Chapter Eight

The Third Horcrux

The interior of the house was dark and musty. Harry could almost smell death seeping out of every crack. He couldn't see anything, and he wasn't about to proceed without a light.

"Lumos," Harry muttered, and the tip of his wand flared in the darkness. Ron and Hermione did the same behind him. He looked up and gasped.

The entryway was enormous. It was cylindrical in shape, and a magnificent mahogany staircase wound it's way upward and disappeared into darkness, with doors branching off every few meters to unknown rooms. A big archway on the ground level led to what Harry expected was a sitting room or something of the sort. Ron made a move as to go up through the arch, but Harry pulled him back, shaking his head. "It's up," he said, gazing at the stairs.

"How do you know?" Ron demanded.

Harry shook his head. "I don't know. But I have… a feeling. It's upstairs. It'll be in the highest room. It would represent power to Voldemort, having it high in the air."

Ron shrugged skeptically. "Alright, Harry, whatever you say. But I still don't think you know any better than I do."

"Too bad. We're going up the stairs. C'mon."

Harry mounted the first stair, expecting something to happen, but nothing did. His footsteps were muffled by the thick layer of dust that covered everything. Tentatively, he put his foot on the next step.

They climbed higher and higher, growing tenser by the moment. After they were about thirty feet from the ground, Harry noticed that Ron and Hermione were no longer following him.

"What's wrong?" he asked, descending to where they stood and looking back and forth between their faces.

Hermione shook her head, an expression of intense fear on her face. "Something's not right, Harry. We haven't encountered anything since the vines out in the yard. Surely Vol- Voldemort would have put up more defense than this."

Harry swallowed. "I know. But what are we supposed to do? Maybe he's just trying to lull us into a false sense of security or something."

"Harry…"

"What?"

"I don't know, but I have a horrible feeling that I can't get rid of."

Harry's heart melted as he looked into her terrified eyes. "Hermione," he said softly, "you can go back. You don't have to do this. I can't ask you to risk your life to help me. But I have to go on."

"We're sticking with you, mate," Ron said, though his voice was rather higher than usual. "We can't let you face this alone."

"No, we can't," Hermione whispered, "but Harry, please, Harry, be careful. Be ready for anything."

"I am," he said determinedly, hoping he sounded braver than he felt.

He continued up the stairs, and Ron and Hermione tentatively followed.

But now he was far less sure of himself than he had been before. Hermione's words resounded in his ears; I don't know, but I have a horrible feeling that I can't get rid of.

Harry mounted about the fifth landing when it happened. A swarm of bats hurtled down from the ceiling, shrieking and flapping. Hermione screamed and froze, petrified, and Harry gazed on with his mouth hanging open in a sort of terrified awe. The bats were huge, with four-foot wingspans and gleaming teeth. The scariest part, however, was their eyes. They were big and red, almost like the bats were insane, and they had an eerie quality to them, as though there was intelligence behind those eyes.

Only Ron had the presence of mind to do something about it. With a yell, he swung open the door, shoved Harry and Hermione through it, and collapsed on top of them, kicking it shut again with his foot. They could hear the bats on the other side, but the monsters couldn't get through.

They were all panting for breath, their hearts beating wildly. The room was pitch black, but they didn't do anything about it. They had let their wands go out and didn't have the energy to relight them.

Harry only allowed them to stay there for a few seconds, however, before he stood up. "C'mon. We've gotta keep going. Lumos."

The wand tip flared, and Harry looked around in awe. The house looked far too small from the outside to contain even one room this big. It was (obviously) magic.

Harry looked down, and a feeling of dread encompassed his body. They were standing on the edge of an abyss that never seemed to end, falling away into darkness. The room was square, and throughout it were about eighty floating chunks of rock, all about five feet in diameter and completely flat. They were arranged in rows with a white one in the very center. On the other side, which seemed a mile away, was another precipice like the one on which they stood. The object looked easy enough; they had to jump from one stone to the next across the room.

Harry had a feeling that it wouldn't be so simple.

Statues, also floating in midair, lined the walls each of them leering down at them menacingly. Harry, glancing at them and gulping, shuffled to the edge of the outcropping.

"Harry," Hermione whimpered, "you're not going to jump across that, are you?"

He set his jaw determinedly, trying to gauge the distances between where he stood and the two closest ones. He could make it. He hoped.

"Harry," she said, almost pleadingly, "we can go back out there, we can face the bats…."

Harry snorted. "Did you see those things? This'll be far easier, come on."

And without allowing himself a second thought, he leaped.

He landed firmly on his feet… or so he thought. As he quickly discovered, the platforms wobbled. He sprawled, off balance, arms whirling, fear punching into his heart as he tipped towards the abyss.

But something pushed him back onto the platform. When it was steady once more, he turned slowly around, breathing hard. Hermione had her wand pointed at him, and it was as though an invisible hand had shoved him to keep him from falling.

"Thank you," he whispered, gasping for breath and shaking all over. A whisper was all he could manage.

"We have to land in the middle of the rocks," Ron said decisively. "Go on, Hermione, Harry'll grab you."

Hermione was pale and shaking. "I can't, Ron, please, don't make me. I can't jump that far."

"It's not far, Hermione," Harry said eagerly. "It's a lot closer than it looks. Trust me."

"Alright," she whimpered, and then she jumped.

Harry gripped her tightly as soon as she was near enough, and they fell to the floor as the platform wobbled again, but they didn't fall.

Harry stood shakily. "Okay, I'm going to jump to the next one. Hermione, you do the same thing you did last time, with your wand, and then Ron can jump, and you'll catch him.

Slowly, tediously, they worked their way across the room. There were several close calls, like when Harry nearly fell, but Hermione's invisible hand held him up and dumped him safely on the platform, but they all made it though alive.

Harry sprang to the one white slab, feeling for what seemed the millionth time the gentle push that kept him on the slab of stone.

"What was that?" Ron asked, his head whipping around.

"What was what?" Harry asked, slightly distracted; Hermione was about to jump. She teetered on the edge for a moment, having lunged forward but been distracted by Ron's interruption, and it looked as though she was about to fall. At the last second, however, Ron seized the back of her robes and pulled her back, embracing her. "Don't do that," he told her, kissing the top of her head. "You scared me."

"What was what?" Harry asked a little more urgently. His nerves were more on edge than he could ever remember them being.

But then his question was answered without Ron's help. The statues around the walls were coming to life. Stone grated against stone as they moved away from the wall, bearing down on the trio like a terrifying beast. Hermione screamed, and even Ron and Harry whimpered. Harry found himself shaking uncontrollably. The last time he had encountered moving, larger-that-life statues was in an all-too-real chess game, many years ago…. Ron had nearly been killed on that occasion. Harry had a nasty feeling that this wasn't all that much different.

The statues each took up a position somewhere in the room as the three of them watched in horrified fascination. "What is it?" Ron whispered.

Hermione gulped. "Tafl," she whispered.

"Come again?" Harry asked, riveted by the moving statues. Some were like white marble, others like black ebony.

"It's tafl," she said, shaking her head. "I read about it in a book."

"Do you know how to play it?" Ron asked rather apprehensively.

"I read through the rules," she told them anxiously, "but I don't know if I can remember anything."

Harry moaned. "Who came up with this stupid game, anyway?"

"The Vikings," Hermione said absentmindedly. "It was the forerunner of chess. I think… Harry, I think I can remember the rules well enough to get not violate any, but… whether or not we'll win, I can't say."

"Well," said Harry grimly, gripping his wand, "you're the best we've got. Care to explain what you can remember?"

She nodded weakly. "The king- that's you, Harry, because you're in the middle- is the key player side. We're black," she said, gesturing to the remainder of the pieces. "Our objective is usually to get the king to one of the corners of the room, but in this case, I think it's to get the king to the door. A piece is captured if it gets trapped on two sides with the opposite player's pieces. The pieces move horizontally and diagonally, like… like the Rook in chess-"

"It's starting," Ron interrupted, his face bloodless.

Indeed, the first black floated over to a different slab.

"Ron, Hermione," Harry said urgently, "Get over here, so that we can be together."

They jumped, and Hermione turned around. "I think…" she said softly, and without completing her thought, she raised her wand and pointed it at one of the black players. Indeed, it moved one platform to its right. "Yes," she said.

Harry didn't ask. He watched as another white piece moved, and then Hermione said, "We're moving one square closer to the door, you two. Let's do it."

They did it.

Slowly, even more so than before because they had to wait for the other pieces to take their turn, they grew closer to the door. Whenever a piece was captured, the stone would wobble, tipping the unfortunate statue into the abyss. The white pieces were drawing closer to them with every turn, and soon Ron was shaking, and Harry could feel his insides twisting into knots. Only Hermione remained calm; she had the brains to get them through this.

Before long, they found a white piece blocking the path that up until then had been straight towards the door.

Hermione bit her lip. "They have to surround us with four people," she said, gazing around. "We're going to have to get around it."

And so they did. But their opponent was Lord Voldemort, and while he might not have been as clever as Hermione, he was pretty darn close. They found their way blocked by two this time.

Hermione moaned. "I'm sorry, you two, I don't know what I'm doing, I'm so sorry…"

Ron embraced her comfortingly, and she buried her face in his chest to wait for the white pieces to move.

When she looked up, she nearly broke into tears.

Harry saw why.

There was one more slab between them and the exit, but it was occupied by a white statue. Harry looked frantically to the left, to the right, but both of them were blocked, too. Fear shooting through his body, he turned slowly to look at the stone behind them.

They were locked in. They had lost.

"Come on!" he yelled as their stone began to shake threateningly. If they didn't do something, they were going to fall to their deaths. He seized Hermione's wrist with one hand and Ron's robes with the other, and jumped to the piece directly in front of them. Harry's shoulder slammed into the statue that already occupied the slab, and he cried out in pain. Ignoring it, he inched his way rather quickly around to the other side, pulling Hermione along with him and trusting her to grab Ron.

Harry felt the slab lurch downward. With all his might, he leaped, pulling Ron and Hermione along with him. The flight through the air seemed to last for hours.

And then they landed. Harry stumbled and fell, the other two coming right down on top of him. Struggling for breath, Harry pushed himself to his feet.

"Uh-oh," he whispered. "We cheated, and they're coming."

Ron stood up beside him, reaching down to help Hermione.

"Run," she murmured.

They didn't have to be told twice. Harry paused only long enough to put an Imperturbable Charm on the door, then sprinted after the other two.

But there wasn't far to go. The room they had entered was circular, with blue carpet and bronze walls. In the middle of the room stood a chest-high pedestal with a statue of a golden eagle perched on top of it.

"Ravenclaw," Harry breathed. "He found something that belonged to Ravenclaw. Ron, don't touch it!"

Ron had reached out to the eagle, but at Harry's words he snatched his hand back as though it had been burned.

"I don't think it's safe," Harry said, getting a bit closer.

The Imperturbable Charm on the door seemed to have worked; at least stone statues weren't attacking them. Hermione gazed wonderingly at the eagle.

"It's so pretty," she said, fascinated. "I always thought I should have been put in Ravenclaw, I thought that the Sorting Hat made a mistake."

"No, Gryffindor's your house," Harry said, drawing his wand. "Both of you duck. I'm going to send a spell at it, and I don't know what's going to happen."

Sending a spell at an unknown object was not the smartest thing a wizard could do, but Harry couldn't think of a better solution. Ducking himself, he aimed his wand at the statue and said, "Expelliarmus!"

Nothing happened.

"Maybe a stronger spell…" Hermione suggested timidly.

Of course, Harry thought, if it's going to be opened with a spell, it'll be an Unforgivable Curse. "Okay," he said through gritted teeth, "here goes nothing. Imperio!"

The curse rebounded off and burned a hole in the domed ceiling, but the statue remained unscathed. "Alright, hang on. Crucio!"

Still, nothing happened.

It's the Killing Curse, Harry thought. "Ron, Hermione, put up a shield as soon as I cast this spell. Please, I don't want it to rebound and hurt you."

He raised his wand, drew a deep breath, and shouted, "Avada Kedavra!"

The spell still bounced off, but it left a small scorch mark. Hermione and Ron's shields disappeared.

"You have to mean it, Harry," Hermione said weakly. You have to want to kill."

Harry's mouth dropped open. "Want to kill? I can't do that! Who do you think I am?"

"I know, Harry," she said, distressed, "but I think that's the only way."

"Okay," he said skeptically, "I'll try it."

He gripped his wand tightly, his knuckles white, and summoned up the face of the person he hated most; Severus Snape.

"Avada Kedavra!"

The eagle exploded. Hermione screamed and threw up her arms, but the pieces bounced harmlessly off the shield she had conjured only seconds before. Ron just stared at it, protected by his own shield, his mouth wide open.

Harry got the brunt of it. Having been casting the spell and therefore unable to erect a shield, a piece hit him hard on the top of the head. His mind began swimming, and then he blacked out.

He was only unconscious for a moment, however, because when his eyes fluttered open, Hermione was just standing up and the molten remains of the eagle were still smoking. Now on the pedestal sat a tiny hourglass, held on a chain.

"It's a Timeturner," Hermione said, getting a bit closer. "Ravenclaw must have had one…."

"Well," said Harry, picking it up and pocketing it, "Now we only have to get back past an army of stone soldiers, a flock of vampire bats, and murderous weeds."

"We should Apparate," Ron said.

"I tried," Harry told him. "I think it's bewitched like Hogwarts so that you can't Apparate inside of it. I don't see any other way back."

Ron looked put out, but there was a look of dawning comprehension on Hermione's face. "Harry," she breathed, "a few weeks before you went to get the locket, Dumbledore asked me to come to his office. I didn't know why, I thought I was in trouble. But all he said was this: 'If ever you find that certain magical abilities don't work, look to the phoenix. He will help you. And Miss Granger, I would appreciate it if you didn't tell your friends until the right time comes.' I couldn't make head or tails of it until now, but it all makes sense. I think he meant that if I needed to lift the no Apparition spell off of Hogwarts for a good reason, I was supposed to find a phoenix…."

"That's right," Ron said, his eyes widening. "There's a myth that wherever a phoenix is present, anything is possible."

Harry was looking from one to the other. Then his eyes narrowed. "And where do you propose we get a phoenix?"

"I know the spell that will call them," Hermione said breathlessly. "It's different, depending on what Phoenix you want to call, but… I think I can remember Fawkes' song… hang on."

She raised her wand, and with that movement, an intense sound filled Harry's head. It was the song of the phoenix, a lovely, haunting melody that is not forgotten once it is heard. The song was not on the outside, but on the inside of Harry's very being. He had been on the verge of pointing out to Hermione that Fawkes might be gone, disappeared with his master, but then the song started and he lost all desire to speak.

And five minutes later, before his very eyes, Fawkes stood, preening his glossy red plumage.

Harry felt the memories begin to build up inside of him, stronger than ever before. He remembered every single time he had encountered the phoenix, and every time, Dumbledore had still been alive. Still, it was a relief to Harry to know that this small part of his beloved Headmaster remained alive.

Harry reached down and allowed Fawkes to jump up on his arm. He stroked the bird's feathers. He was once again nearing the time where he would burst into flame and be reborn out of his ashes, so he looked utterly dismal. Harry remembered that it had been this stage the phoenix had been in when he first saw him. He smiled slightly at the memory.

"Hello, Fawkes," he said softly, gazing into the bird's fathomless eyes. "Are you ready to let us go home?"

As if in reply, Fawkes fluttered down to the ground and began crying. As the third pearly tear slid down and splashed into the velvet carpet, Harry could almost feel something lift off, and he knew he'd be able to Apparate again if he tried.

"Thank you, Fawkes," he whispered, gathering the phoenix into his arms. He turned to Ron and Hermione. "Are you ready? We'll Apparate back to number twelve, Grimauld place. On the count of three. One…"

As Harry counted, he pondered over how easy the retrieval of this Horcrux had been compared to the last one. Had Voldemort been in a hurry, been running out of materials, perhaps been preoccupied and therefore careless? Maybe it was a trick, and this wasn't the real Horcrux.

But somehow, he felt it was. He could almost feel the weight of a piece of Voldemort's soul weighing down in his pocket.

"Two." He watched Ron and Hermione scrunch up their eyes in concentration. He did the same.

"Three."

And in barely seconds, they stood on the street called Grimauld Place.

A/N: I'm sorry I reused J.K. Rowling's idea of a life-sized board game. I loved that part when I read the first book, and I wanted to save my better ones (meaning I'm stalling for time) for bigger Horcruxes. And anyway, that's what this site is all about: stealing other people's ideas and calling them your own. Right?