The Treasure Hunter.
As he watched the bubbling concoction within the large cauldron seethe and react with the simple vase he had selected for the ritual, Harry couldn't believe that it was so nearly over and what an idiot he had been for not even getting rid of the horcruxes long before now. He had already made peace with the fact he had been preparing for the Triwizard events, but it was hardly any excuse.
Well he was dealing with it now. With luck, today he would finally end Voldemort's existence. Harry had no idea how long it would be before people noticed something was wrong, but since there would be a massive burst of magic and the Death Eaters would soon lose their own magic, he guessed it wouldn't take long before people took stock.
With luck, whatever form Voldemort was using would die - he knew Voldemort had some kind of rudimentary body that was capable of casting spells with a wand; he had seen it happen in those visions - and when the Ministry discovered it, they would confirm Voldemort's final end provided Fudge wasn't stupid enough to deny it.
With luck, the Death Eaters would lose their magic and finally pay for their crimes. Harry didn't feel the least bit sorry for them. He had never understood why the Death Eaters and so many other people had swallowed Voldemort's philosophy, but they were trying to create a pureblood only world.
Idiots.
Couldn't the Death Eaters see that Voldemort didn't care about them or their stupid beliefs? If they won, how long would it be before Voldemort revealed his true colours to them, and began to wipe out the purebloods? Would they even be prepared for a fight back? Harry neither knew nor did he care, but he pictured the aftermath easily enough.
Voldemort's younger self had admitted he saw himself as the greatest sorcerer in the world, and considering Riddle's almost Nazi-like attitude to life itself, there was only one sick way of doing that.
Voldemort believed the only way he could win, and become immortal, and become the greatest wizard in the world would be if he totally and utterly destroyed all life on the planet.
Well, he wouldn't let it happen. Using his wand to gently push the vase deeper into the mixture, Harry was thankful the Egyptians and the druids of old had made this as simple as possible, but magic was all about experimentation if you looked at it.
When he was positive the vase had been properly saturated with the magic of the potion, Harry levitated it out of the cauldron and placed it gently on the table nearby. The vase was steaming as it was covered with the thick potion.
Harry let out a low breath, bracing himself for the spell and he uttered the Ancient Egyptian incantation. The magic of the spell reached out and went in every direction. He felt his magic flow around the room as it exploded in all directions, the magic seeking out the soul pieces. He closed his eyes and hid a smirk when he felt the scar be the first soul piece be touched by the spell. He felt a tugging sensation before a blinding pain as the spell none too gently yanked and ripped the horcrux out of his forehead.
Harry yelled in pain as the horcrux struggled and resisted the pull, but it was simply futile and the more the horcrux resisted the spell's efforts it tugged harder as it worked to undo the horcrux's hold on to its unwilling host. Finally it was gone. Harry opened his eyes, blinking his eyes as they were watery with pain.
The scar horcrux dealt with, Harry felt his magic find two other soul fragments. In his mind, a giant snake, the same kind of enormous snake that was so abnormally large and the same one Harry had seen in the visions of Voldemort recently. Harry didn't know who the unfortunate victim was who had been killed to divide what was left of Voldemort's soul for that horcrux, but it was academic now.
The snake horcrux was not the only horcrux implanted in a biological vessel - Harry guessed Voldemort had always had that in mind, but he couldn't help but think that despite Voldemort's brilliance and his expertise, he was just still bonedead stupid.
What if the snake had died during the procedure? Oh well, that question was academic now. In his mind's eye, Harry saw the diadem horcrux and an ornate cup. When he opened his eyes, he heard a strange screaming sound, and he grinned when he saw the two soul fragments appear, screaming threats at him when the chunk of intelligence still in them realised what he was doing to them, but they flew into the vase so they weren't a threat. The vase glowed and shuddered before it went still.
The procedure took half an hour, and the longer it went on the harder it was for Harry to remain standing upright and focus. He had been able to hold back the urge to simply drop to the ground and sleep off the drain to his magic through sheer willpower alone. He was constantly telling himself I have to keep doing this to end Voldemort for good.
But regardless, the seconds that ticked by and became minutes depleted his strength. His vision was beginning to blur. The final soul piece was the main piece of Voldemort's soul, and he flew in screaming in pain as he was dragged towards the vase. Later on when he remembered the whole thing, Harry would reflect on how tattered Voldemort's soul was, but right then Harry just watched him in a detached manner.
The soul piece yelled threats, demanding to know what was happening, and how it was Lord Voldemort and it will not die, stuff like that. Harry didn't react to the empty threats. There was nothing the fragment could do while trapped in the grip of the spell, and so it went into the specially prepared vase.
At last it was over. Harry staggered backwards as the exhaustion finally set in before everything went dark.
X
When Harry woke up he found himself very tired and groggy, but it wasn't long before it passed. Once it had, Harry checked his watch and he realised he'd been asleep for over 4 hours. With a sigh Harry stood up and walked over to the nearby desk where he had a backpack waiting. Reaching inside Harry pulled out a sandwich box. Munching on the ham and tomato sandwiches lightly and taking a sip out of the water bottle, Harry felt his strength return and he became clearheaded. He must have become dehydrated and malnourished, but after a while he felt better.
It was just hard for him to believe it so nearly over, and as he ate his meal - he would really need to get his brain back onto school time later. He had always tried to stop himself from attracting Dumbledore's attention, but at this point the outcome would make it worth it. Harry lifted his gaze and stared at the vase which contained the fragments of Voldemort's soul. It was hard to believe something so harmless contained such evil. Voldemort was truly sick in the head to create so many of the damn things, and insane.
Now all he had to do was destroy it. Harry had already decided to use the killing curse. While he would have preferred to use fiendfyre, he was realistic enough to know he wasn't experienced enough to use that dangerous spell; it took enormous amounts of control to use that spell, it was lethal and besides he didn't want to alert Dumbledore or any of the other teachers of what he was doing.
The killing curse it was.
While it would have been nice to be completely sure the Voldemort vase was completely destroyed and more practical, he knew the killing curse would be perfect nonetheless.
Once he had finished eating, Harry stood up and walked over to the vase. It was hard to imagine that the vase contained Voldemort's soul; while he could understand Voldemort's stupidity, he could not understand what Dumbledore had hoped to achieve by doing nothing. He still didn't know if Dumbledore didn't know of this method of disposing of horcruxes, but he couldn't help but think Dumbledore had no desire to destroying Voldemort like that.
Harry sighed and picked up his wand and stepped back. "AVADA KEDAVRA!"
The curse struck the vase, just as the door burst open.
"STOP! WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!" Dumbledore demanded, his wand outstretched.
