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The Shadow of Death
Chapter 16: Where Secrets Lie
"You told me you had important information." Harry stepped out from a shadowed corner of the room as the door clicked shut behind Greengrass.
The blonde witch jumped. She ran her wand over the door, something she had done each time they met. Harry surreptitiously added his own wards over hers.
A poke in his back saw Harry stop.
"Perhaps a gentle hand is needed," Dumbledore whispered in his ear. Harry had hidden him under the invisibility cloak when he sensed the girl's approach.
"Don't do that!" Greengrass groused, stamping her foot.
"Do what?" Harry crossed his arms, ignoring the Headmaster's prods.
Greengrass rolled her eyes and waved her hand in a circular motion. "That cloak and dagger bit you seem to love so much."
He stepped further into the room. "You are wasting time, Greengrass. Report."
"Fine." She conjured a chair and took a seat. "The common room has been quiet lately. Malfoy's been holding his usual court, but the upper years have pulled away from him."
Harry crossed his arms.
"I fail to see how this is relevant, Greengrass" He tapped a finger against his arm. "Perhaps it would be best if I decide when we meet."
"I was getting to that." She flicked her hair over her shoulder and shot him a nasty look. "It means your scare tactic worked. The older Slytherins want nothing to do with you."
Harry lit a small fire in the hearth and turned to face her. Greengrass's cheeks protruded, making her appear more skeleton than human. Dark bags, hidden partially by makeup, sagged under her bloodshot eyes.
"Yet Malfoy persists," he added.
Blonde hair fell over her shoulder when she nodded.
"He's an idiot." Greengrass's tone was icy, frost creeping over stone. "But a few others will still follow him because of his father."
"What else?" Harry counted the quiet ticks echoing from his watch.
"Professor Antov." Greengrass bobbed her foot, biting her lip. Harry motioned for her to continue. "She asked me about Potter and the Headmaster after our last Defence lesson. And you."
Harry's eyes narrowed under his hood. "How?" he hissed. "She should not know of me"
She nibbled on a manicured nail before making a face and placing her palm on her thigh. Grey fabric scratched over his skin, static discharges making his hair stand on end.
"I think Malfoy told her about what happened in the common room." She raised her hands as Harry surged to the door. "I can't prove it. But I know she's asking questions."
"A spy, but for whom?" Harry muttered.
'The Headmaster was right.' He clenched his fist, banging it against the door. 'Umbridge was a known threat. Taking her off the board was a mistake.'
"A what?"
Harry shook his head. "Nothing. If that is all then you can leave."
"There's one other thing." Greengrass rose to her feet. Her steps were slow, trepidatious and her eyes were narrow. "When will you release me from your service?"
Stepping forward, he answered, "Is it such a bad thing for you? You are safe and I ask for little in return."
Blue eyes sharpened to steel in the dim light.
"I loathe you," she whispered, a deep shiver running course over her body. "Being beholden to my parents' killer is revolting. I can't sleep and I barely eat. I want you dead."
Harry glared at her beneath his cowl, a growl slipping from his lips.
"You will be released when I deem fit." He towered over her. She stood resolute in his flickering shadow. "You will give me information until you are no longer of any use to me."
He opened the door with a sharp tug. "Leave."
"I'll find a way out," she hissed. "I promise you that; I'll see to your end if I must."
"You will try." He slammed the door behind her.
Harry spelled the door locked and turned around, fire coursing through his shaking body. Dumbledore shrugged off the Invisibility Cloak and sat in the centre of the room in Greengrass's vacant chair.
"While her information was concerning," he mused, "I fear there is too little for us to act on."
"I agree." Lowering his hood, Harry conjured a chair and took a seat. "Antov's presence is concerning. I believe the Minister has sent another spy to Hogwarts."
Dumbledore nodded, fire sparking off his half-moon spectacles. "Indeed, but there is little we can do at this point. We simply need to be wary of her. Do not act against her."
"Understood," Harry replied. "Two professors being ousted would be cause for question. But I do find her placement odd."
"You do not believe Miss Greengrass?" Dumbledore frowned at a smudge on his spectacles' lens.
Harry shook his head. "I believe her, but I doubt Malfoy told her anything of note. It is too convenient, too neat."
"Not everything comes back to Voldemort, Harry." The Headmaster sighed. "But in this case, you are likely correct. Lucius had the Minister appoint her."
"And killing her would only see Voldemort grow suspicious of us." Harry tapped his chin. "He has played his cards well."
Dumbledore stroked his beard. "It seems that your actions against Dolores have come back to bite us in our proverbial rears, my boy."
"I do not wish to argue the point again, Headmaster. I did what I felt necessary. But I do have a request."
The Headmaster raised a white eyebrow.
"We need not be completely in the dark." Harry leaned forward. "I require an elf. Greengrass cannot keep an eye on the Slytherins and Antov constantly."
"A prudent request." Dumbledore snapped his fingers. "Winky."
A loud crack clapped his eardrums. A slovenly elf stumbled to her knees at his feet. Her toga was stained with bodily fluids, a half-empty bottle of butterbeer clutched tight in her tiny hands.
"I would rather have an elf who does not imbibe, Headmaster." He scowled at the pathetic creature. "She reminds me of Black."
"I suppose she would." Dumbledore directed a sad smile at the elf. "Winky has longed for a family. I believe she will stop drinking should she be properly motivated. Think of her as an early wedding gift."
Winky stood on wobbling knees, her odour turning his stomach. Harry's nose wrinkled and he levelled a flat stare at the Headmaster.
"Winky be's a good elf- hic!" She fell to her rear and tipped the bottle against her smudged lips. The elf scowled at the empty bottle and gave it a firm shake.
"I find little humour in your joke, Headmaster." Harry snatched the bottle from the struggling elf and threw it in the hearth.
Sparkling glass spilled from the grate, the fire sparking and hissing in protest.
"It is no joke, my boy." His eyes glimmered with amusement and a bit of sorrow. "I feel this is best for both of you."
Harry growled, his lip curling as he approached the drunken creature. It hiccuped and stared at him with wide, brown eyes as he approached. Winky's cheeks bulged and vomit splashed over his robe's hem.
"Fine." He touched the top of its head, his skin crawling. Harry pushed his magic into her. "You are mine, elf. You will not drink any more alcohol. Am I clear?"
Waxen, grey skin coloured and Winky's sunken eyes became protuberant. Her magic, broken by drink, sharpened under his own. She nodded, eyes glazed, with enough force to see her ears slap against her cheeks.
"You will spy on the Slytherins and Professor Antov." He removed his hand and wiped it on his robes. "Report everything they do back to me and make sure you are never seen."
"Winky will not be failing you, Master Potter." The elf bowed low, staggering, and disappeared with a loud crack.
Dumbledore banished the puddle of vomit with a wave of his wand and stood. His blue eyes assessed Harry, seeing through him with casual effort.
"Are you ready for our venture, Harry?" Dumbledore pocketed his wand, his eyes serious. "I do not expect us to encounter any danger, but we must be prepared for any eventuality."
"What do you expect to find and where are we going?" Harry hid his hands in his sleeves. "You have not been very forthcoming about your activities of late."
Another flick of the Headmaster's wand saw the fire flicker and die. The Headmaster walked to the door, stopping a metre from it.
"Likely nothing of importance," he replied. "But I hope to find one of Voldemort's horcruxes. I have been searching for them and believe I have made a breakthrough. Let us be off, Harry."
Harry's body shimmered, disappearing from sight. He followed the Headmaster through the halls. The old wizard smiled, greeting passing students as though he were merely taking a peaceful nighttime stroll.
Excited voices reached his ears as they approached the Great Hall. Dumbledore stopped as Antov exited the door. Harry palmed his wand, sparks shooting over his skin.
Her blonde hair shimmered in the torchlight. A pleasant smile quirked at her thin lips, but her green eyes, cold as a tundra, bespoke her experience. A killer, like him.
"Good evening, Professor Antov." Dumbledore smiled, his normally twinkling eyes dull. "I hope you are settling into Hogwarts well."
Antov looked over the Headmaster's shoulder, directly at him. Her smile was that of a serpent's, a predator eyeing a particularly juicy mouse. Harry's muscles coiled in preparation for a strike.
"Very vell," she replied with a genial smile. "Spasibo, Albus. Teaching is different, but a velcome change."
"Very good." Dumbledore looked down at his watch. "I hate to be rude, but I must be off. I have been too busy to make my rounds of late. Good evening, Professor."
Antov gave him a deep nod. "Da. And you, Headmaster."
Dumbledore gave her a small bow in return and made his way to the staircase. Harry followed, his skin prickling. He quickened his steps.
"She is following us," he whispered.
A minute nod met his statement.
They rounded a corner onto the second floor. Albus threw the Invisibility Cloak over his form and pulled Harry into a small alcove hidden behind a banner. Harry peeked out from its tiny opening against the wall.
A shimmering form, hardly discernible, rounded the corner a moment later. The Russian witch stayed for a minute before she made her way back to the stairs.
"She knows I am with you," Harry whispered when she had left. "Only a powerful and experienced witch could detect me while I am invisible."
"Antov was a prominent hitwizard in Russia." Dumbledore placed the Cloak back in his pocket. "I suggest you make greater use of The Cloak, Harry. She seems unable to penetrate its defences"
Harry followed the Headmaster to a girl's lavatory.
"Where are you taking us?" He looked around the bathroom. Sparkling water sloshed in lazy currents over the cracked floor.
"The Chamber of Secrets." Dumbledore walked over to a set of sinks. "I do not suppose you are a parseltongue?"
He paused at the question. It was not one he had ever been asked before.
"No," he replied. "But it would have been a useful ability."
Dumbledore nodded and pulled a small, purple crystal from his pocket.
"No matter." The aged wizard tapped the crystal with his wand. Hissing echoed around the room. "I managed to find one in Bulgaria last year. He was kind enough to provide me with this."
The lavatory rumbled, dust shooting from the hissing sinks as they ground against the wet stone floor. The floor opened into a dark, cavernous pit. Dumbledore smiled and jumped inside. Harry followed moments later.
The tunnel, a wide pipe, went on for ages. It was slicked with a particularly odorous slime. Harry realised that they had likely travelled miles by the time he landed in a pile of bones.
His body shimmered into existence. A ball of light left his hand and shimmered down on them from above. Grey stone and black water extended into the distance. Shadows danced just beyond the borders of the light.
"It is not very impressive," he commented dryly. "I expected something more grandiose after seeing Slytherin's common room."
"It suited Salazar's purposes, I suppose," Dumbledore grunted, fighting to untangle a rat's rib cage from his beard. "This was where he kept his basilisk. There was little else he needed from this place."
Harry recalled Dumbledore telling his previous master of the event three years prior. His shoulders relaxed. Fighting a basilisk would have been trying, even for him.
"I suspect we may find one of Tom's horcruxes here." Dumbledore threw the ribcage to the ground and began walking. His feet splashing in the shallow water permeated the air of the chamber.
Hollow whistling blasted through the only tunnel leading from the large chamber.
"Why do you believe he would hide a horcrux here?" Harry crawled through an opening left over from a cave-in.
"Tom was always a rather vain boy." Light from the end of Dumbledore's wand broke the darkness. Water dripped on them from above. "I believe he would only create horcruxes from items which held value to him. Trophies of a sort. And he would hide them in places of significance to him."
Harry lowered his hood. A writhing steel door stood firm in the distance.
"And how is this chamber significant to him?" He looked up.
Dumbledore wore a severe countenance.
"He found the Chamber in his fifth year." They stopped before the door. Steel snakes writhed on the door, their emerald eyes glinting like gems in fire. "This was where he began his transformation into Lord Voldemort. Accessing it gave him the belief that he was Slytherin's true heir. His belief holds merit."
Hissing reverberated through the air. The purple crystal cast an eerie light onto the serpent-covered door.
"It would be the perfect place to hide a horcrux." Harry walked into the chamber, his wand drawn. "Only Parselmouths should be able to reach this place and it had an ancient basilisk guarding it."
"My thoughts exactly." Dumbeldore pulled his wand, his blue eyes fixed on the dead basilisk in the centre of the Chamber. "Let us begin."
Murmurs and spells broke through the cold, wet air of the Chamber. The two worked in tandem, covering every centimetre of the massive place.
Harry stopped at the foot of a giant bust of Salazar Slytherin, scoffing.
"I do not forgive. I do not forget," he read aloud. The words had been carved into the base of the statue. "Slytherin does not seem the type to immortalise such childish words."
Dumbledore looked over his shoulder. "It is Tom's writing. I imagine they are words he lived by in his youth. It is less elegant than anything he would utter today, though no less true."
"There is a chamber behind the statue," Harry mumbled. "Can you use your stone to open it?"
The crystal hissed in Dumbledore's weathered hand but the statue remained unmoved. Harry ran his wand over the statue.
"It was enchanted well." He pocketed his wand. "I cannot overcome the enchantments. Only a true Parselmouth can proceed."
Reaching deep into his vibrant red robes, Dumbledore pulled out a tattered leather book with a hole in its centre. He held it out to Harry.
The diary slipped from his fingers as his hand shot to his forehead. It splashed into the water at his feet, the chilled, foetid liquid soaking his trainers in stinking grime.
"What is that?" He eyed the book, his skin feeling as if it had been coated in slime. "My scar… it reacted. Even now, it is buzzing."
Blue eyes narrowed in thought as he bent to retrieve the book.
"It was Tom's first horcrux, I believe." Dumbledore turned the journal over in his hand. "It was destroyed three years ago."
"And my scar reacts to it." Dumbledore shot him a look. Harry's eyes widened. "My scar… is a horcrux? Then that means… I will… No. I refuse to!"
Dumbledore shook his head. "It was removed long ago. I checked after we returned from Romania. This, however, is… odd."
Harry took the journal from his hands. Vibrations coursed from his scar, tingling him to the bone. Magic, weakened over the years, leaked from the book.
"Magic leaves traces," he whispered. "I can sense them… And my dreams at Headquarters. That means…"
He tossed the book across the Chamber and laid his hand on the statue.
"It is not here." Harry's eyes narrowed and he looked up at Dumbledore. "But there is one in the castle and another in Headquarters."
"Where did this sensation feel strongest within the castle?"
"The seventh floor," Harry murmured. "I dismissed it. We should find it, quickly."
Dumbledore looked up at the statue. "I believe we should first destroy the horcrux in Grimmauld Place. There are many Order members who could stumble upon it."
"I disagree." Harry eyed the journal. Water sloshed around it, slowly decaying. "If Antov is a Death Eater then Voldemort could have her move it. It would be lost to us. The risk is too great."
They walked over to the basilisk. Dumbledore conjured a crystal container and began removing fangs from its mouth.
"Reluctantly, I must agree." He stuck his head in the creature's corroded mouth. "The venom sac was punctured. We will find no venom beyond what remains in the fangs."
"What do you know of horcruxes?" Harry ran his hand down the length of the basilisk, its scales unyielding as steel beneath his fingers. "I was only taught how to destroy them."
"Only what is written in a few texts." Dumbledore placed the last of the fangs in the container and pocketed it. "A horcrux is, for all intents and purposes, indestructible most of the time. The container will take on an aspect or properties of the soul fragment housed within, relative to the power of the container and the soul."
Harry shot a look at the journal.
"Then how do you make it mortal?"
"That is where the danger lies." Dumbledore summoned the journal. "The aspect must be destroyed before the horcrux is made mortal. It is a defence mechanism and is part of the ritual. Take this for instance."
He held it up, a frown on his face.
"This journal represents Tom's past. While not a powerful artefact, it was dangerous. It had the power to bewitch any who wrote in it. The bewitched person would then be possessed by the soul within and gain control over the basilisk. The basilisk was used in the ritual and became the aspect. This, I believe, was the limit to the horcruxes power. The others, depending on the container used, could be far more powerful."
"Then I will go with you." Harry walked from the chamber.
—0v0—
Daughter,
Your lack of progress causes me to question how you are spending your time at Hogwarts. Your incremental progress over the past month has stalled. I was pleased that you had finally made contact with the boy.
Now, however, your feeble attempts have stalled any progress you could have made over the last month. I have been forced to field questions about your lack of worth as an heiress. Those I work with in the Ministry are watching and they judge me by your inaction.
Remember, daughter, that a father is judged through his children in our society. My very position is being called into question. After all, if a French Veela cannot woo a teenage British boy then how am I fit to be France's ambassador to Britain?
As they have said, you are a VEELA. How is it possible that you do not have the boy in your clutches? I wonder if your sister would fare better.
You have until the Yule, daughter. If I do not see results then I will transfer the contract to Gabrielle.
I do not care how you do it. Entice him, bribe him, throw yourself at him, or use your allure to turn him to a gibbering puddle of goo. Use everything at your disposal or I shall see your sister do so.
Do not bring any further shame on our family.
Sebastien Delacour
Head of the Noble House of Delacour
The words blurred before her eyes. Smoke stung her eyes and nostrils. Fleur flung the parchment from her person, shrieking as she launched her fire at it.
And it wasn't enough. The fire roared inside her, demanding release. Her skin prickled and her vision sharpened. Avian screeches pierced her mind.
The parchment withered, crumbling to ash. Her nostrils flared and her eyes darted around the room.
She loosed another scream.
Clawed, scaly hands grabbed a nearby desk. It shattered, splinters shooting across the room with sharp hisses. Fire leapt from her hands. The wood turned to ash in an instant.
Fleur looked down. A white feather, its edges blackened, laid at her feet. Her clawed hands fisted in her hair and she bent over.
'Enough,' she thought. The animal inside reared against her. 'ENOUGH! We will get nowhere doing this.'
The avian creature slammed against its cage. Its calls for fire, to consume, battered her. Fleur pushed back and the screeching lessened.
Her skin tingled as the feathers receded. Laboured breaths shot through the scorched room and sweat poured down her forehead, her platinum hair sticking to her cheeks.
Fleur stomped on the small pile of ash. "Bâtard."
He didn't know the effort she'd put in, nor did he care. He only wanted results.
At her expense.
Teeth strained under her clenching jaw. Their creaks and protests dominated her ears. Fleur's inner Veela shrieked within its mental confines.
"But I 'ave to." Her shoulders slumped. The fire fizzled, leaving only smouldering embers. "Or Gabby… I can't allow it."
Sebastien Delacour was a rising political animal and he'd stop at nothing to see his goals accomplished, even at the expense of his own daughters.
And Potter? He was an animal of a different kind.
Her eyes narrowed. 'I'll never allow him near Gabby.'
"But 'e isn't affected by my allure, not fully at least." Fleur tapped her chin with a thin finger. "And 'e won't be brought to my side easily. 'Ow zhen?"
Seduction was out of the question. She didn't want her sister to marry Potter, but she'd never debase herself in such a way.
"Per'aps during a 'Ogsmeade visit?" She shook her head. He'd never do anything she asked of him.
Her head shot to the door when she heard hurried whispers outside it. She crept closer.
"Are you sure?" Her eyes narrowed at Dumbledore's question. "There is nothing in that direction."
"I am sure, Headmaster." Fleur's eyes widened. "The sensation is stronger in that direction."
"Then lead on, Harry."
Fleur listened, her heart hammering against her ribs, as their footsteps receded. She shot one look at the room before she disillusioned herself and slipped out the door and into the dark night.