Harry didn't bother with the Great Hall the next morning. He had barely gotten any sleep and had just given it up as a bad job altogether when he saw the colour of the sky begin to change from inky black to inky blue outside his hangings. He stopped by the kitchens and convinced the elves to give him a quick sandwich that he could eat while walking. It was gone before he hit the third floor, never mind the seventh where the entrance to the Room of Requirement was.

Pacing back and forth in front of the familiar stretch of wall, Harry focused on needing a room where he could find a horcrux or Ravenclaw's Diadem. When the Room obligingly formed a door, Harry paused mid-stride and just stared at it for a moment. There's no way it's actually that easy right?

He opened the door and took a look inside. He immediately felt his heart lodge somewhere near his ankles. Called it.

Harry opened the door a little further and stepped into a room filled with piles upon piles of junk. The columns of discarded items rose up towards a cathedral-like ceiling. For fuck's sake… how am I supposed to find anything in here? It looks like Dudley's second bedroom, except that it's a dozen times larger than the whole bloody house.

The way Helena had ended her conversation with him told Harry that it was unlikely that he was going to get another hint from her before he'd actually destroyed that damn diadem.

So I need a plan. What do I know about this horcrux that'll help me find it?

Well, it's a horcrux, so if I get close enough I'm likely to feel that wave of cold in my mind again. Except that walking around randomly, it will still take me ages to find it. Harry dragged his hand over his face as if he could wipe away the tension he was feeling that way. This 'thinking' lark looks so much easier when Hermione does it.

Harry eyed the piles of rubbish for a second longer before flopping down on the floor and crossing his arms as he tried to figure out the next step. What else do I know about this horcrux? It was Ravenclaw's. It's a diadem. I suppose that means it's shiny. It'd be helpful if it was gold. I'm a good enough seeker that I should at least be able to spot that glinting even if-…

I could shine a light as I walk! If it hits a piece of jewellery I'm fairly confident I'll notice the glint. Harry sat completely still as his mind raced, trying to find the flaw in his idea. There's no way something this simple would work… right? I mean if this could work then maybe…

Getting to his feet so he could dodge if something was about to go horribly wrong, Harry took out his wand. "Accio diadem." Hunched over in a tense crouch, he waited for any sign that the horcrux was flying towards him, but the Room remained silent. Guess that was a bit too simple. If you don't protect your horcrux with an Anti-Summoning Charm, are you even really trying?

As Harry stared at the detritus around him another possibility occurred. It might just not have been able to escape from wherever it's trapped under all this. If that's the case then my shine-a-light trick may turn out to be useless.

Not like I've got anything better right now. If this starts taking too long I'll clue Dumbledore in, but just running straight to his office feels like it would be betraying Helena's trust. I don't want to do that.

Squaring his shoulders in determination Harry brought his wand back up and cast "Lumos". Weaving the beam of light back and forth across the path in front of him, Harry started walking, continuously checking his occlumency for that wave of cold that signalled the presence of one of the pieces of Riddle's soul. Right. Let's go, Riddle. You're going to be a little more dead by the time I'm done with you.

Two hours later that determination began to waver. Between the size of the room, the junk that Harry was wary of touching and the prolonged concentration, he had made barely any progress and somehow still managed to exhaust himself.

I'll just take a break for lunch. He looked around for some identifying landmarks that would help him find this spot again so he didn't have to go over the same area more than once. He was just about to leave when a horrid thought occurred to him. I don't actually know that all this stuff appears in the same place each time. What if it gets moved around every time the room is configured? I know it's not here when Hermione and I have our lessons…

Shit.

Determined that he would at the very least take a break, Harry sat down on the floor and stared around him in disgust. Maybe if I left a marker and tried it out? It was a sensible idea. Harry even suspected that Hermione might approve of such a methodical plan, but a part of him just couldn't bear to have his entire morning wasted if it turned out that all the junk really did move around.

His stomach rumbling didn't help matters either. I need some food. He looked around expectantly, but no food appeared. Bugger. The Exceptions to Gamp's Law. I forgot. Should I call Kreacher? No, I'd feel bad making him run around for me. So can I find something to eat and not lose my place?

Harry wrestled with his dilemma for a moment longer before deciding that it was better to waste half a day than a whole day if he was going to waste any of it at all. Grumbling to himself he picked out a rather intricately carved bronze clock as his landmark. "Periculum." A burst of red stars shot out of his wand and hung over the clock's position.

Harry walked to the door of the room, looked over his shoulder one more time to confirm that the sparks were still there and stepped outside. In the corridor, Harry allowed the door to fade away before summoning it one more time.

Opening the new door and peeking inside, he felt his stomach lodge in shoes. Damn it all! I didn't even need the spell. That 'skyline' is completely different to the one I was just looking at. Either all that junk is rearranged randomly each time, or this door opens in a different place each time. Fuck.

Since he was going to have to start over anyway, Harry decided that it made more sense to go grab something to eat than desperately try to keep the Room in a particular configuration. This is going to take a lot longer than I expected.

:-:-:-:-:

"You cannot be serious," Hermione protested.

Harry wouldn't quite meet her eyes.

"Harry, students are forbidden from entering the Forbidden Forest. I'm quite sure about that since that's its dratted name."

"Students actually go in there all the time," Harry tried.

Hermione gave him her best glare, trying to hide the way the cold was making her shiver. "For their Care for Magical Creatures classes."

"Well, we're going in there for a class aren't we?"

Hermione opened her mouth to protest, but closed it again. She knew that she had argued frequently this year that Harry should consider their sessions to be actual classes and was acutely aware of how hypocritical it would sound to change her tune now. I need to be sure of my arguments. On the other hand, Harry has been arguing just as long that I don't have to treat him like a professor. "What brought about this change of heart, Harry? Why can't we use the Room like we always do?"

Hermione caught the slight twitch of Harry's eyes when she mentioned the Room. "Noth-"

"Don't lie to me!" Hermione realised that her voice had grown shriller than she might have liked and cleared her throat. "Don't lie to me, Harry," she repeated in a quieter voice.

Harry looked at her helplessly for a moment. "Fine. There's a significant possibility that there is something dangerous hidden in the Room and I don't feel like we should be having class there until it's gone."

"What kind of dangerous thing?" Hermione asked, but Harry was already shaking his head.

"I can't tell you, Hermione."

"Another thing that fae took away from me?" she asked, half knowing the answer already.

"Actually, no," Harry answered, surprising her. "It's- I promised Dumbledore I wouldn't tell anyone about it."

"Professor Dumbledore, Harry. He's helping you then?"

"Ah…"

Hermione felt her heart clench. "Harry James Potter, are you facing off against something extremely dangerous entirely by yourself?!"

"I can handle it," Harry said, a scowl furrowing his brow.

"Are you telling me that whatever it is, it's easier to handle without the most powerful wizard alive today?"

"Strange as this may sound: yes. Besides, he's got other things he needs to focus on."

Hermione tried to imagine what kind of danger would become less with the absence of Albus Dumbledore and came up blank. "Harry, just how would that even work?"

"Like I said, I promised I wouldn't tell anyone; not even you or Ron," Harry said apologetically. "Can you trust me that it is serious enough that I don't like the idea of us being anywhere near this danger, but that I have dealt with things like this before and know what I'm doing?"

Hermione took a deep breath. "Professor Dumbledore does know about this, right?"

"He's the one who told me all about this stuff."

Still a little uncomfortable and suspicious, Hermione consciously made a decision. "Okay. I trust you, Harry. Just- please be careful?"

Harry took her hand and brought her fingers to his lips. "I promise."

Hermione forced her nagging worries away with a firm nod. "Right. Um, that tells me why we're not in the Room, but do we have to be out in the Forest?"

"We've been talking about some dangerous creatures and today you're going to get to see some of the milder ones in a fairly controlled environment."

"Are you sure this Forest is 'controlled'?"

Harry shot her a lopsided grin. "Yeah, if you don't go too far. We'll probably be able to find some imps and pixies. There are some hinkypunks closer to the shore of the Black Lake, though I don't plan on staying here 'til dark. There are some jarveys that stay close to the edge because the students will feed them and there are a couple of red caps skulking around some of the clearings."

"Aren't red caps drawn to human blood?" Hermione asked, already knowing the answer.

"Yes, but they don't usually manage to get any from alert witches and wizards," Harry said, a stern note entering his voice.

Hermione looked at the ominous army of trees in front of her. "You'll stay with me, right?"

"Every step of the way," Harry agreed. "I'm your teacher for the next few hours, remember?"

"Yeah," Hermione said, trying to swallow past the nervousness in her throat. "You are."

"Good. Let's get started then."

For the next several hours, Hermione tramped through the woods with Harry. The tension slowly left her as Harry showed her how to navigate through the woods, pointed out several magical creatures that she had read about in her books and even found some pests for her to get some real world experience with.

By the end of the day, Hermione had almost forgotten about her anxiety regarding whatever Harry was doing. She spent all of supper telling Ron every detail of her expedition and even managed to get him to listen to most of it. She might have managed to completely forget about her earlier worries if Harry hadn't wolfed down his food and left as soon as he could. It had been difficult for Hermione to refrain from calling him back, knowing that he was walking into danger, but she managed to keep from doing anything more than giving him a lingering kiss on the cheek.

After Harry had left, Hermione's enthusiasm for talking about her time in the Forest dried up. She pushed what remained of her meal around her plate listlessly. Hermione almost jumped out of her skin when she felt a hand land on her shoulder. Looking up she found Ron eyeing her with concern.

"C'mon. We need to talk."

It was clear that her best friend had no intention of letting her wriggle out of this conversation, so Hermione reluctantly followed him out of the Great Hall and let herself get dragged into the empty Charms classroom a few floors up.

Ron carefully closed the door behind them and turned to give her an unusually pensive look. "Are you and Harry having a fight?"

"What?! No." Hermione wasn't sure what she was expecting Ron to discuss, but this hadn't figured in her list of possible scenarios.

"Okay, just thought I'd check," Ron said quickly, holding up his hands in a soothing gesture. "Since it's not a fight with Harry, what is going on with you? Are you feeling alright?"

"I'm fine, Ron."

"Uh-uh. No. You don't get to share that answer with him," Ron said shaking his head.

"Ron," Hermione warned in exasperation.

"Okay. Are you sad? Angry? In pain? Worried?"

Hermione felt her face twitch and saw realisation dawn in Ron's eyes.

"So worried. About Harry?"

Hermione glared at her friend. "Will you stop?"

"I'll take that as a yes. Anything specific? The stuff he's doing with Dumbledore?"

"Arrrgghh! Yes! Fine! I am worried about Harry," Hermione snapped, thoroughly rattled.

"Alright. Alright. Calm down," Ron said.

That deserved a look.

"What?" Ron actually looked offended. "I've been worrying about Harry for longer than you have. I think I can actually speak to this."

"Then how do you get him to stop? Or at least to let you help?"

"You tell him you're there for him and then hope that he gets over himself in time to ask you for help," Ron said sardonically. "You kinda have to wait for him to come to you."

"But he doesn't do that," Hermione said in exasperation. "It's like he thinks he's going to have to face You Know Who by himself."

Ron looked at her like she was missing the obvious. "He probably will."

"What?! Ron! We can help him."

"Not really," Ron said, shaking his head. "I know you don't remember much about You Know Who, but trust me, we're barely an annoyance to that monster."

"So we're going to put everything on Harry's shoulders?"

Ron's sigh sounded more like a growl. "Hermione, Harry has a lot of talents, but the one that matters here is that, when it comes to fighting Death Eaters and even You Know Who himself, he always finds a way to at least survive and sometimes win. The only other wizard we can say that about is Dumbledore."

"But-"

"No buts, Hermione. The aurors that know he's back might face You Know Who, but they'll expect to die according to my dad. The guy teaching us Defence is one of his supporters, even if Dumbledore trusts him."

"Harry is my Defence teacher," Hermione shot back, crossing her arms.

Ron just cocked an unimpressed eyebrow. "And he's said that you're ready to face You Know Who?"

Hermione felt some of her confidence deflate. "Not- not exactly."

"Didn't think so. Harry doesn't want to put anyone between him and You Know Who. Especially not you."

"That's- that's not fair," Hermione whined, hating the sound even as it left her mouth. "I don't want to put Harry between anyone and You Know Who either. Doesn't that count for just as much?"

For just a moment Ron looked far too understanding. "Honestly? No. Not as long as You Know Who has a very specific murder boner for Harry."

Hermione couldn't block that image out fast enough. "I will hate you forever for phrasing it like that."

Ron managed a smirk. "Not wrong though, is it?"

Hermione just growled wordlessly.

"Look, the point is that without Harry asking us we don't know if we're helping or getting in the way."

"Yes, I know: Professor Dumbledore made him promise not to tell us," Hermione grumbled.

Ron cocked an eyebrow. "That's already more than I knew."

"Oh." Hermione couldn't help but feel a little pleased that Harry had shared something with her before he had told Ron. It felt like they had reached a milestone she hadn't even been aware existed. It was soon overshadowed once more by her worry. "I just wish I knew how to get him to open up about what he's going through."

"That makes two of us."

"So… what do we do?"

"Make sure we're ready to help when he does come to us," Ron said.

Right. I can do that. I wish I had the Room available to practice in though.

:-:-:-:-:

Harry cursed under his breath. He had come up to the Room of Requirement during every spare moment he'd been able to find over two weeks and wasn't any closer to finding the horcrux than he had been the first time he'd stepped into the cathedral of rubbish the Room turned into whenever he thought of finding a hidden horcrux.

Maybe it's time to bring Dumbledore into this Harry admitted to himself. I'll tell him if I don't find it this week he decided, not wanting to look too closely at the determination he felt to solve this mystery without involving the Headmaster.

Setting his shoulders, Harry lifted his wand and cast "Lumos". He began walking as moved his wand in now familiar lazy arcs, trying not to focus on any specific point so that he'd have an easier time spotting the tell-tale glint of light on precious metal.

The movement of the light and the slow pace at which he had to walk lulled Harry into a near-trance. An intersection of three paths briefly brought him back to full alertness. Looking back and forth between the two paths he could take he decided that the left one felt vaguely familiar and resolved to take the one on the right.

Two minutes later he was walking in a stupor again.

All of a sudden he drew up in a sudden halt. Blinking, Harry slowly swept his wand light back and forth. A split-second rainbow dancing through the musty air left him feeling as if his heart had stopped beating, until with an emphatic thump it announced itself again.

Carefully picking his way around piles of rubbish, Harry tried to get closer to the reflective surface, praying that it wasn't going to be someone's broken Remembrall. He twisted his torso to move between two piles of rubbish without touching them and froze in that awkward position. There, in front of him, sitting on wig-wearing bust was a delicate, silver crown. I may not know what Ravenclaw's diadem looks like, but I'll bet all the gold in my vault that it looks just like that.

Let's get it over here then. Harry raised up his wand carefully and aimed it at the diadem. He gave it a swish and flick and said "Wingardium leviosa". Nothing happened as the horcrux refused to budge or respond in any way to Harry's spell. Okay, so you won't come over here. Guess I'll have to go over there then.

Despite his protesting muscles, Harry refused to move anything more than his head to look around the area. There's no way it's this easy. There has to be a trap, but where? He brought his wand up and cast "Specialis Revelio". The spell showed a few unused portkeys, several colour-changing robes and a mountain of prank products. Not exactly what I would expect Riddle to surround his treasure with. Then again, whatever he's done is probably beyond my ability to detect if what Dumbledore was doing last time is any indication. At least I know that there are a few troublesome items in the mess around here but unless Fred and George have made a horcrux that's probably not what I need to watch out for.

Harry backed off a bit and looked through the piles of junk that sat a little before the diadem's little clearing. He spotted some pawns from a wizarding chess set and levitated them ahead of him. Returning to the diadem, Harry flung the pawns into the area around the bust. Nothing happened.

That's all I can manage without Dumbledore here for backup. For a moment Harry debated going to get the Headmaster. No. I'll have a devil of a time finding this place again. I have to act now.

He edged forward, his senses on a hair trigger for anything that might attack him. He was almost clear of the stacks of rubbish when he felt something snap against his ankle. Looking down he saw a single blond hair that his step had snapped in two. Shit!

Looking up, Harry's vision was filled with a large amount of blond hair, twisted together into a large tentacle heading straight for his face. He flung himself away, landing painfully on his back as the tentacle whipped the air above him with a loud crack. Harry flung his wand up and yelled out "Incendio!"

Flames leapt from his wand and rushed for the wig. Seconds later they were batted out by several more twisted skeins of hair that unfurled into more tentacles. That might have made it angry.

Harry didn't have long to think about it. He had only gotten his feet halfway under himself as several more whips of hair shot towards him. "Diffindo!" he cried out dropping back down.

His steel blue spell hit the wig without doing the slightest bit of damage. Harry felt an unnaturally cold fur wrap around his neck and start to squeeze. He reached up with one hand to try and pry himself free, but a second coil of hair snaked forward and tied that hand awkwardly to his neck so that it could no longer pull at the increasingly tight hold on his throat.

Feeling panic rise up inside of him, Harry called on every last scrap of ability he had in occlumency and focused on only one thing. He pointed his wand at his own throat and brought that focus to bear. A stream of fire erupted from the tip of his wand and enveloped his neck and shoulders.

The wig recoiled and Harry was dropped to the ground. He could smell his own singed hair and the skin on his neck and cheeks stung painfully as he gasped fresh air into his lungs.

Ahead of him, Harry could see that the wig had once again beat out the fire and the hair coils were coming for him again. He forced his tired body to move into a stumbling run on all fours as he didn't have time to come up any further.

The wig lashed out to catch him again and Harry barely managed to throw himself into a graceless roll between the swinging tendrils. He watched them crash into the pile of rubbish behind him, managing to scramble to his feet as the towering mass began to collapse. Sprinting desperately he barely managed to dive under a heavy wooden desk that had to have once belonged to a teacher.

Detritus rained down onto the desk over his head and Harry heard several explosions outside of his shelter. That'll probably have been the prank products.

When the noises subsided, Harry poked a cautious head out from under the desk to take in what had happened. The wig's tendrils were waving gently in the air, suggesting that he was either out of range or that they had somehow lost track of him.

Just beyond the bust with the crown and killer hair, Harry could see that a large, bile-yellow pool had formed. As he watched, a coat rack tumbled from its precarious position and fell into the liquid with a loud hiss. It began smoking within seconds and within a minute the whole object had been disintegrated. Note to self: do not touch that stuff.

Taking advantage of his shelter, Harry tried to come up with some kind of strategy he could use. Fire doesn't work. Cutting doesn't work. Well, the spells I used don't work. I'm sure if I could use Fiendfyre or a more powerful cutting- I do know a more powerful cutting spell! How do I get the time to fire it off though? The moment that wig notices me casting, it's going to come after me and I'll be buggered. I need to keep it busy.

So… how do you tie up a wig?

Harry blinked as his brain threw up an odd idea. Sod it! I might as well try. If all else fails, I'll throw up a smokescreen and try to hide back here.

Harry took two more breaths to fix his plan in his mind and burst out from his hiding place. The hair immediately surged towards him and a dispassionate part of Harry's mind noted that there was now a green mist that smelled of burnt tyres drifting through the Room. He forced himself not to get distracted and took aim. "Ligolorum!"

The cords of hair whipped in on themselves and tied themselves neatly into a bow as Harry cast the Shoelace Tying Charm. Determined to take advantage of the opening created by the wig desperately trying to pull its strands free, Harry took as deep a breath as he could and began waving his wand through a series of movements that were alternately smooth and sharp. When the tip of his wand began to glow he murmured "awel gwactod", blew out the air in his lungs and slashed his wand through the stream of air.

A distortion flew through the air like a hawk and struck the wig just below the knot Harry had created. The distortion, caused by the vacuum contained between two layers of air kept a miniscule distance apart by Harry's magic, achieved what Harry's Cutting Charm had been unable to do: it sliced through the magically enhanced strands.

The wig seemed to realise that it had lost a lot of reach and changed tactics. The threads reformed themselves into spikes that stuck out in a sphere from the bust, making it look like a blonde sea urchin. Harry felt a surge of vicious satisfaction. Got you! He took in another deep breath and began casting the Void Wind Spell again. With the wig's movements restricted, Harry's spell took a large chunk of hair off. The wig rustled as it readjusted its spikes. Harry just began casting again.

The third Void Wind Spell struck the ball of spikes dead on with a high-pitched ping. Harry just caught sight of a flash of silver before the wig once again rearranged itself. Damn. I'm never going to be able to get rid of all of it Harry realised. If that damn crown is a horcrux then it is going to be nearly indestructible and it's protecting enough of the wig that I can't cut all of it down.

A cough escaped his irritated throat and Harry realised that he must have been inhaling too much of that green mist. "Poflolykefali" he choked out, pointing his wand at his own head. A Bubblehead Charm grew up around his head and Harry immediately noticed a difference in the taste of the air he was breathing. Damn, that stuff seriously built up while I wasn't paying attention.

Harry took a moment to just breathe and clear his head. Okay, think. At the very least you don't have to worry about that hair attacking you for the moment and the Bubblehead Charm should keep the fumes at bay, so think-… the fumes! From the acid! I wonder... Pointing his wand at the bubbling, green pool Harry moved it smoothly through the swish and flick he'd learned years before. "Wingardium Leviosa." A roiling blob rose from the stinking morass. "Yes!" Harry exulted, quickly moving the blob over the bust, trying to ignore the way droplets fell away from it and burnt into the floor. Once the mass of corrosive liquid hung over the bust, Harry released his control over the spell.

The blob hitting the bust sent it tumbling to the floor, already hissing and smoking. Harry watched as the bust and wig dissolved until nothing was left. Nothing except a silver crown lying in the middle of a second, smaller, green pool. Remembering his earlier attempts to levitate the horcrux, Harry aimed his wand at the pool it was in. "Evanesco," he muttered.

The goop splattered out further but didn't disappear like he had expected. Right. Summoning didn't work. Levitating the diadem didn't work. Vanishing the corrosive liquid didn't work. What have I got left? Harry decided that he had to resort to the one tactic that had worked so far: his wind spells.

Moving his wand carefully through the required motions, he murmured out "Awel Awen" and blew out a gale that blew the puddle of goop back towards the larger pool. Since the diadem was heavier, it didn't move as easily as the liquid and soon, Harry had it clear of the worst of the danger. He rinsed it off with a quick "Aguamenti" to get rid of the last of the stuff.

Harry sent a Banishing Charm at the limp remnants of the wig's tendrils lying about, just to check that it wasn't playing dead. Satisfied that it wasn't, he stepped forward and reached out a cautious hand. Picking up the diadem he felt that chill wash through his mind again.

If I put this on, I'll be as clever as Rowena Ravenclaw. I could definitely think of a way to beat Riddle then.

NO! Shuddering back, Harry let the diadem drop to the floor with a tinkling clatter. He gulped down air as fast as he could, trying to calm his heart-rate as his body registered just how close he had come to dying. I can't believe I was tempted to put it on. Right. No more touching that thing.

Tugging his robes off, Harry dropped them over the diadem. He was grateful that he'd never been able to let go of the need to wear muggle clothes under his robes which meant that he wouldn't have to leave the damn horcrux here while he went to look for something to carry it in and possibly run into more traps.

Using his wand to poke his robes under the diadem, Harry made sure that he wouldn't be in direct contact with it in any way. Once he was sure that he could grip it without touching the metal, Harry picked up the diadem gingerly, prepared to drop it again at the first hint that this wasn't going to be enough of a barrier to keep him safe.

A tendril of cold snuck into his mind again, encountered that now familiar icicle in his mind and withdrew, albeit a bit more reluctantly than the first time it had encountered him.

Heaving a sigh of relief, Harry quickly bundled the rest of his robe around the cursed object. Tucking it close to his stomach so the folds wouldn't accidentally slip off, he hurried for the exit.

Harry kept his wand in his hand as he half ran through the Hogwarts' corridors towards the Headmaster's Office, only briefly taking the time to remove his Bubblehead Charm. If ever there was a time he could not afford to run into someone, this was it. Anyone who got to close was going to get Banished back and told later that it was, in fact, the kinder option.

Thankfully, Harry failed to encounter any living beings on his way to Dumbledore's sanctum. When he reached the gargoyle, Harry was so out of breath that it took him two tries to actually get the password out in a way that was intelligible to the stone guardian.

Leaping up the rotating staircase two steps at a time, Harry didn't wait for the Headmaster's call to enter, but burst through the door. "Sir! I've found- oh."

In front of him, Harry could see the four Heads of House turning to look at him with varying expressions of disapproval. Doing his best to ignore them, Harry focused his eyes on Dumbledore. "Sir, we have an emergency."

"I would assume no less for you to enter my office in such a manner, Harry," Dumbledore answered calmly. "Can this emergency wait until I have finished my discussion with your professors?"

"I-…" Harry knew that technically he could stand outside holding the horcrux in his robes until Dumbledore was finished, but the thought alone sent dread racing down his spine. "I rather think that the sooner we handle this the better, sir. It's about the matter we've been looking into." Harry slightly hefted the bundle in his arms to get his point across.

Dumbledore's electric blue eyes met Harry's gaze and the younger wizard felt the brush of another mind on his own. I'm standing here holding a fucking horcrux, now will you please get rid of them so we can kill it?! he screamed out mentally.

Dumbledore started back and Harry saw the old man's eyes widen for a split second before he remastered himself. "My dear colleagues, I hope I find you willing to continue our discussions at a later time. This matter is apparently most pressing."

Harry wasn't particularly surprised to hear Snape snorting in derision. "Headmaster, we cannot pander to this brat's delusions. Tell him to wait outside or I can give him a detention during which he can explain exactly why he thinks his time is more important than that of the Hogwarts senior staff."

"I find myself in reluctant agreement with Severus, Albus," McGonagall added. "We should maintain some level of discipline and there realistically isn't anything a student could be coming to you with that would be more important than our discussion."

"I am afraid, Minerva, Severus, that you are both working with incomplete information. I assure you that Mr. Potter did not burst in here on a whim and that he indeed has a matter to discuss with me that is more pressing than the day to day minutiae of running a school, no matter how essential that is to the futures of our students."

"If we don't have all the information, perhaps you'd care to enlighten us?" Snape sneered in oily tones.

"I fear that I cannot do that, Severus. This is a delicate matter between Mr. Potter and myself."

Harry saw that Snape was more than willing to keep up his protest. Dumbledore must have noticed the same thing as he immediately spoke over whatever his Defence Master had been about to say. "I shall listen to your complaints in full when we reconvene, but for now I must insist that you leave Mr. Potter and myself to our deliberations." There was a hint of steel underlying the Headmaster's words.

One by one the Heads of House got up. Snape swept by Harry with a disgusted sneer on his face. Professors Sprout and Flitwick just looked worried as they left.

Professor McGonagall was the last to leave and darted a look between Harry and Dumbledore. "I do not know what the two of you are about to do, but given the results of your summer escapades I am sure it will be dangerous. Be careful. If we lose one of you I shall not be forgiving the other." With that she marched out.

"Well, we have certainly been warned," Dumbledore commented jovially as the door swung shut. As soon as the latch clicked, all good humour washed from the old wizard's face. "Now then, Harry, how is it that you have managed to find another horcrux despite our agreement that we would not venture out of the castle unless it was in each other's company?"

"Because it was inside the castle," Harry retorted tensely, dropping the bundle on Dumbledore's desk. He pulled on a corner of his robe and the whole thing unravelled, spilling the diadem onto Dumbledore's desk.

"Is that really Ravenclaw's Diadem?" Dumbledore asked in wonder.

Harry saw the old man's hand reaching out for the treasure and whipped his wand up. "Petrificus Sentatus!" Dumbledore snapped back into an uncomfortably rigid sitting position. "Sorry, sir, but the moment you touch that thing, it'll make you think that you can figure out how to beat Riddle if you just put it on."

Dumbledore's eyes whipped back and forth and Harry was a little worried about what that might mean for what the horcrux was doing to the older wizard. Best to get rid of it as quickly as possible. Harry marched across the office and pulled open the cabinet he knew held the Sword of Gryffindor. He picked up the handle and felt the blade's comforting weight settle in his hand.

Turning back to the desk he noticed that Dumbledore's eyes had gone wide. Unfortunately for the Headmaster, Harry had no intention of releasing him for a quick chat before he'd done what needed doing.

Eyeing the malevolent circlet suspiciously, Harry used the tip of the sword to nudge it off of the desk, remembering that Dumbledore had preferred to tackle both the cup and the locket on the floor. Taking a moment to aim, he swung the sword up over his head and slammed it back down as hard as he could.

The diadem let out a hideous scream as the blade cut into it. Harry ignored the abomination's cries and wrenched the sword out, only to swing it back down in another strike. He remembered the times Vernon had made him chop firewood as he rained blow after blow down on the diadem until nothing was left of it except for a slightly smoking lump of tarnished silver.

Straightening up, Harry stretched his back. As he did so, his still petrified Headmaster caught his eye. "Sorry about that, sir," Harry muttered, waving his wand and non-verbally cancelling his spell.

Dumbledore sank into his chair with a groan like a slowly deflating balloon. "Harry, my boy, I am impressed that you have found and dispatched yet another of Tom's horcruxes, but you will surely forgive me if I have some questions."

"I'm used to it by now, sir," Harry smiled, leaning the Sword of Gryffindor against the desk and taking the chair McGonagall had been using. "Ask away."

Dumbledore steepled in his fingers in a way that Harry knew meant he was putting his thoughts in order and deciding where to start. "I would like to know how you came to realise that there was a horcrux in this castle."

"A friend helped me."

Dumbledore's eyes sharpened and he sat up. "You have been discussing our lessons with others. Harry, I'm sorely-"

"Whoa! Stop! Before you launch into some melodramatic speech about not being angry but disappointed, I haven't told anyone what we're doing here. This friend just happened to point me in the direction of the Diadem." Hiding just behind Harry's occlumency shields was the thought that Helena knew something about what had been done to her mother's greatest creation. Still, I didn't tell her that, so I'm not lying. Technically.

Although Harry was sure that Dumbledore wasn't rooting around in his thoughts, he still wondered how much the old man was reading from his body language.

"Very well, I will believe you if you say it is so, but I would still like to know who this friend is; just in case, you understand."

"Not going to happen, sir. My friend rather specifically wanted to be kept out of this."

"Harry, surely you must-"

"Are you about to tell me who passed that prophecy on to Riddle?" Harry cut Dumbledore off. "If not, then you'd better stop right there."

Dumbledore blew out his bearded cheeks in an unusual show of frustration. "Nothing will shift your mind on this?"

"Afraid not, sir. Next question."

"Very well. Why did you not contact me to aid you in your search?" Dumbledore held up a hand to stop Harry from answering immediately. "I understand that the letter of our agreement was not to leave Hogwarts without at least informing the other, but in spirit was it not that we would not take the unnecessary risk of facing a horcrux alone?"

Harry shrugged, trying for nonchalant. He knew that Dumbledore had a point, but wasn't about to grovel and be forced into concessions on the last two pieces of Voldemort left. "Honestly, sir, it was partly to protect my friend and partly because, well, you have a lot of trouble with these things while I'm mostly immune to them. Taking you along would increase my risk if it was just in the castle."

"Immune?" Dumbledore repeated in disbelief. "What do you mean by that?"

"What I said… sort of. I can feel the horcrux invading my mind like a cold wind, but then it comes up against something equally cold and retreats. I-" Harry stopped talking as he caught sight of Dumbledore's expression slipping for just a split second. "You know what it is."

"Harry, I-"

He's going to dodge the question… "NO!" Harry shot to his feet, slamming his palms onto the desktop and leaning forward to glare at his teacher. "No endless twisting around to avoid getting to the point. This is something in my head! Talk!"

"Harry, this is a delicate situation and surely you must-"

"Legillimens!" Harry threw all his mental strength forward. Rationally he knew he stood no chance against Dumbledore in a contest of mind magics, but he hoped that one all-out surprise attack might give him a glimpse of something, anything, that he could actually go off to understand what was happening.

Harry managed to glimpse a single flash of an image before he was thrown out of Dumbledore's mind. His scar in a line with all the horcruxes they knew of.

Sagging against the desk as he struggled to regain control of his limbs after having his thoughts thoroughly scrambled, Harry felt a chilling realisation strike him: I am one. I'm…

He couldn't complete the thought. Lifting his head with great effort he found the man he had thought of as a mentor these past months, perhaps even a friend, looking down at him in horror.

Rage pounded through Harry's veins and soon all he could hear was his own pulse pounding a maddening tattoo in his ear. Wrenching himself upright, Harry tore his eyes away from the man who had betrayed him and fled.

He heard Dumbledore calling his name, but ignored it. He was so full of emotion that he couldn't identify whether he was feeling rage or grief or betrayal or something else altogether. Maybe all of them at once.

His first instinct was to go look for Hermione. She was better at figuring out emotions than he was and even if she hadn't been, his heart ached to see her, to let her hold him until the world made sense again. And what? Tell her that I have a part of our worst enemy in my head? She hates Riddle. I don't think I could handle seeing the disgust on her face before she can hide it. Harry's entire spirit shuddered back from the very idea of Hermione's face taking on such an expression.

So what are you going to do, Potter?

The question kept most of his thoughts occupied as his feet trod a familiar route. Stepping out onto the Astronomy Tower and feeling the wind catch his hair helped cool his feverish thoughts. It's not Hermione, but this is good.

Standing there, looking out over Hogwarts' grounds Harry's mind drifted back to the question that had just become the centre of his existence. What am I going to do about this- this thing? He couldn't bring himself to name the abominations he'd been hunting, even in the silence of his own mind.

I have to get rid of it somehow. He felt like rolling his eyes at himself. Yeah, genius, but how? He reviewed what he knew of horcruxes.

They're almost impossible to destroy. That could be either good or bad news depending on how Harry chose to look at it.

There are no recorded instances of a living creature being a horcrux, unless Dumbledore is right about Nagini… and me. A storm of emotions kicked off within Harry. He was furious at the Headmaster, terrified of what this might mean for himself and those close to him and becoming rapidly more discouraged that he would be able to find a solution.

No. Focus. You've discussed Nagini with Dumbledore. What did he say about her?

"I suspect, and mind you, this is a guess I have only minimal confidence in, that Tom realised that it will be lonely for him throughout the untold aeons that he intends to live if he does not have a companion. He may be gambling rather heavily on the idea that a living being as a horcrux will live as long as he does, just as he will live as long as it does."

"How do we get rid of it if they're both keeping each other alive? Do we have to do something other than killing it?"

"No, my boy, I am afraid that we will still need to kill her. Remember the conditions for breaking the connection between a horcrux and the parent soul."

"You mean that bit about having to destroy the horcrux beyond the ability of magical or muggle repair?"

"Indeed. And for a living being the only condition that meets those requirements is death."

A chill stole down Harry's spine. Only death. I can only die.

I don't want to die.

An empty feeling washed through Harry as he stared out over the Forbidden Forest. I have to die. I don't want to die. The two thoughts chased each other through his mind leaving him with barely any room to consider anything else.

Maybe I can talk to- to-… he couldn't come up with a single person who might be able to help him. This isn't exactly something Pomfrey can slap an ointment on.

What else is there? Enjoy the 'small pleasures' until it's my time? Knowing where that advice had come from just sent a spike of anger and hurt through Harry's heart. He folded his arms on the parapet and rest his chin on them. As he stared out into the Forest he tried to remember his little joys despite himself.

I suppose I should go flying while I still can. Definitely spend some time with Hermione. At least I know I made the right choice when I bargained with the Oak King. Imagine what would happen if I just disappeared and her memory never-

Harry smacked himself in the forehead. I'm an idiot. The Oak King! He might be able to help. After all, if I have to die, he'll lose too!

Harry straightened up, grim determination filling him. It's a long shot. Then again, that same long shot more or less worked out before and this time I have something that fae will want. His eyes rested on the Forest and the glen that lay hidden within one last time before he turned away and strode back down the stairs. Looks like I have an appointment with royalty.

He moved through the castle confidently. For all any onlooker might guess he could be on his way to the Great Hall for supper. He kept that pace up as he ducked through the wicket gate set in the great double doors. Once he was outside, he dropped every pretence and ran for the edge of the Forest. He did wait until he was in among the first trees before casting a spell he had only needed once before: "Diadhachd".

Purple flames raced along Harry's wand until they formed a large drop that fell towards the ground never to hit it. Moments later he found himself once again walking through the Forbidden Forest, almost keeping pace with his artificial hinkypunk. How could he? How could he have hidden this from me?

Every step, every heartbeat seemed to remind him of that betrayal. I have to die? After all this, after my life has been turned to shit by one being after another… I have to die on top of all that? No! I refuse. I will not leave Hermione to cry like she did after the Ministry.

His thoughts caused his steps to quicken as he hurried on through the woods, as if he could escape his fate if he only walked fast enough.

After an hour of walking, Harry finally reached the familiar clearing. Without pausing to marvel at its unchanging beauty he marched forward until he was standing at the base of the Guardian Oak and struck it with his wand three times in quick succession. Before the light could form anything more than a ball, he dropped to his knees, not wanting to waste time.

"You have grown bold to summon me like this, Child of Man," the deep voice whispered above him. "I had not expected that you would return here before you had completed the task I had set you."

"I have come, Majesty, because the task cannot be completed as I am now. I ask you to grant me your boon in advance of the task's completion so that I may see it through." Harry bit the words out, wanting desperately to rail at this being for the impossible situation he had been placed in, but knowing that it would not help in the long run. "A piece of my enemy's soul has been lodged in my forehead and I am told that the only way to remove it is to die. Since he will not die if I do not do so first, I am trapped. I have come to ask you: remove this part of my enemy. Give me at least a chance to kill him."

The Oak King was quiet for a long time. Then, "You speak the truth." The fae sounded surprised. "This development is unexpected. If you were to fall in battle, the Enemy would claim victory… you were right to come here." The admission sounded painful to give and Harry felt a spike of vindication.

"Then you will remove the soul piece?"

"I will, my Champion." Sun-warmed wood touched Harry's scar and caused it to burst into sheer, undiluted pain.

Harry screamed and thrashed as he tried to escape the agonizing touch, but his forehead seemed stuck to the Oak King's finger. He didn't know how much time passed before the finger lifted away, taking a weight he had not known he carried with it. Harry slumped back down, panting for breath and desperately fighting not to collapse at the Oak King's feet.

"You have asked for this as your reward for victory. You dare not fail, my Champion," came the reedy whisper that Harry had come to associate with the Oak King returning to his own realm. He got to his feet stiffly, feeling pain that wasn't localised to any particular part of his body.

He relished it. Take that! He wasn't sure if the thought was directed at Riddle or Dumbledore or Fate itself. I'm not going to waste my parents' sacrifice if I can help it. Harry felt like a puppet that had cut one more string and didn't much care for the exact name and nature of his puppeteer as long as he could be free.

With his mouth pulling into a defiant smirk, he turned back towards the castle and took the first aching step on his return journey.

AN:

It's never actually clear from the descriptions in the books that the rubbish room (fine, Room of Hidden Things) shows up the same way every time. Harry remembers seeing the bust near where he hid the book, but when the Trio search for the diadem, they don't find the book first and then go from there. They trip face first into the destruction of the horcrux because Crabbe shot off a bigger spell than he could handle. I think that a randomisation factor would certainly make this a more secure hiding location than it would otherwise be, and thus a more logical choice. Voldemort himself might know how to find what he's hidden because it's his horcrux and he hid it, but no one else would.

There's a bit of a life lesson in this chapter: if someone 'pranks' you by wrapping your head in duct tape, don't reach up and start pulling at it before they're done. They'll just keep wrapping and your hands will be taped to your head, making it much harder to free yourself.

· Ligolorum is two Latin words squashed together. Ligo means tie and Lorum means strap. Hence, Shoelace Tying Charm.

· Poflolykefali is a portmanteau of the Greek words ποφλόλυκας (poflolykas, meaning 'bubble') and κεφάλι (kefali, meaning 'head').

· Awel Gwactod is two Welsh words meaning 'breeze' and 'vacuum' respectively. Those readers who noticed the similarities with the Awel Awen spell would be right. Those who've picked up that all those spells Harry seems to have learned from Transfiguring for Trouble and Animating for Adversaries are in Welsh would happen to be correct. It makes sense to me that a text like that would largely stick to one magical tradition for its contents. If you've also noticed that Harry seems to have a penchant for wind spells, then you have not imagined that either.
This particular spell was based on the fictional sword technique Izuna in the manga Rurouni Kenshin, which in turn was based on the Japanese myths about the kamaitatchi. Kamaitatchi are invisible weasels that ride the wind, specifically whirlwinds and dust devils. They have long, sharp claws that they use to scratch anyone the wind touches. It's apparently supposed to be painful, but not very damaging. The mangaka of Rurouni Kenshin turned it into something much more damaging that works more or less the way I've described it in this chapter and I've adapted it to my purposes here.

· Petrificus Sentatus is my personal variation on the Full Body Bind: the Seated Body Bind. Just like Madam Pomfrey was able to alter the Locomotor Mortis spell in an earlier chapter, Harry has picked up this variant that he never showed in canon.

Bloody hell that was a busy chapter. It turns out that hunting horcruxes is a lot like going bankrupt. It happens slowly, then very quickly.