A Story of Hallows and Horcruxes

Disclaimer: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by J.K. Rowling, various publishers including but not limited to Bloomsbury, Scholastic, and Raincoats Books, and Warner Brothers Inc. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended. I do not own Harry Potter or anything related to Harry Potter.

Chapter 5
Hook, Line And Sinker

The morning Sun's rays filtered through the closed shades of the window and fell on the closed eyes of one, Harry Potter. Harry tossed around in the bed and put up his arm to cover his eyes and tried to go back to sleep.

Unable to return to the dreamy unconsciousness of slumber, he decided that he might just as well get up. He sat up on the bed and pulled aside the covers, twisting his body to work out the kinks, careful enough not to over stretch himself.

He picked up his glasses from his bedside table and pulled out his wand from underneath the pillow. A flick towards the direction of the cupboard with his wand and a set of clothes flew out from it.

Harry got off the bed and slowly walked out of the smallest bedroom of the house at No.4 Privet Drive, a pair of denim jeans and tee shirt following him, soaring through the air. He walked into the bathroom and locked the door behind him. Another flick of his wand and luke-warm water flew from the tip of his wand, filling up the bathtub. As the tub filled up with water, he attended to his morning ablutions - brushing his teeth, emptying his bladder.

Harry grabbed a small container off the storage cupboard and emptied its fruity smelling contents in the tub brimming with hot water. He used his wand to mix the solution and the water, before stripping off completely and stepping into the tub. He slid down until only his nose remained above the water level.

The solution he had mixed with water was something that he had brewed himself. He had found the directions for the salve in the Half-Blood Prince's book. Harry found it easier to think of him that way, then as Snape, the murderer of Dumbledore. He'd liberated the book when he had left Hogwarts at the end of his sixth year, debating that he might as well use every resource available to him. And it was lucky that he had, for ever since he'd started using the slave, he found that his aches had started bothering him a lot less and his wounds were healing at an acclerated pace. And there had been a lot of wounds on his body after the debacle at Hogwarts.

Harry stretched his right leg out of the foamy water and looked at it with interest. His leg looked unnaturally thin, with the claves shaped in a grotesque manner and the musculature looking twisted. Harry's attempts at healing had not been completely successful, far from it. While he had managed to remove the broken bone; the action of the Skele-Gro had not gone perfectly. He had been able to re-grow his bone back; it however wasn't as it had been before. And he was now forced to walk with a permanent limp and certain positions would send sharp jabs of pain through his leg.

He dipped his leg back into the water and let the salve work on it. His leg had not been the sole injury that he had garnered while infiltrating Hogwarts. His entire body had been black and blue and the effect of the Cruciatus, no matter how short in duration, was long lasting, especially in the absence of medical help. The salve was however, helping his body cope with the dull ache that had become a permanent presence.

Harry got out of the tub, after spending nearly half an hour in it, water dripping from his naked body onto the tiles. He grasped his wand from toilet seat and lightly tapped his head with it. A gentle cocoon of warm air wrapped around Harry, evaporating the water from his body. He felt himself completely dry as the wind dispelled.

Standing in front of the mirror in the bathroom, he found himself staring into a gaunt and thin looking teenager. His pupils were blood-shot and there were dark bags under his eyes. His body was marred with criss-crossing wounds, some half-open and still oozing, while others had started to scab and there were innumerable bruises that were scattered across his body. A dark blue throbbing shiner on his forehead when he'd impacted head first along the wall during his duel with Alecto to long thick strips of red discoloration across his chest from his fight with Nagini, where the snake had tried to squeeze him to death. He sighed, at least he looked better than the first time he'd seen his reflection in the mirror, when had come to No. 4 a week previously. The salve was indeed doing wonders for his body.

Harry looked at the biceps of his left arm; it was wrapped in ragged bandages that had turned a dark brown. "Diffindo!" cast Harry carefully, making sure not to cut up his arm. The bandages fell open and Harry promptly Vanished them.

A noxious and revolting smell of rotten flesh filled up the bathroom coming from the wound on his biceps. The crinkled skin had turned black and looked as if it had died and there were parts where the skin was peeling off displaying reddish brown flesh. There was a deep gush in the middle of the huge black area.

Alecto's curse had done a number on him. No matter what he tried, the wound refused to heal. He had not even managed to seal it. The Cutter had very nearly ended up slicing his bone. Unable to repair the damage, Harry was forced to change bandages every day, since they turned torn and ragged after a single day of use. Harry was sure that the curse was poisonous, since, his flesh seemed to be dying bit by bit. It wasn't anything like Professor Dumbledore's wound, but it was similar.

Harry pulled out a Wound Cleansing Potion from the storage cupboard and gingerly applied it on the wound. Purple smoke flew from the injury at the application of salve as Harry gritted his teeth as he felt his flesh burn. The burning sensation passed leaving the skin fresh and clean.

He twirled his wand and Conjured himself a roll of bandages. He unwrapped the roll and fetched himself a bottle of Essence of Murtlap from the cupboard and dipped the fresh bandage in the Murtlap, allowing it to soak up the potion. With practiced movements, Harry tied the wet bandage around his wound, before covering the wrapping with another roll of dry bandages.

He picked up the vials of potion that he had used and put them back into the storage cupboard before dressing himself. His morning ritual done, he left the bathroom.

Harry descended the flight of stairs into the living room and turned towards the kitchen to cook breakfast. He cast a wary eye on the cupboard beneath the stairs as he passed it by and started at it for a few moments. Finding the door locked and secure, Harry went on his way to the kitchen.

Delicious smells of frying bacon filled his nostrils. Harry had sat himself on a Conjured stool and was directing the frying pans, which cooked the bacon and a piece of omelette, while oranges were being squeezed into fresh juice with his wand. As he concentrated to maintain control over the flying pots and pans, Harry realized that he had learned something from his week long stay at Privet Drive.

When he had first attempted to try his hand at cooking with his wand, his results had only been charred mess that had no resemblance to what they should have been like. He would have simply avoided the entire trouble and cooked muggle way, if not for Slughorn's advice during the past year to try and do everything possible magically and that meant dressing up magically, making his bed and even cooking his food. Apparently, it was supposed to teach him precision. Harry had no idea whether he had improved his skills with these techniques, but he felt that once mastered, doing something with magic felt so much easier than doing it the mundane way.

As a plate flew towards him with hot bacon and omelette with a glass filled with orange juice, Harry realised that he had also managed to learn how to cook with his wand.

He dug into his food with gusto, all the while contemplating how to proceed further from his current quandary. When he had left Hogwarts grievously wounded a week ago on top of a Thestral, he had gone straight to his hide-out cave in Hogsmeade. He had not wasted a moment, packing his things, fearing Death Eaters would be on his trail very soon. It was only as he was about to leave that he faced the dilemma of choosing his next hide-out. In the panic of the moment he had simply Apparated to Privet Drive, which in retrospect was quite a brilliant idea.

Death Eaters were unlikely to search through a place they had already rather thoroughly ransacked once. And No. 4 was indeed in quite a deplorable condition when he had arrived. The Dursley's large TV had been broken to pieces, not that Harry minded it one bit, cause the Dursley's had never allowed him to watch. The sofas were ripped to shreds; the entire house was topsy turvy. Ironically, the only two places that had seemed to escape with the least damages were his smallest bedroom and the cupboard beneath the stairs.

His breakfast competed; he dispatched the dishes to the sink with a tiny flick of his wand, where they began to wash themselves.

He picked up another plate of a dry piece of sandwich and filled up a glass with water from the sink for his guest. As he stood outside the cupboard beneath the stairs, the plate and the glass hovering in front of him, leaving his wand free to attack or defend, Harry took a deep breath to steady himself before mentally going through the plan.

He moved his wand deliberately through long strokes and undid some of the numerous charms and curses and wards that he had placed. As the door opened with a tiny click, Harry stole a glance inside. The darkness did not allow him to discern much, but he was sure form the heavy breathing that his captive was awake.

With renewed determination, Harry stepped into the darkness of the small cupboard and immediately felt the heaviness of the thick wards, which he had place to ensure his captive's imprisonment and were still active.

Harry found Rudolphus Lestrange looking at him through unblinking eyes, sheer rage evident in them. As he sent the food flying towards Lestrange, the veteran Death Eater leapt out of the bed, jumping towards Harry with a primal scream of fury. His bared teeth would not have looked out of place on a hyena's mouth as he snapped them towards his captor as if trying to bite off his flesh. Lestrange's body stopped abruptly a few feet short of Harry, as heavy iron chains wrapped around his neck and limbs forced him back to his prone form on the bed.

Harry had not given ground at Rudolphus' – if truth be told – rather scary display. However, his heart was beating so forcefully in his chest that he was surprised that he couldn't hear it out loud and from Rudolphus' blood-thirsty grin, the man knew the fear he'd caused. Harry sneered at the Death Eater angrily, having been caught off-foot before he could even begin his plans of negotiation and snarled, "Your breakfast, Lestrange. Much better than the gruel they feed you at Azkaban, I'm sure. So, eat up."

The man looked at him, with opaque eyes, inner emotions indiscernible, before using his flabby fingers to pick up the sandwich. Harry snickered a bit as he saw the man try to eat with boneless fingers. The man gave him an angry glare in return before gobbling up his food.

Harry had never attempted to Vanish bones before and as such was cautious against the results of a mangled first attempt. Unwilling to use his broken leg as the first target, Harry turned towards Lestrange for experimentation. And it had been quite fortunate that he did, since, his first attempt had showed less than desirable result and consequently, Lestrange's right hand fingers bore the injury. And as a result the man could no longer even twitch his fingers of his right hand without causing himself terrible pain. Apparently, the bones had only half-vanished leaving the reaming bits intact. It was only by the time Harry had progressed to Lestrange's left hand that he had been satisfied enough with the results that he had felt comfortable enough to cast the spell on his own leg.

"Much better than what you have feeding me the past few days, Potter," Rudolphus said out loud, breaking Harry from his thoughts. "Progress like this and you'll soon become talented enough to be a house-elf."

"A house-elf who has managed to imprison the big-bad Rudolphus Lestrange. Makes me wonder whether all the hype about you was just because of dear old Bellatrix," retorted Harry, spitting out Bellatrix's name.

Rudolphus in turn bared his teeth and blew out his nostrils angrily but didn't make another comment. Harry had learned from making small talk with the Death Eater that Lestrange took any slight against his capability very seriously.

"But then again I remember your curses in Hogwarts ... quite powerful. Especially those high flying blasting spells you were throwing around at the start. You mustn't be without your shred of talent then," said Harry with careful doses of flattery, he needed something from the man and it was best he kept him in a good enough mood, till he acquiesced. "What was it, anyways?" Harry queried.

"Addendums, Potter. Real magic cast by real wizards, beyond your abilities." The man sneered at him, but seemed pleased at his talents being respected by the enemy.

Harry didn't bother to argue back. He had after all never heard of the term addendums before. He would have to look into it.

"How would you like to be set free, Rudolphus?" asked Harry cautiously.

"What do you want Potter? Speak plainly. Subtly doesn't suit a simpleton like you." Rudolphus snarled at Harry.

Damn, caught at the first attempt. Perhaps I should just ask what I want.

Throwing caution to the wind, Harry said, "You have a vault in Gringotts, don't you, Lestrange?"

"Yes, of course. An old and respected family like the Lestrange's obviously would have a vault at Gringotts. What do you want with it? Need gold." He laughed. "Potter, the Dark Lord is hunting for you, d'you really expect that you can go to a shop and splurge on toys."

"I don't need your gold, Lestrange. You have a rather curious item in your vault. A goblet, to be more precise." Lestrange's eye widened at the breadth of knowledge that Harry was displaying.

"What do you want with the Hufflepuff's cup, Potter? It's useless to you. It's a showpiece, fool. All the rumours of hidden powers are just that, rumours, nothing more."

Harry was surprised that that the man knew about the cup's origin, but did not comment on it. Lestranges after all did come from an old line of Purebloods; it was possible that he knew about the precious Founder's object, especially, since he was given the task of guarding it.

"Of course, it's useless. But I want it anyways. You master wants his trophy to remain safe," scoffed Harry, making it sound like it was a case of petty vengeance, "and that's enough reason for me to want it," said Harry, deliberately undermining the importance of the cup.

Lestrange leaned back on the narrow cot. Harry allowed the man the time to make his decision, not trying to force, no matter how vital it was that Harry ensured his cooperation. It was best if Harry did not let his captive know of the extent of importance of the task.

"What if I refuse?" Lestrange spoke out softly.

"I'm sure you remember the bodies of Amycus and Yaxley," Harry replied immediately. And perhaps a bit too quickly. It was a question, Harry already had prepared the answer for. He knew Lestrange was going to ask it.

Lestrange kept his eyes shut, appeared to be thinking on the matter.

He opened his eyes slowly and looked at Harry with a mocking smile on his face. "You killed Amycus and Yaxley in the heat of the battle, Potter. Can you really kill someone in cold blood? A premeditated act of murder, Potter. Can you do it?"

Harry blinked, and Lestrange cottoned on to his weakness. The Death Eater gave a harsh laugh and said, "Can you do it? Be a murderer. Think about Dumbledore. What would the old man say? What would your parents think?" Lestrange asked mockingly.

And with that Rudolphus had pressed his finger on the sore nerve. Harry had debated long and hard with himself during the lonely hours in the past week. He had killed people, killed them brutally. And Dumbledore had been right all along, killing someone was not quite as easy as the innocent seemed to believe. No matter the fact that those he'd killed were already murderers, no matter that if he hadn't killed them, then they would have killed him. The fact remained that he had killed someone. He'd argued long and hard with his own conscience that he had only acted in self defence and that had he not done so, they would have surely killed him. It was only in the last day or two that he had accepted his actions and the necessity of the circumstances. He understood the need of doing what he had done. He did not enjoy killing someone, but he refused to beat himself over it.

However, killing someone in the heat of the battle was different from murdering a man who was for all purposes at his mercy. That would be a murder, and Harry refused to go down that path and Lestrange had caught his bluff.

Harry gritted his teeth, and snarled, "Maybe you are right, may be I can't kill you." Lestrange gave a croaking laugh at Harry's admission. "However, look at where you are, Lestrange. No one knows whether you're alive or dead. And I assure you that no one is looking for you either."

"I won't kill you Lestrange, if you don't help me." Harry gave a small smile, and continued, "But then again, I won't have to. I'll just leave you to your fate here, all alone and broken. Think for a moment what would happen to you without food and water."

Lestrange's eyes widened at that. Apparently, he had not thought of Harry just leaving him to die, alone and imprisoned without food and water. It was unlikely that he could go on for more than a month without sustenance.

"I'll leave you to dwell on the matter, shall I?" asked Harry. "And just that there are no interruptions in your deep thinking, I won't disturb you by bringing your evening meal." The threat was not lost on the Death Eater.

Harry gave his captive a large and fake smile and slowly walked out of the tiny cupboard, closing the door behind him and reapplying the protections on it.

Harry mentally thumped his shoulder on a job well done. He had been caught off guard with Lestrange, but had made a quick escape with some fast thinking. And Harry had to admit, the idea had its merit. If the Death Eater did indeed refused to cooperate, Harry would just leave Private Drive and try to search for another means to break into Gringotts, leaving Rudolphus Lestrange imprisoned. Since, while Harry was unwilling to kill the Death Eater, he had no compunctions to let the man meet his fate. After all, there was no way Harry was going to set him free, considering all the vile crimes that he had committed.

As Harry started walking towards his bedroom on the first floor, he could not help but feel that he had been extremely lucky. He had captured Rudolphus with the intention of interrogating him about the current state of the wizarding world and about Voldemort's activities. His original plan had yielded no result, the veteran Death Eater had all but shrugged off Harry's novice attempts at questioning, going so far as to mock Harry about his skills at torturing information from a prisoner. It had made Harry realise one thing that while he had the guts to do what needed to be done during a battle, he simply did not have the stomach to torture a captive, even if the captive was someone like Lestrange.

That had made Harry try something more innovative. Legilimency had given results what he had not been able to achieve conventionally. A Befuddlement Draught fed with his daily meal and hours of thorough attempts at finding information from the Death Eater's mind had allowed Harry to garner some semblance of knowledge about the current wizarding world.

He was still far from an expert in the mind arts, and the only reason of his success was the Death Eater's equally pathetic defence of his mind. Harry wondered if it was Azkaban that had torn whatever defences Lestrange once had. Regardless, Harry had gotten the information that he had sought. And he had received more than that.

The Death Eater apparently knew nothing about Nagini's presence in the Chamber Of Secrets, but that was to be expected. Harry had learned from Dumbledore that Voldemort never divulged his true plans to his Death Eaters. The reason of the presence of Yaxley and Lestrange at Hogwarts was simply to inform Snape about the going-on's of the Ministry. Since, Voldemort was out of the country, and Harry knew that from some little flashes that he had of the Dark Lord every once in a while, despite his own Occlumency and Lestrange had confirmed it, Snape was apparently left in charge. He did not command the Death Eaters, but he was the one to whom the rest reported the trivial matters. Harry personally wondered if it was Snape's reward for killing Dumbledore, and it only served to make him hate the man more.

While all this information gave him some idea of the state of the Ministry, they were of no real importance to him. However, in his search through the Death Eater's mind, Harry had uncovered a one short glimpse of the Hufflepuff's cup. A desperate search later, he found out that Voldemort had given his Horcrux to the Lestrange's to store it in their vault. It actually made sense; Gringotts was a place for the rich and the wealthy. The long lines of purebloods stored their heritage heirlooms and vast riches there. And as Dumbledore had demonstrated to Harry, Voldemort was attracted by the glamour and power of the wizarding world.

However, while Harry may have found about the location of the next Horcrux, he was far from acquiring it. Breaking into Gringotts was not the same thing as infiltrating Hogwarts. He had sincere doubts whether his Invisibility Cloak could get him into the vaunted security of the goblin bank. And that was why he needed Lestrange's help.

As Harry entered back into his small bedroom, he hoped that a few days with no sustenance would perhaps make Lestrange more agreeable to his demands.

O

It had been three days since Harry had threatened the Death Eater. And for three days, the man had gone without food and water. Sitting on the bed surrounded by various books, Harry thought it was time to find about the Death Eater's decision. He needed Rudolphus' help but if the man refused, Harry was not averse to letting the man die from starvation. He would just let destiny decide Lestrange's fate and leave Privet Drive and search for another way into Gringotts.

Harry absent-mindedly flicked his wrist and gave his wand a forward jab with a slight jerking motion. A pale blue bolt of magic flew out of his wand and impacted a wooden plate that he'd conjured earlier. Harry sighed as the Piercing curse drilled a hole on the thin strip of wood, but failed to do anything else. This addendum thing was turning out more difficult then he had thought previously.

When Lestange had first mentioned it, Harry had to search through his entire collection of the Auror manuals before he found the topic in a book of advanced magical techniques. The book contained some very nice ideas on non-verbal casting, effective and fast use of transfiguration in duelling, tips on trick draws and simultaneous transfiguration and descriptions of various other handy tricks to employ during a duel. Harry had never bothered with the book before, spending most of his time increasing his spell repertoire. However, as he soon found out while searching for addendums, the book was a treasure trove of information. Most of the things in the book, Harry had no idea about, and despite his best attempts to decipher and understand them in the last three days, they went over his head. He found addendums at the very end of the text. It was a fascinating concept and it also happened to be insanely difficult.

Addendums in plain words nothing more than additions that were made to a spell to give it some additional properties. It was not a spell or a curse; it was a technique to spell casting. The additions that were made to a spell could be different things. It could be a small incantation added at the end of the generic spell or perhaps a tiny addition of wand movement in the original spell. The benefits were also varied and depended on the type of additions made. They could give a spell more power, or increase its range, or make it easier to break through shields. It could be anything. The addendums were in general generic, an addition made to a spell could be used with a different ones. Of course, some addendums were custom made for a spell, but most were interchangeable.

Harry found the concept extremely interesting. And from the looks of the things, it had looked pretty simple too, it was only when he had tried to practice that he'd learned fast-hand exactly how difficult it was. He had been practicing for a day now, and had yet to see any results. An incendiary addendum to a Piercing Curse was supposed to give the spell a fire component. Unfortunately, his spell was no different than a normal Percutio.

Harry made another try to cast the Piercing Curse and once again was disappointed to note the lack of tale-tell signs of reddish tinge to the normal pale blue spell.

He sighed, he was hardly going anywhere with this practice of addendums. He got up from his bed. It was time to talk with his captive. He hoped he would be more successful with the Death Eater than he was with his attempts in spell casting.

O

"So, Lestrange, what have you decided," Harry asked quietly, as he sat on the edge of the cot that the Death Eater occupied.

Lestrange looked up from the plate of food that he was ferociously gobbling. He wanted to reinforce the facet to the Death Eater that the man could go free, if only he acquiesced to his demands. And if he refused what his condition would be.

Lestange finished eating hurriedly – perhaps afraid that Harry would leave him without food again – before answering, "How do I know, you will let me go if I can get you the cup?"

Harry frowned. He'd been expecting that question and if truth be told he'd the answer prepared. He was rather afraid to go down that path though. After all you can never truly foresee the consequences when you invoke such magic. It was, however, as always with him the only route ahead.

"We'll make an Unbreakable Vow," said Harry softly.

Lestrange's opaque eyes widened in surprise. He probably wasn't expecting Harry to go so far. And Harry understood quite well the reason for Lestrange's shock. When he'd first heard about the Vow while eavesdropping on Snape and Malfoy, he hadn't quite understood the ramifications of making such a Vow. A trip to the Restricted Section courtesy of permission from Slughorn had enabled Harry to find out why Unbreakable Vows weren't in vogue. Harry couldn't quite understand at first why Voldemort didn't demand such Vows from all the Death Eaters. It was only after thorough research into the intricacies of Unbreakable Vow that Harry understood the reason.

While there were many reasons such Vows were rarely uttered, the most important reason that they were never invoked unless for dire circumstances was the fact that they were very ambiguous. You can never predict what the result of a particular Vow would be. The same conditions of the Vow could be different for different people.

A frank discussion with Slughorn allowed Harry to gain further insight. Apparently the intention of the people and their thoughts affected the Vow just as much the words that described the conditions. Voldemort could not simply ask his Death Eater to make a Vow of loyalty for the magic guarding the Vow might kill them even if they hadn't been disloyal. A thought of disloyalty, for instance if the Death Eater were to insult the Dark Lord or cast doubt upon his abilities the magic may take their life if Voldemort believed that such acts were not the sign of a loyal Death Eater.

With such ambiguous circumstances that protected the Vow, Harry was hardly surprised that they weren't used all that much. It also made him aware of the lengths Severus had gone to protect Malfoy. And he could understand very well why Lestrange would be surprised by his choice. But he needed something that would hold them both to their words and there was nothing better than the Unbreakable Vow.

"An Unbreakable Vow, Potter," said Lestrange. "I'm impressed. You do intend to hold your word then."

"Yes," said Harry tersely.

"The conditions then, Potter," demanded the Death Eater.

"You will not attempt to warn anyone about me in any way or form, directly or indirectly. You will get me inside the Lestrange's Vault and recover the Hufflepuff's Cup for me. In turn, after you've done so, I'll no longer hold you captive and will not harm you further," stated Harry. He'd gone through the conditions in his head a lot of times. They were solid, or as solid as they can be.

"And you'll return my wand," said Lestrange.

"I'll think about that condition," said Harry, anxious for Lestrange to accept the offer.

"No, Potter. If you want my assistance then you will return my wand. Or we've no deal, Potter."

"If you can get me the Hufflepuff's Cup, Lestrange, I'll return your wand."

Both of them stared at each other intensely, each willing the other to give ground.

Finally the Death Eater sighed and said, "Alright, Potter that is acceptable."

"Good. We'll make the Vow tomorrow."

Lestrange nodded and with that Harry left the cupboard, with the Death Eater still shackled to his iron manacles. He smiled as he closed the door of the cupboard and reapplied the protections.

Yes, things were falling into place.

Author's Note: Yeah, its been a really long time, since, I updated. But I've been really busy to find time to write fanfics. I'll finish the story though. I have not planned each chapter of the story just to give up half-way through. So, it may not finish by the end of this year, as I had originally planned. But finish it, I will.

Next update, will be for the The Potter Politics. Don't know when that will be.