Chapter 7

Messy, but Got the Job Done

Ron and Harry slipped out of the Burrow at 1:00 am and stalked down the road leading away from the property until they were sure they could apparate without being heard. They nodded at each other and with a crack disappeared.

They had agreed to meet Hermione under a tree in a secluded part of the parking lot to the museum, so that they could be all together before attempting to apparate into the museum itself. When Harry and Ron reappeared, only a few feet from their destination, they quickly checked themselves to be sure they did not leave an eyebrow or ear behind. Half a minute later, Hermione arrived with a crack and rushed over to the other two. All dressed in dark clothing.

"Let's go over this one last time," instructed Harry quietly, "As soon as we apparate into the room, Ron will check the door to see if any guards are around. Hermione will use the silencio charm. Then we'll check out the cabinet to see if there are any wards or protections.

Hermione and Ron nodded. Both were extremely nervous, but Harry felt strangely calm, almost relieved, to be taking action at last.

"Ready?" asked Harry, "Good. On the count of three."

Crack. The sound of apparation reverberated through the dark, silent museum. Surely any security guard would have heard it. Ron immediately edged to the side of the door to see if anyone was coming and saw the flickering of a flashlight down the hall approaching them.

"Someone's coming," he whispered.

Hermione was about to say, "Silencio," but Harry stopped her, pulling out his invisibility cloak. Without a word, he motioned the other two to get under the cloak. Given their size, this was easier said than done, but they crouched down by the floor and huddled together. They could feel their hearts pumping and their warm moist breath, as the guard, who had heard the crack and was investigating, stepped into the room and shone his light all around. He did not linger however, probably because nothing of special value resided in this small alcove. If someone intended to burgle the museum, they would be after the valuable artifacts. In a few moments the guard satisfied himself and continued down the hall.

The burglars remained under the cloak for another minute until Harry finally instructed Ron, "Check the entry again." Ron silently stepped to the opening and looked both ways. He turned and gave the thumbs up.

"Do the spell," he ordered Hermione, who emerged from the cloak and pronounced, "Silencio" in a quiet but firm voice. They now could not be heard, but they continued to whisper regardless. Harry and Hermione slipped under the thick red cord and carefully approached the cabinet holding the cup. They paused for a moment. This just seemed too easy, thought Harry, compared to the horrors he saw in the cave with Dumbledore - swimming the cold ocean waters, blood sacrifices, forcing the headmaster to drink that infernal potion, and of course the inferi.

"Should we open it," asked Hermione, implicitly recognizing Harry as their general and Ron and she as soldiers.

Harry shook his head, "Wait. Let me try something." Slowly Harry raised his hands and brushed them across the dark walnut cabinet, just as Dumbledore ran his hands along the wall of the cave. The young wizard had no idea what he was trying to feel, but he concentrated on feeling magic in his hands. He felt nothing until his hands crossed in front of the horcrux, and then he felt plenty. First his fingers, then his hands, then his arms felt numb, similar to the tingling in his scar but distinct as well. Definitely magical energy of some sort, but Harry had no idea how to "read" the energy like the headmaster could. He rapidly moved his hands away from the spot, and they returned to normal. The good news was that he felt no other "magical energy" in the rest of the cabinet. Apparently it was just a plain muggle cabinet, not magically enhanced in any way. His right hand reached to turn the latch to open the walnut-bordered glass door encasing Hufflepuff's cup. The door was locked.

"Open it, please," Harry requested in a monotone, now completely focused on the object in front of him. Hermione opened her mouth to say something, but after noting Harry's demeanor, she closed it again.

"Alohomora," she intoned, and they heard the lock click open. Hermione bit her lower lip.

Taking a deep breath, Harry opened the door, moving back a step to let it pass in front of him, then stepping back to the opening.

"Is anyone coming, Ron?" he asked.

"No. Nothing at all"

Harry carefully reached both hands towards the cup, expecting something to happen. There had to be some kind of ward around the cup, some kind of protection. This was too easy.

"Be careful, Harry!" sputtered Hermione involuntarily. She was shaking with fear as to what could happen to her best friend. Danger is never real until it hits you in the face.

Nothing impeded his hands, so Harry did the obvious; he wrapped his hands gently around the bowl of the cup. Nothing happened, except that his hands and arms became numb, just the magical energy, Harry decided instinctively. He knew the numbness was not a ward. It would not harm him.

Gradually the cup emerged from the cabinet, and Hermione backed up two steps to keep out of the way. One of the points of the plan required that neither Ron nor Hermione touch Harry or the horcrux. Now what? thought Harry.

He tried to concentrate on the horcrux, tried to feel the partial soul, tried to engage it in battle, but he felt only the uncomfortable but bearable numbness. Harry's mind worked furiously, comparing this horcrux to the diary and the ring. What was the connection? What was the common element?

Suddenly it dawned on him. He had to use the object in the manner intended. The ring had to be put on a finger. The diary had to be opened and read. Harry needed to drink from the cup.

A wave of panic caused his body to shudder as he remembered the fate of Dumbledore when he drank the poisoned potion. Pain. This was going to be painful. But to engage in battle, he needed to drink.

"Harry," Hermione cried desperately, "let's try to kill it with magic. Maybe there is some way, some spell. . . ."

"No, Hermione, only power, pure magical power, and lots of it," Harry whispered in a semi-trance. Not wanting to remove either hand from the cup to reach his wand, Harry turned to the shaken Hermione and instructed, "Fill the cup with water, please."

"What? You're going to drink from it? Oh Harry, there must be another way," argued Hermione.

"There is no other way. I'm ready to kill it. WATER!" Harry ordered and thrust the horcrux closer to her.

Reluctantly and with shaking wand, Hermione said, "Aguamenti." Pure cold water poured from the end of her wand into the cup, which held about two cupfuls. She looked at Ron, who watched the scene in numb silence.

"I have to drink it all," Harry muttered to himself, though Hermione and Ron both heard him. He remembered Dumbledore's instructions to him in the cave, but he did not give any orders to Hermione or Ron. Inexorably the cup moved closer to his lips, and suddenly a tremendous urge to drink the water came over him. The horcrux was challenging him to battle. Hermione gasped as Harry downed the water in one huge gulp. She stopped breathing and waited.

Fire went down Harry's throat, down the esophagus, and into the stomach. In a matter of seconds, his insides turned into a cauldron of molten lava. Pain beyond description. Harry wanted to scream, but his vocal chords did not function. His body began to tremble, then shake, and then convulse uncontrollably. The Boy Who Lived fell to the cold marble floor writhing in pain, his eyes sealed shut, sweat pouring from his pores.

"HARRY!" cried Hermione, who violated one of the most important points of their plan. She touched him. An electric jolt exploded through her body, throwing her backward five feet unconscious on the floor.

"Hermione!" yelled Ron who rushed to her side but knew better than to touch her. Sometimes pure-blooded wizards had better instincts in these matters. Purity of blood, however, did nothing to quell the pure panic in his brain. The powerful one was thrashing about on the floor; the brilliant one was lying unconscious on the floor, and now what was he supposed to do.

Ron rushed back to the door to make sure the guards had not returned to the area when his heart dropped. Light from two flashlights illuminated the hall to the right of him, some fifty yards away, coming towards him. He cursed. Think, Ron, think! Seeing the invisibility cloak, he flung it over Hermione, but he saw no way to hide Harry. The room was dark and the silencing charm meant that the guards could not hear them. Maybe, Ron hoped, the guards would just walk by the nondescript alcove without checking it. Time stopped as the guards advanced towards him.

"That was a weird crack we 'eard, wasn' it." commented a tall portly guard to his companion, a shorter, thinner and darker man, perhaps middle eastern in origin.

"Sounded like a car backfiring, but there are no cars around here," said the shorter guard in a mild accent. He must have been an immigrant who had lived in England for many years, for his command of the language was excellent. Ron held his breath as they were passing by the opening to the alcove.

He nearly jumped for joy as they passed out of view when he heard the immigrant say, "Wait, I thought I saw something in there."

"Oh no!" thought Ron as he pointed his wand trying to decide what to do. Give Ronald Weasley ten minutes to ponder a chess move, and he can be brilliant, but ask him to make a decision under pressure, and . . . Later he would think of all of the options he had. He could have confunded the guards, making them turn away for no reason. He could have caused a noise back down the hall as a diversion. He could have levitated Hermione out of view and then tried to hold the invisibility cloak in front of Harry and himself. But he did none of those things. Instead he waited as the guard entered the alcove and pointed his flashlight right at Harry, who remained oblivious to his presence.

"What's going on here!" shouted the shorter guard fearfully, for he had never encountered a burglar in the museum before.

"Stupefy" yelled Ron, and the guard crumpled to the floor.

The corpulent guard was shocked as he saw his coworker fall to the floor for no apparent reason, as he had heard nothing. The guard pulled his gun confidently, in the manner of a former military man. Someone had to be in there, probably hiding behind the wall next to the opening, which in fact was where Ron was standing, his back pressed to the wall. Despite his considerable size, the guard moved quickly and gracefully. He jumped into the room and crouched, hearing the word "stupefy" and a jet of light flash over his head.

Though shocked, he pointed his gun at Ron and yelled, "Stop or I'll shoot. Get your hands above your head."

Ron knew enough about the muggle world to recognize a revolver, and he slowly lifted his hands. In the dark the guard could not see Ron's wand, and without warning, Ron turned and disappeared with a crack. The guard froze, not believing his eyes. The last thing he heard was the word "stupefy", and he remembered no more. Ron had apparated behind him and stunned him.

"Breathe," Ron told himself, and he gasped air. He went back to the alcove's opening and checked to be sure that there were no other guards. Surveying the scene in front of him, he commented to himself, "Messy, but got the job done."

"Accio cloak," said Ron pointing his wand at the area where Hermione was lying, and the invisibility cloak whooshed into his hands. Ron then directed his attention back at Harry. He muttered, "Lumos," and pointed the light from his wand at his friend. Harry appeared to be in a deep trance, unconscious but not exactly unconscious, and he still gripped Hufflepuff's cup fiercely. Something was functioning inside of him, but Ron could not even hazard a guess. In any event, Harry no longer seemed to be in pain, and that had to be a good sign. Since he could do nothing for his best mate, he moved to Hermione's side, flicking his wand. "Ennervate." Hermione began to stir.

"What happened?" she asked, as she felt all of the muscles in her body ache.

"You touched him." She shook her head in disgust.

"I wasn't supposed to do that. I saw Harry in so much pain, and I forgot."

"Understandable."

"How is he now?" asked Hermione as she edged closer, but not too close to Harry. She rubbed her temples to ease a terrible headache.

"No way to know," replied Ron, "At least he isn't flopping around like a fish out of water anymore."

Hermione frowned at Ron's flippant analogy. Harry could be dying for all they knew. She looked away from him and for the first time noticed the two security guards on the marble floor by the entry to the alcove.

"What happened?"

"Stunned them. I was hoping they would walk by but the thin one came in and saw us," explained Ron, "I had no choice. The fat one jumped in with his, what do you call it, firearm pointed at me." He pointed to the barrel of the revolver sticking out from under the guard's shoulder.

"He could have killed you," realized Hermione with a shudder.

"Tell me about it," retorted Ron, "I had to apparate behind him because he ducked under my first stunner. Thought I was a goner for a second. Fortunately he didn't shoot right away, just told me to put my hands up."

Hermione sighed, "Well, nothing we can do now but wait. We'll modify their memories before we leave."

"You mean 'you'll modify their memories' because I can't do it," Ron reminded her. They sat down with their backs against the wall and waited for their motionless friend to finish his battle.

xxxxxxxxxx

The initial fiery fury of the lava inside Harry slowly subsided, and for the first time he could sense the horcrux inside of him. He could feel it spreading, attempting to take him over, to control him, to make his body the mere shell for the partial soul. Harry began to panic. He could feel it happening but could do nothing to stop it. Concentrate! he yelled at himself, and he tried to pinpoint the horcrux to attack it.

After minutes of intense struggle, where Harry unknowingly was flailing on the museum tile, he found something. Power, he told himself, You have the power. Use it! The horcrux no longer spread through his body; instead it now directed itself to Harry's center. His soul. The horcrux wanted his soul. You can't have it! cried Harry, and he focused all of his magical energy to that spot, and the battle began in earnest.

Harry could now hear a "voice," not a true voice but some means of communication. The horcrux informed him that it needed his soul, that it would make him greater than he could ever dream.

"You will be feared and respected by all, witches and wizards alike. I can show you true power. Power to control others. Power to defeat all rivals."

"I already have power," Harry taunted the partial soul, "I have already defeated you. You cannot control me. You are no match for me."

"Yes, I can feel your power, but you are young. But a boy still. You are still foolish and naive. Understand what I can do for you, what we can do together! We can be great."

"I know who you are, Tom Riddle. I know what you have done. I know what you have become." Harry informed the horcrux, "You are no longer human. You have become grotesque. Why should I desire your power? I have all that I need to be happy."

"Happiness does not exist," the horcrux scoffed, "Only power exists. Only power matters. Come to your senses boy, for one way or the other I will occupy your soul, and Lord Voldemort will come alive again! If you choose to resist, then I will destroy you. But if you cooperate, together we can be great."

"Do you not know me?" cried Harry, "I am Harry Potter, the boy who lived, the boy that you have failed to kill five times, the boy you fear above all others. I have the power to destroy you, and I give you no options. You must die."

"Pity," responded the horcrux insultingly, "You have chosen."

"Yes, I have chosen, and I am the Chosen One."

During the course of this conversation, Harry unconsciously gained his bearings; he developed a feel for the horcrux. He felt that he was able to amass his power in a huge ball of electricity and direct it where he wished. As he ended the conversation, he threw the ball of power directly at the horcrux.

The horcrux was powerful however, and absorbed the attack. Nevertheless, Harry felt that damage had been done, and his energy pounced on the invader. In a moment he felt himself completely entwined with it, like two wrestlers on the mat. Harry was reminded of his duel between the brother wands, a duel of pure power and desire.

At first, Harry felt himself surge, and he was sure that the horcrux would be crushed at any moment. He could feel its desperation, but like a cornered animal, the horcrux counterattacked, and Harry did all he could to hold on. He felt himself slipping off a cliff. Pushing back, the combatants reached a level of equality. Harry had a moment to assess his situation, and it was not good. He felt weak and unsure whether he could withstand another push. There was no energy to fight back now; he was merely hanging on, waiting to be finished off.

Faces flashed by his mind's eye, Mrs. Weasley's, and Hagrid's. Then Dumbledore's face, looking sadly disappointed.

"I have failed," he thought, "Where is all that power I'm supposed to have, Professor?"

"It's inside you, Harry," said Dumbledore's voice, "its love. Remember all those who love you and all whom you love. That is where true power lies."

"Love," Harry thought. Who did he love above all others? The face of Ginny appeared, then Ron's, then Hermione's. Harry felt a surge inside of him.

"Listen to me, Harry Potter. I believe in you!" Harry heard the voice of Hermione from just a few days before.

"I cannot fail," he urged himself, just as he felt the horcrux renew the battle. So much time had passed that Harry felt that the horcrux itself must be badly damaged; otherwise, it would have attacked before. The new attack did not have the same ferocity as the others. The horcrux was a wounded animal, and Harry had to finish it off.

Ron and Hermione sat in almost complete silence watching Harry for over an hour. His body would be deathly still for extended periods of time, almost lifeless except for his chest expanding ever so slightly as he breathed. From time to time he tensed and spasmed for a couple of minutes before returning to stillness.

"You can do it, Harry!" muttered Hermione under his breath, "You have to do it! We are lost without you."

"He's got enough pressure as it is, Hermione. Don't add to it," said Ron with a hint of irritation. He was tired of everyone expecting the world from Harry. Harry may be the Chosen One, but to Ron, he was just Harry.

They lapsed into silence again, and Hermione illuminated her watch to check on the time - 3:15 am. What would they do if Harry did not snap out of it?

But within moments of that thought, Harry's body convulsed again, and he levitated inches off the floor for five or ten seconds, and then thumped back to the ground. The cup remained tightly gripped in his hands, until after several more spasms, his body relaxed completely. He unclenched his hands, and Hufflepuff's cup rolled off his chest and onto the floor with a clunk.

The two friends could not breathe. Was he dead? Clearly the battle had ended, but the victor was not yet declared. Hermione crawled the ten feet to Harry, but was afraid to touch him. Instead she waved her hand over the cup. Nothing. The cup emitted no energy at all, and she knew that Voldemort's partial soul was no longer there. It either died or remained inside of Harry. Or perhaps it and Harry both died.

She waved her hand over Harry's head and chest, but again felt nothing. Gathering her courage, as Ron looked on in rapt attention, she touched Harry's cheek with her hand, caressing the cheek when she discovered that she had not been electrocuted again. Harry moved his head slightly to the caress.

"He's alive," she cried with a smile.

Ron heaved a huge sigh of relief but then decided that action was necessary.

"Where can we take him? He won't wake up for a while by the look of it. We need to get out of here. It's getting late."

"To the Burrow," decided Hermione, "We can apparate outside your house from here and then levitate him to his bed. It's not even 3:30 yet, so everyone will be asleep. You can tell everyone that he was feeling ill and wanted to get some extra sleep. Hopefully he'll wake up before too long."

And so the soldiers went to work. Ron awakened the two guards, after which Hermione immediately obliviated their memories and then confunded them so that they walked off in a daze.

"Where were we going, Ahmed? I forgot." they heard as the guards walked away.

They picked a spot to arrive at the Burrow not far from the house. Hermione had never side-along apparated before, but as she was a better apparator than Ron, she lifted Harry's arm, turned and was gone. After replacing the cup in its spot and returning the alcove to its previous condition, Ron followed. In a few minutes, they had Harry in his bed. Hermione looked at him with worry etched on her face, and she caressed Harry's cheek one more time.

She gave Ron a hug as she made her way out.

"Owl me tomorrow. I want to know how he's doing."