I don't own Harry Potter.
Some people have asked me why Harry hasn't dealt with the horcruxes yet. Well, I'm hoping this chapter and the next two will put paid to Voldemort for good and will deal with consequences to come.
In the meantime, enjoy.
The Treasure Hunter.
He could feel rage. Emotions were spiralling out of control. He saw himself lifting up his arm, only it was not his arm - this arm was skeletally thin, small and stumpy like an infant's arm - and points his wand at the small cowering balding little man who resembled a rat.
"CRUCIO!"
Harry woke up like a shot, sweating from the vision he'd had while he sat up; he didn't know what the hell Pettigrew had even done to deserve that round of torture at the hands of Voldemort, but he didn't care. Gasping for breath while he tried hard to block the pain in his scar, Harry pulled his knees up to his chin and rocked back and forth. He momentarily wondered why none of his dorm mates had come to investigate, which was the last thing he needed, but then he remembered that he'd warded his bed with a rune cluster to stop anyone bothering him if he woke them up.
Dismissing the thought, Harry went back to wondering more about the vision he'd had, but he decided its meaning didn't matter. He didn't care if Wormtail paid the price for his treachery. He didn't even give a damn about what beef Voldemort had now.
The horcrux in his head needed to go.
It was his own fault for letting it stay in his mind for so long since he had discovered by accident the presence of the thing in his scar, but between the Tournament and finding a date for the Yule Ball, Harry had been too busy to really focus on the horcrux and he'd partly forgotten it.
Bad move.
The good news was it wouldn't take him long to set up the ritual; once he had the ingredients for the potion required then it could be made in a matter of hours. He already had some of the potion ingredients. The druids and the Ancient Egyptian wizards had come up with their own variants for conducting a ritual to get rid of horcruxes, but they had based it on a potion. Harry was using the Egyptian variety; it was easier and simpler and it didn't need any kind of additional magical power, like a magical night to make it work.
Horcruxes were pieces of the soul created to grant immortality, but while the people who'd come up with the theory for them had believed slicing their souls in half would provide a ghoulish form of immortality, they had failed to realise that it was based on a false premise. Instead of providing immortality, the life span of a witch or wizard who created the thing would find their life span slashed in half.
While the creation of the horcrux was accredited to Herpo the Foul, a nasty dark wizard, the truth was horcruxes and the theory behind them had been around for centuries. Whenever someone experimented with necromancy and soul magic, they saw a way of gaining immortality through the use of cutting the soul into two. The Ancient Egyptians had discovered the method and some saw it as a means for extending the life span of a pharaoh or a wizard in that country. It hadn't worked when the enemies discovered the weakness.
Horcruxes had dozens of flaws.
For a start, when you created one you damaged your soul and made it unstable. But you had to protect the soul piece you'd just made. If it was destroyed, that was it. You were vulnerable. It wouldn't take much to end the life of the idiot who'd created the horcrux in the first place. You only needed to hit them with a killing curse, and the end was inevitable. That was it. Amen.
But the Ancient Egyptians and the druids had both come up with similar if different means of ending a horcrux.
The druids had created a trap where the horcrux would be viewed as a means of extending power and granting immortality following the death of Morgana Le Fay and the disappearance of Merlin. They had seen many wizards try to step into their place to fill the vacuum, and they had understandably been nervous they would disturb the peace. So they had come up with an imaginative and deadly trap. They put out enough information about the soul and how to split it, and how it would grant immortality.
Quite a number fell for it, and the druids had taken the soul fragments and taken them to sacred shrines where the magic of the horcruxes was drained, and the wizard or the witch who'd created them died out. The druids' actions had ensured the balance of power was preserved and with so many evil wizards and witches dead, they had given the land of Albion the time it needed to form a new magical government to maintain order and control.
The Egyptian method was similar but different. The Egyptians had used centuries of time to study the soul magic which went into the creation of horcruxes, and they had discovered a potion that was easy to brew and since the Egyptians had based so much of their magical knowledge on potion and runic magic, it was inevitable they would have created a ritual.
But both rituals were very similar, and required the use of an inanimate object to contain the magic of the soul fragments.
Harry knew that his mother would have performed the ritual herself when she discovered the horcruxes and their existence, but she hadn't had access to any of Voldemort's horcruxes to make the ritual work. A part of him resented the fact Lily's duties and her commitment to the Order had made it impossible for her to track one of them down, and do it.
Then again, there had been the risk of Dumbledore meddling, although Harry wasn't sure if the old fool would have done that if he had known what Lily was up to.
He liked to think Dumbledore wouldn't, that he would see that Lily was doing more to end the war than any other member of the Order, including himself but if his thoughts about Dumbledore's personality was right on the money, then Harry wondered if his mother might have found herself with her memories wiped.
But he decided not to dwell on that idea, and Harry turned his mind over to the task ahead of him. So, he had a means of ending Voldemort. The potion brewing process was easy to do, the recipe was simple although he would need to go out and steal some of the ingredients, but he had the majority already. He could commit the theft tomorrow night, and he would begin the potion brewing. It would only take a couple of days, and in that time he would make the final preparations.
The only thing he didn't like about the ritual in question was the aftermath. Ideally, the wizard who'd created the horcrux would have their magic drained into a larger magical artefact, but luckily there was another way of getting rid of them. All you needed to do was hit the vessel with a killing curse, and Voldemort would be dead. And since the Dark wizard had branded his followers with the Dark Mark, it was likely they would also die or become muggles when their own magic was drained.
Harry didn't know nor did he care.
X
Getting out of the castle proved to be sinfully easy; even with the Triwizard Tournament, getting out using the portals was simple in itself. Knowing precisely what hour the apothecary closed up, Harry snuck out of the castle using one of the portals that dropped him off really close to the village which cut down a large amount of the time he would otherwise have taken up using one of the passageways and secret exits into the castle.
Once he was out of the portal, Harry quickly took a moment to cast a disillusionment charm and he headed for the village. When he arrived at the apothecary, Harry found the shop still open although it was only full of last-minute customers browsing the already prepared potions and perusing the jars of foul-smelling ingredients.
The Hogsmeade apothecary was slightly larger than the one in Diagon Alley; the magical shopping district was squeezed tightly into a finite space, with all of the buildings attached. While the magical world could create things bigger on the inside, in practice they only reserved it for trunks and tents, so the shops in Diagon Alley had to make do with the limited space they had. Harry had never understood that. In contrast, the apothecary in Hogsmeade was a detached building like all the others, and thanks to the larger storage and selling spaces available the place felt more like an ASDA than a little newsagent.
Making sure that there were no wards that could cancel the disillusionment charm and relieved there weren't, Harry slowly walked to the part of the shop where the rarer and more expensive potion ingredients were. His trip took him close to the ready-brewed potions on the stock. There were two witches there. One of them was one of the staff, Harry recognised her from previous Hogsmeade weekends when he'd taken the opportunity to stock up his supplies of ingredients while the second was a stranger.
The seller was holding up a stoppered bottle. "Here we go, Miranda. One bottle of infant grade sleeping potion."
Miranda took it gratefully. The witch was only a few years older than Harry, but her haggard expression made her appear older. "Thanks, Liz. I owe you one," she muttered thankfully as she took the bottle. "I've been desperate to get my hands on this for hours."
Liz chuckled. "Don't mention it, girl. Just add it to the tab."
The two witches shared a quick and brief laugh, but Miranda shook her head. "No, I'm serious. I do owe you one for putting up with me for coming here all the time-."
"Don't go there, Miranda. We're friends, and we always will be."
But Miranda seemed to be drawn into self-doubt and pity. "I wish I could brew these potions by myself instead of relying on an apothecary. No offence."
"None taken. If people didn't need pre-made potions, we'd lose a lot of our business. Unfortunately, it's become a trend," Liz was grim-faced as she said that.
"Let me guess," Miranda's eyes, already haggard and showing her clear exhaustion, were made even sharper as she regarded her friend seriously. "Snape?"
"Don't mention that Death Eater to me. You're not the only person who's suffering after graduating from Hogwarts, Miranda. Dozens of former students are relying on apothecaries run by people who learnt about potions from people like Slughorn are barely able to brew a potion thanks to that bastard's venomous attitude. I had heard about him myself when I attended Hogwarts, and my parents made sure I studied potions thoroughly before I even had my first lesson under him, and I am thankful to Merlin that they had taken that trouble. I brewed my first potion and, well, you know what Snape is like. He hates the other houses and makes no secret of it, and he deliberately smashes finished potions to the floor to make his precious Slytherins feel better about themselves. He knocked my potion to the ground after seeing I'd brewed it right."
Miranda was staring at Liz in sympathy. "I remember. I was there, and I saw what he did. Why does he get away with it?"
"Dumbledore," Liz said at once. "Snape is supposedly a former Death Eater who fulfilled Dumbledore's belief in redemption, and the old fool bought it hook, line, and wand. That garnered Snape the old idiot's trust, and because Dumbledore's trust is so absolute, he will just likely make excuses about people he claims to trust even if they commit a terrible crime right in front of him."
Any respect Miranda might have had for Dumbledore had obviously died a long time ago, Harry could see from where he was hiding the haggard young mother had likely respected the old wizard a long time ago but over the years it had just faded away. "I know. Dumbledore also sees every kind of bullying as a prank, and the teachers are useless. Remember, I tried to get McGonagall to do something about a few Slytherin bullies and Snape after he humiliated me in Potions. She did nothing."
So, they're former Gryffindors and they've experienced McGonagall's thoughtless lack of care. Interesting…
Just as the thought entered his head, Harry heard the two witches continue their conversation. "Liz, I heard from the Daily Prophet how Harry Potter was nearly burnt to death and how McGonagall and Dumbledore are now in trouble, and that Hogwarts is becoming a disgrace. Do you think anything will come out of it?"
Liz's expression became thoughtful and serious. "Well, I've read those same stories myself. The bigotry Beauxbatons and Durmstrang has gotten in their faces has embarrassed Britain as well, so it's likely going to do something, especially if Fudge is pushed into a corner. We both know that idiot will sell his own family to avoid bad publicity. But Dumbledore is naive, not stupid. He's likely calling in every favour he has to keep himself in that school, but if it gets Snape and some of the worst teachers out and replaces them with better teachers then I'm all for it."
"Why hasn't anyone done anything about Snape or some of the worst teachers in that school in the first place?" Miranda couldn't understand this, and Harry wondered if her fatigue was clouding her mind.
The same thought seemed to occur to Liz. "What, a school headed by a man as politically powerful and connected like Albus Dumbledore, the wizard who defeated Grindelwald and was said to be the only wizard You-Know-Who feared? Dumbledore would never permit an investigation into the running of his school. He has far too much power. But the public loves Harry Potter, and the louder their voices are the more the Ministry will get involved, but I don't know if what has happened so far will have any more effect."
Harry's invisible face frowned at the statement. He hadn't really paid much attention to what was being said about Dumbledore or the school although he knew the old man was keeping Snape on a very short leash to stop himself from being kicked out.
"It may not have any kind of effect, Miranda. You know Dumbledore's got dozens of powerful friends. There might be some change, but how long would it be before Dumbledore does something to quietly bury it all?"
The two women chatted a bit more, and they headed off, talking all the way. Harry stayed where he was, reflecting on what he had just heard. To say he was pleased people were up in arms about Dumbledore, and his harmful policies was an understatement. It was just too bad the old man was simply too obtuse to see it for himself, but really Dumbledore made it too easy for people to disrespect him.
Hearing how Snape had caused as much damage as he had people had to rely on apothecaries wasn't a surprise; he had known the effects Snape's so-called 'teaching style' on the population of Britain was terrible. But as Harry thought about it and how those two witches were hopeful Dumbledore could be kicked out of the school and yet prepared for the worst, he realised his approach to the problem was the wrong idea.
Originally his plan was to simply sit it out and watch the fireworks; he'd done it to protect himself and stop the old wizard and anyone else from paying more attention to himself than he would like. But truthfully, he had the Triwizard Tournament and his future plans to think about, bringing down someone like Albus Dumbledore was not on his to-do list.
But, like with the horcrux, Harry had the epiphany. It struck him in the head so hard he was amazed he hadn't thought of it before. He might not be able to bring down Dumbledore, but he could do a great deal of damage to the old wizard's reputation. Harry shook his head, not completely dismissing the idea, but pushing it to one side. He would think about it later when he had dealt with the horcruxes and Voldemort completely.
Right now, he settled himself at the back of the shop, and he started to steal the ingredients. Even under the disillusionment charm, Harry went carefully about his business.
By the time the shop was about to close, Harry had the ingredients safe and sound. Stepping out into the street, Harry jumped when he heard an alarm coming from the doorway behind him. Later he would realise the shop had a ward that detected unpaid for merchandise leaving through the front door, but in the heat of the moment, Harry was focused on the sight of three members of staff rushing to the front door with their wands already out.
Harry fished out his broomstick out of his pocket and quickly resized it and took to the air just as the staff got out of the shop.
X
Constance turned to Liz, the two witches standing outside of the apothecary. "What in the name of Merlin was that?"
Liz didn't answer her elder sister. She slipped out her wand and cast the strongest revealing charms she knew of. Constance caught on quickly and she took out her own wand, and silently cast a lighting charm, mentally picturing the light to be incredibly strong. There was nothing. There was no sign or evidence of a thief. Liz put away her wand, letting out a mutter of disappointment but Constance didn't put away her own wand.
"A fault in the ward scheme, perhaps?" Constance continued to make theories.
Liz shrugged. "I don't know. We've never had problems with the ward scheme before."
"I'll tell dad to ask if he can get a Warder here to see if there was anything wrong." "No, I don't think there is. We get a Warder to check the scheme every month; besides, that particular ward only goes off if some of our stock leaves the store before its scanned into the stone to let it pass."
"You think someone stole something?"
"There's only one way to find out," Liz replied and she went back into the shop. She checked the ward stone, jabbing at it with her wand for a moment before she studied the findings.
Liz looked grimly into Constance's eyes, although she spotted her parents rushing towards them. "Somehow, someone has stolen several materials from our stock."
"But how?"
"Connie, Lizzie. What happened?" Their mother demanded.
"We heard the alarm go off," their father added.
"Somehow someone got into the shop, and made off with a few ingredients: Bicorn horn, mandrake leaves…most of the ingredients are Egyptian in origin; I know, I've studied some of them," Liz explained.
"Why would anyone take some of the Egyptian stock?"
Liz shook her head. "I don't know, but whoever it was, they're fast. I cast a revealing charm, but nothing showed up."
Their father looked at the stone. "Anything picked up by the wards?"
"No."
"We're going to have to address the ward scheme," Liz and Constance's mother commented worriedly. "I only hope we can do it quickly; if people realise they can sneak off with our stock-."
"I know, the one problem is there are only so many ways we can adjust the wards," Constance pointed out with a worried look towards her father, who had been silent for some time. "Any reasonably clever thief would only need to check what we've got and find a way around them."
"Did you smell anything, like really bad tobacco fumes?" Their father suddenly asked.
Liz stared at her. "No."
Their mother caught on quickly. "You mean Fletcher?"
"Yeah. I've often had to stop him and call the aurors in whenever that useless lump comes around, and his brand of cologne mixes badly with tobacco," their father growled, remembering how the little bastard had tried to break into the back storage rooms of the apothecary and the potions labs where they brewed potions to order or in bulk.
Fletcher had been trying to commit low-level line theft, knowing full well their family had been brewing potions for years and had their own spin on some of the more classic lines which made them desirable to many competitors. Potion industrial espionage was a risky business considering how families had to constantly research, research, research to stay one step ahead and if a potion recipe was compromised and they lost business because of it. There were dozens of ways of telling what a potion was brewed with, and as a result, their family had always stayed one step ahead of the curve by only releasing a few of their own versions of recipes with little change so they wouldn't be targeted.
But there were exceptions, and that was what Fletcher had wanted. Unfortunately, he had been caught; the British apothecary business had enough problems as it was, given how Severus bastard Snape and Dumbledore were causing to their business, Dumbledore with his overwhelming workload and Snape with his venomous attitude, and his belief the world owed him something when he was just another self-important wizard. But thanks to Snape, fewer potion specialists and Masters were working, and those that were were long since retired but had been hired out as tutors to try to repair the damage Snape had caused, and try to keep up with the demand for new aurors, healers, and professions that required potions desperately. What Dumbledore was playing at, Merlin only knew.
He had wondered how long it would be for Snape to be dealt with, but with each year, his worries grew each year.
"Dad, what if it wasn't Fletcher?" Constance asked.
"Then it was someone else," he sighed and rubbed his face. It was late and they were tired. "I'll call the Warders tomorrow morning. In the meantime, I think we should all get to bed."
