilimency probe struck him and a lance of pain went through his head, causing him to miss the locket.
Dumbledore's teeth nearly bit down into his tongue as he fought the pain in his head, avoiding an outburst.
Harry was not so lucky and let out a scream of pain as he clutched his head, rolling away from the locket as he fumbled for his wand.
"Why, Albus?!" A voice that haunted him demanded, his breath quickening as smoke billowed from the locket that formed into an image of Arianna.
"No," He closed his eyes, the pounding in his head excruciating, "You are not real."
Focus, damnit. It is an illusion.
But how would Tom know of this? A traitorous voice whispered in his mind.
"How many died because you lack conviction, Albus?" Another hauntingly familiar face appeared, the mismatched eyes of Gellert Grindelwald boring into his own.
Dumbledore gasped and sloppily flung a shield spell up, the memories of his hours long fight with Gellert going through his head.
His sister screaming for the pain to stop. His father dying in prison. Gellert. The failures that caused thousands to die. The taste of his own blood on his tongue and the wounds he sustained when fighting Gellert.
He felt it all.
His Occlumency was useless. Somehow, the locket could see through it and into his mind.
Dumbledore gritted his teeth and fought against the despair rising up in him, but it was proving difficult.
In his peripheral, he saw Harry dive for the fang and gripped it in his fingers, crawling towards the locket.
With a hair raising shriek, a blast of darkness struck Dumbledore and sent him flying back a few feet, his back hitting the stone floor roughly.
Groaning audibly, Dumbledore blindly cast a shield charm and forced himself up, the world spinning.
He definitely fractured something, but it was manageable. After several seconds of trying to see clearly, he zeroed in on Harry, the boy shaking visibly as a silhouette of a young woman was standing above him as the fang was raised up to stab the Horcrux.
From the ringing in his ears, Dumbledore could barely hear that the voice was of a young woman, but nothing else.
The old man staggered towards Harry, seeing his face contorted in a look of pure anguish.
"It's your fault!" The voice from the illusion screamed, sounding vaguely familiar. "You killed me!"
"No. No," Harry was practically sobbing, shaking from head to toe as he tried to move forward to stab the locket, "I didn't."
Dumbledore moved as fast as his legs could carry him, but it wasn't enough.
"Just like you father." The voice radiated hatred and scorn, stalking towards Harry like a predator as he seemed transfixed at the sight, "Unable to protect anyone. Last of your family! Destined to die, friendless and ALONE!!!" The voice turned into an inhuman scream and the apparition lunged at him.
Harry practically howled as he seemed to snap out of his trance and stabbed the locket with the fang.
An explosion of inky black smoke, just like the diadem, came spewing forth from where the fang struck, a dull roar echoing throughout the Chamber.
"Harry!" Dumbledore shouted, fighting against the pain radiating from his back and twirling his wand in a distinct pattern at a blinding speed, banishing the boy aside and casting a shield in front of him and himself.
Just like before, the death twitching of the soul shard lashed out at him, smashing into his shield with enough force to form cracks throughout it.
Harry, holding his wand shakily, had managed to create a fairly sturdy shield behind the one Dumbledore made for him, the increased protection likely preventing the concussive force from affecting him.
The smoke and noise slowly bled away, a dull ring in Dumbledore's ears.
It's over. Dumbledore blinked, looking at Harry.
The boy was extremely pale, more so than even after Mr Diggory's death and the resurrection of Voldemort.
His wand slipped from his fingers as his shield disappeared and he collapsed the rest of the way to the ground, sobbing openly.
Dumbledore limped towards the despondent teen and cast a wandless numbing charm on his ribs and back, deciding to focus on something more important.
It had to have been Lily that Harry saw. Nothing could have elicited such a response. Severus had mentioned that Harry had misplaced guilt over Lily's terrible demise, but whatever the Horcrux had done bypassed their Occlumency shields somehow.
"Harry." He knelt down and whispered softly, reining in his own fragmented and delicate emotions from what he himself had experienced. "It is over now. It isn't real."
A few choked gasps escaped the boy, his frame still visibly wracked with shivers.
Dumbledore couldn't be sure how long it took, but Harry eventually gathered himself and managed to stand, albeit with some mutual assistance from the headmaster.
"Fawkes." Dumbledore whistled, thankful that he numbed his injuries, otherwise that little act would have hurt.
His familiar appeared next to him and gripped the fabric of his shoulder and flashed them back to his office, Harry in tow.
Harry staggered a bit as they arrived in Dumbledore's office, a chill clinging to him after what just happened.
The locket hadn't done that before. He couldn't understand why, nor could he understand how it saw through his Occlumency and used her as a way to hurt him.
It was almost as painful as what Nott did, but not quite.
"Sit." Dumbledore wandlessly summoned two chairs towards them, collapsing into the one on the left bonelessly.
Harry did nearly the exact same thing, letting himself fall into the chair, his head still pounding and the constant memories of that night playing in his head.
He could almost smell the blood and hear the crunch of glass underneath his feet, the feel of her hair and the glassiness of her eyes.
Stop it. Stop it. He growled internally, forcefully shunting the memories aside.
Fawkes, likely sensing the turmoil of both people inside, started singing quietly, the tranquil melody sinking into Harry's bones.
The Phoenix song drove the most painful emotions away, as well as the cold that had clung to him.
Dumbledore sighed as he also appeared rejuvenated by Fawkes' singing.
"I did not expect to destroy two of Voldemort's anchors to the world today," He admitted, shifting in the chair to sit upright, "Nor did I think the locket would fight back the way it did."
Harry involuntarily shivered at the reminder, still on edge.
"If you do not wish to share what transpired, I will not bring it up again," Dumbledore said, sounding sincere in his words, "But was the apparition of your mother?"
Harry opted out of saying anything. He definitely was not going to answer truthfully, but he doubted he could come up with a convincing lie like he had earlier with the diadem and supposed visions of other Horcruxes. His mind was frayed from what happened and he just wanted to pass out.
Dumbledore looked to take his silence as his answer, nodding sadly.
"There are things, tragic things, that tend to haunt us in our later years." Dumbledore said quietly, adjusting his spectacles. "I pray you are not afflicted with them as I am."
A proper response eluded Harry, no ideas on what to say coming to him.
"You," Dumbledore paused right as he spoke, closing his eyes for a moment and wincing, "spoke of other places and objects you saw. What were they?"
Harry gave a flat and monotone response on what he saw, not having enough mental energy to handle an intense discussion.
And judging by Dumbledore blinking rather quickly and his brow creasing at times, he wasn't either.
"If it is not too... presumptive." Dumbledore said delicately, dying Harry worriedly, "Would you mind if I checked the state of your mental defenses? Whatever the Horcrux did, it somehow bypassed every defense either of us had against conventional Legilimency."
Harry had already felt them to see if they were damaged.
They weren't.
"I already checked them like I learned how to." Harry replied listlessly. "I don't want someone else in my head right now."
It was too much right now. He needed to get out of the office and check the map. He needed to see Daphne's name, make sure she was alright.
"I need to sleep, professor." Harry rubbed at his face and took his glasses off for a moment, pushing his hair back some.
"Sleep will be good for the both of us." Dumbledore nodded, standing up from his chair, "We will speak about other possible locations later, as well as a plan to acquire them. But I will be making my way to Poppy for what I believe are three fractured ribs." The old man gingerly maneuvered around the chair and set his hand on Harry's shoulder.
"No words can describe the bravery you showed down in the Chamber, Harry. Just as I spoke of all that you have endured at your age, another decided to rear its head."
Harry accepted the compliment silently, not letting his actual thoughts be known.
Ron had shown just as much bravery when he destroyed it. Even if he did it this time, Harry knew that this feat belonged rightfully to one Ronald Weasley.
"Someone else can have the glory." He muttered, not meeting Dumbledore's gaze. "I'll be fine with a quiet life."
The aged headmaster let out a subdued chuckle, stepping away from him.
"An interesting life seldom evades people that are touched as we are." Dumbledore said ruefully, a groan coming from him as something that wasn't supposed to make noise let out a crackling pop. "I must get to Madam Pomfrey. Fawkes can take to the entrance of your common room."
Harry gave a grateful nod and looked up at the Phoenix, the red and gold bird hopping off his perch and gliding towards him.
Fawkes snagged his sleeve with his talons and flashed him in front of the Fat Lady's portrait, promptly flashing away.
It took a moment, but Harry adjusted to the change of scenery well enough.
"Oh, goodness me," The portrait exclaimed, covering her mouth in shock, "A little warning would have been appreciated, young man."
"Sorry." Harry apologized, "I'll try not to do that again."
He then gave the password, not wanting to delay.
The entrance swung open and he hastily made his way in, schooling his features to reflect how genuinely exhausted he was.
A few students were milling about, Ron by the fireplace as he was going over what looked to be wand movements for Charms.
"Hey, Harry." He paused his movements, the redhead waving at him to come over.
"No," Harry shook his head, still walking along, "I need to sleep."
Ron's face fell, but he looked understanding and nodded, going back to what he was doing.
It obviously got to Ron how caustic Harry had been to him over the summer. He was actively studying without Hermione pestering him and was doing better at the DA meetings.
Harry got up the steps and immediately went to his trunk, unlocking it with a flick of his hand and pulling out the Map.
"I solemnly swear that I am up to no good." He said the password, pressing his wand against it.
The masterpiece his father and his friends made activated and his eyes went straight to the dungeons, the letters that formed into the name Daphne Greengrass setting him at ease.
Harry got into his bed and closed the blinds, gazing at the subtly moving bit of the map that showed Daphne was in her room, Tracey there as well.
Was it odd and more than a bit weird for him to be monitoring her like this? Yes, definitely. But he needed the reassurance that she was alright. The locket, and moreso what he saw, opened up a wound that had only recently started to close.
The Horcrux knew exactly what his greatest fear was and exploited it.
You owe me, Dumbledore. Harry thought coldly, flexing his fingers on his left hand some.
He could have easily destroyed them himself with Fiendfyre. He had managed to cast it and control it weeks before he... came back, so to speak. Doing that would have been easier, but then Dumbledore would not have been made aware of other locations and would not have been prepared for the ring either.
Dumbledore needed to live. Harry couldn't stand to go on the run like last time. Daphne and his friends needed protecting, and Dumbledore was one of the most skilled and powerful men in history. Britain needed him for what lay ahead.
But it still doesn't make what I had to do less painful. Harry sighed, honestly wondering whether all he had been through had driven him at least a bit mad.
Only a special type of lunatic would set himself on fire to sell a lie.
Staring at the sight of Daphne's name on the parchment, Harry hoped he made the right choice by crafting the ruse surrounding the diadem and how he could know where the others were. A dream that was stolen from him was offered to him once more, and who couldn't bear to part with it ever again.
Tomorrow would be when he met Sirius in person again, followed by a meeting and dinner with the rest of the Greengrass family.
Sighing as he forced himself to look away from the map, Harry closed it with the deactivation phrase and closed it up, putting it back in the trunk before laying back down.
Sleep would elude Harry Potter for some time. Even after the rest of his dorm called it an evening and went to sleep, it took him time to let the soft embrace of rest envelope him, his thoughts that of a future he longer for.
End Chapter:
I know it took way too long to get this chapter out. Over three months. Issues with scoping out portions of the plot were exasperated by other real life issues and made it take some time. For context, the last half was written over the last several days, with the last third of this being written in about 4 hours, while the rest was piecemeal parts since December.
But, it's out now and a couple things occur. Harry's meeting with his sort of in laws is next chapter, even though I said it would be this one previously, and a plan comes to fruition for him.
Dumbledore gets brought into the fold on the location of Horcruxes and shares significant amounts of information with Harry.
I debated on having something as emotion heavy as what I did with the Horcruxes and Harry doing what he did, but I couldn't see Dumbledore making drastic changes to what his approach would have been when going after the ring unless he was sufficiently rattled by the destruction of one, let alone two.
It was premeditated by Harry, specifically the burning himself part. It's kind of harsh, but someone as sharp as Dumbledore, and Harry knows this, would have felt that something was off about Harry's story if he hadn't covered his bases like he did.
But, anyway, I'll leave it at that. It's late now, I didn't fatten the last parts with a paragraph or sentence here and there, and I don't care. I finally got this chapter out and am ready to sleep.
I hope you enjoy and have a wonderful day.
Raging.