Harry Potter and the Power of the Past
Harry Potter and the Power of the Past
Disclaimer: All JKR's, not mine.
Summary: This is a complete AU- Harry Potter is a 21-year-old wizard, who's on top of the world. He's rich, in love, and loved by all, but his life is turned upside down as a spiral of events leads to the ultimate battle between good and evil. Can Harry lead the fight for the light, but yet manage to keep his life together?
A/N: Thanks for the reviews everybody. Oh, and review again!
S/N: I got a message from a reader asking me how to say Lilyre's and Despereaux's name, respectively. For Lilyre, its "Lil" sounding like Lily without the y, and then the Lyre sounds like "ear": Lil ear. Despereaux, on the other hand, is even easier to say—the Desper part sounds like "Desperate" with out the ate, and the Reaux sounds like "row" (as in row, row, row your boat). So put them together and its "Desper Row".
S/N 2: I got this chapter out quicker than I expected, so here you go! Be warned, though, there is a chapter coming soon devoted completely to Harry's relationships with his friends and family, based around Christmas, but the search for the Horcruxes and the twists in the plots will make it more than worth it. Oh, and I'm sorry, but I think this chapter's name is my most clever ever—you all should know what it mimics, right?
Chapter 28: The Tiger, the Spy, and the Cave
Early in the morning the next day, Harry wrapped his green cloak around him as he walked out of the front door of his home; the cold autumn air, for it was still a week until winter began, sent shivers down his spine. Snow hugged the ground, creating a wonderful blanket of powder that glistened in the morning sunlight. A slight chill rushed over him as he walked towards the gate, making his teeth chatter and his cheeks rosy. He began to rub his hands up and down his arms, trying to warm himself up. Reaching the gates, he walked out onto the snow covered dirt path, and with a countenance filled with resolve, he apparated out with the intention of having one of Voldemort's Horcruxes when he got back to his home.
Harry arrived on a large chunk of rock that protruded out of a towering cliff that stood behind him; the North Sea was looming below him. The chunk of rock looked as though it had broken away from the cliff face at some point in the past, whittled down by rain and erosion over the years. Harry moved to the very edge of the rock where a series of jagged crevices made footholds leading down to boulders that were semi-submerged in seawater, all of them closer to the cliff. It was a terrible descent that took a while as Harry was moving at half-pace, the lower rocks being slippery with seawater. Upon reaching the boulder closest to the cliff face, Harry saw a fissure in the cliff in which dark water swirled.
After studying the fissure for a second, Harry slid from the boulder and landed in the sea, beginning to swim immediately; his wand was in his mouth, held in place between his teeth. The water was cold and icy, much too cold, and his robes were starting to weigh him down as small waves crashed into him. Shivering, he turned into his tiger form with a small pop, hoping that his tiger's fur would be able to keep him warmer. It barely made a difference, but he stayed in the form as he moved deeper into the cliff. The fissure turned into a passageway that curved to the left and extended far into the cliff; the walls were three feet apart, and covered in a green slime.
He neared the end of the passageway and turned back into his human form, rising out of the water with his wand still in his mouth. He emerged into a small cave; he was shivering uncontrollably and his clothes were soaked. He took his wand from his mouth, gently touched his robes, and at once his clothes were as warm and dry as if they had been hanging in front of a crackling fire. He stood in the middle of the cave, his wand held high as he turned slowly on the spot, examining the walls and ceiling. "Yes," He muttered. "This is the place."
He moved towards the wall of the cave, caressing it as he muttered in an ancient tongue. Then he ran his other hand over the cave wall as well, feeling, sensing the magic that was around it. With his hand still on the rocky wall, he walked right around the cave, occasionally pausing over a particular spot, before stopping back at the place he had began. Stepping back, he pointed his wand at the rock and for a moment, an arched outline appeared there, blazing a blinding white color. The outline disappeared just as quickly as it appeared, and Harry stood quietly, staring at it as if something extremely interesting was written on it. "So crude." He mumbled two minutes later, almost disappointedly, as if Voldemort had fallen short of the standards Harry had expected.
He reached into the pocket of his cloak and took out a sharp, silver dagger. Dragging the dagger across his palm, he cut open a small gash in his hand, flicking his crimson blood onto the cave rock. The blazing white outline reappeared in the wall, but this time it didn't fade away, and with a great lurch, part of the wall moved, allowing a passageway that was barely big enough for a human into the cave. The cave was large, and housed a big lake inside: its dark water was as smooth as glass.
The lake was so vast that he could not make out the distant banks, and the ceiling was so high that it too was out of sight. In what seemed to be the center of the lake, a greenish light showed, reflecting off of the still water. The darkness that surrounded him seemed denser that normal, as the light from his wand didn't extend as far as it should have. With his wand tip alit, he followed the small path that ran against the wall around the lake, his footsteps echoing across the otherwise silent cave. It stopped after a hundred or so feet; Harry, for the rest time, saw the small inlet, barely bigger than a large kitchen table, directly in the center of the lake.
He waved his hands in the air, wondering what he would have to do and where he would have to go next. His hand closed in midair upon something invisible to the eye as he inched closer and closer to the water. Using his other hand, he raised his wand and tapped his clenched fist with its point; immediately, a copper green chain appeared, extending form the depths of the water into Harry's hand. Again he tapped his wand tip, this time on the chain itself, and it began to coil around on the ground, pulling up something from its blackened depths.
He gasped as he watched a small, wooden and green glowing boat break the surface, and then float, with barely a ripple, toward the place on the bank where he stood. The boat hit the bank with a gentle bump, giving Harry a chance to study it. It was barely big enough for one person, and had magic on it that prevented more than one person, one trained wizard to be on it. "He wants one wizard, and only one wizard to go over there…why?" Harry thought out loud, looking from the boat to the island and back again. "Accio!" He said, swishing his wand towards the center of the lake, where he presumed the Horcrux laid.
With a noise reminiscent of an explosion, something large and pale jumped out of the water some thirty feet away. With a crashing splash, it disappeared before Harry got a good chance to see what it was, but he did have a strong feeling about what it was exactly. Not wanting to risk it, he thought of a way for him to bring in help, knowing that two people would be needed for what it was he would have to do; after all, if that wasn't the case, then Voldemort wouldn't have gone to great lengths to prevent more than one wizard from getting onto the boat. Taking out his wand, he whipped it around, concentrating on a happy memory, and a silver stag erupted from its tip, glowing with a light akin to the full moon. The stag ran a few feet, then disappeared, leaving the cave as if it was never there.
Harry, after taking one last look around the cave, exited, going back out the way he came: he would wait for his help outside, and only use them if he absolutely needed it. He sat down on a rock a few feet away from the entrance, and looked out over the coastline, watching the waves of the ocean crash down. He loved watching the ocean, it relaxed him, calmed him, and he did it all the time at his own home. Nymphadora and him would sit on the beach, or even on the grass above the cliffs that ran perpendicular to his house, and just watch the waves crash for hours, sometimes even into the wee hours of the night.
He used this time to go over what he had learned already: Voldemort's protections were very difficult, and would only get more difficult from there on out. Finding the boat had not been easy, and the only reason why he did find it, in his mind, had been because he had studied Tom Riddle's Diary for so long, going over every charm, spell, and detail that was in and apart of it. Magic always left traces, sometimes very distinctive ones, and he knew Tom Riddle's magical work, his idiosyncrasies, his quirks better than anyone in the world, which made finding the boat a little easier. He just hoped he would have the skills and know-how to get through the rest of the cave in one piece.
With a pop, the Order of the Phoenix spy Kylie appeared on a boulder a few feet above Harry. Harry smiled at the wizard, knowing how early it was. "Thanks for coming, I hope you weren't busy or asleep or something."
"No, Queenie and I have been up for an hour; Tracey came by this morning, crying hysterically." Kylie answered, pulling his hood down and showing his face.
"Crying about what?" Harry questioned, as Kylie hopped from boulder to boulder until he reached Harry. Even though Harry loved Nymphadora with all his heart and soul, Tracey was an important part of his past and he still cared for her--even if she didn't want to see him--and was worried that something had happened to her.
Kylie gave a grim smile, his demeanor serious. "She saw Death Eaters outside of her father's house." That one basic fact, when in conjuncture with the pureblooded name connected to the family as Tracey's mother's maiden name was a pureblood one, could only mean two things: one of them being that the Death Eaters were going to attack, the other being the exact opposite.
"Really?" Harry replied, tilting his head slightly at Kylie curiously.
Nodding, Kylie replied, "Yeah…I think we're both thinking the same thing."
"Its probably time that we set up a trap." Harry mumbled, knowing that the leak in the Order would have to be fixed as soon as possible.
"Probably." Kylie nodded in agreement. "What are we doing here, anyway?" Kylie inquired, noticing his surroundings: it wasn't everyday that he was asked to come to a boulder near the ocean early in the morning.
"We are procuring an item of great importance to Voldemort that needs to be destroyed." Harry answered simply, not giving away much information. Then, smiling brightly, he said, "We're going to have to get wet." Putting his wand in his mouth, he dove into the chilly water, swimming into the crevice; Kylie followed right behind him.
They arrived in the cave alcove, rising out of the water wet and cold. They both dried themselves off with magic, and Harry went over to the wall again, using his knife to cut a small wound into his hand and splashing it over the rock. The archway glowed brightly and appeared as if out of nowhere, and Harry stepped into the cave, Kylie immediately behind him. "Have you ever seen Voldemort's snake, Nagini I think her name is, during the Death Eater meetings?" Harry questioned, quietly, as he walked along the path, slowly, making sure he didn't fall into the dark water. His wand was lit and held high into the air, but even so, it was not giving off much light, the darkness around them seemingly overpowering the spell.
"Yeah," Kylie answered, nodding his head. "She's always around his shoulders if she isn't slithering around, looking for something to eat."
Harry bit his lip, and gave a slight tilt of his head; his demeanor turned serious instantly just as Kylie's had minutes before. "There will be a time, not now, but perhaps soon, that I'm going to ask you to kill her." Kylie cocked an eyebrow at the request but said nothing, instead just replying with a simple and efficient yes. He knew Harry wouldn't have asked him to do it unless it was of the utmost importance. They reached the glowing boat soon after that, and still Kylie hadn't the slightest clue of what they were doing. "You feel that?" Harry questioned, closing his eyes and taking a deep breath.
"Feel what?" Kylie asked, confusedly, his eyes darting around the cave. The smell of seawater, decay, and magic that was in the air entered his nostrils, and he crinkled his nose a bit.
"Try changing into your animagus form." Harry replied, knowing the man wouldn't be able to.
Kylie did as he was told, and nothing happened; it was as if he wasn't an animagus, as if that part of him, his bird form, had been ripped away from him. Admittedly, he felt…incomplete, a revelation that surprised even him. "What the? How is this happening?"
"Honestly? I have no idea." Harry shrugged, ignorantly. "I think the spell starts once you enter the cave; it slowly drains your ability to turn into an animal away from you. In other words, you'd be able to turn into an animal right when you enter, but sooner or later you'll turn back into a human, and I imagine it would be at the most inopportune time—probably when you're flying over the water, therefore making you drown in it or be killed by those Inferi."
Kylie peaked into the black water, and for the first time saw the marble white bodies that littered the water, floating just below the surface. "Those are a lot of corpses." Kylie remarked, disgusted by the sight of so many dead bodies.
"This is Voldemort, did you expect anything less?" Harry chided, as he studied the boat more closely, checking the spells that were on it. "Listen, you won't be able to come with me, but if something happens, check my workshop, okay? There are a few things there that will allow the Order to continue on without a hitch, I've made sure of that."
Kylie cocked an eyebrow, a thought crossing his mind. "Harry, how dangerous is this exactly? You're acting like you could die."
"I could." Harry answered, promptly and evenly as though they were talking about the weather.
"What? Let me do this then." Kylie responded forcefully, fearing for his friend's life.
Harry shook his head, smiling broadly. "No, you're here just as a precaution." He took a step into the boat, and coiled the chain onto the floor. "Well, off I go."
The boat pushed off the bank, and began making its way towards the island; it moved without Harry needing to move it, as though an invisible rope was pulling it onward toward the center of the lake. There was no sound other than the silken rustle of the boat cleaving the water. He could not pretend now that he was not curious. The great black lake, teeming with the dead as he moved forward into the great unknown, it was somewhat exhilarating. He neared the island, and saw the source of the greenish light, which looked much brighter when viewed close to. The boat had come to a halt, bumping gently into the island's banks; the island itself was barely bigger than Harry's workroom, and was made of a smooth rock. It was an expanse of flat dark stone on which nothing but the source of the greenish light stood.
The light was coming from a stone basin of some kind that was rather like a Pensieve on top of a pedestal. Harry approached the basin, and looked down into it, his wand held tightly in his hand. The basin was full of an emerald liquid that was emitting that phosphorescent glow. "What is it?" He heard Kylie's voice call out from the far banks.
"I am not sure," Harry yelled back, his eyes still looking at the liquid. "But it is something more worrisome than blood and bodies." Tentatively, Harry put his hand into the basin, attempting to touch the potion; he met an invisible barrier that prevented him coming within an inch of it, however. No matter how hard he pushed, his fingers encountered nothing but what seemed to be solid and inflexible air. He raised his wand and made complicated movements over the surface of the potion, murmuring every so often. Nothing happened.
He took a closer look, and peered so closely into the basin that he could see his face reflected. He was sure that the Horcrux was in there, but he couldn't find a way to reach it. The potion could not be penetrated by hand, vanished, parted, scooped up, or siphoned away. Likewise, it could not be transfigured, charmed, or otherwise made to change its nature. "It's supposed to be drunk." Harry called out, his voice carrying to Kylie.
"What?" Kylie screamed, mortified; that could, and knowing Voldemort probably would, kill Harry. "No!"
Harry nodded thoughtfully, trying to think of another solution but none came. "Yes, I think so: only by drinking it can I empty the basin and see what lies in its depths."
"It could kill you!" Kylie growled, hating the fact that Harry had to put himself in danger to presumably save the wizarding world from Voldemort. "Come back, let me do it at least."
"No, I'm the one that's going to be doing this, but I will need help. Zeali!" He said out loud, and after a minute of waiting, his loyal house-elf appeared on the small island next to him with a pop. "Ah, I was hoping he would overlook house elf magic." Harry admitted, having wondered what would happen if Zeali did make it through the wards; if another wizard or witch of age had been on the island with him, he assumed that the island would submerge itself in the water, killing the two. Since Zeali was an elf, Voldemort's precautions and enchantments did not apply to the loyal companion. "How foolish of him." Harry chirped, referencing Voldemort's arrogance. Most wizards overlooked the magic of what they deemed lesser creatures, not realizing that their magic is just the same as wizards' and witches'.
Harry then flicked his wand and caught the crystal goblet that he had conjured out of nowhere. "Zeali," Harry said, quietly. The tiny elf looked up at him with his tennis-ball like brown eyes, his ears flapping in nervousness; the cave scared Zeali with its darkness--both literal darkness and figurative darkness. "If anything should happen to me, if I collapse or something of the like, I need you to make sure I keep drinking, even if you have to tip the potion into my protesting mouth. Do you understand?" He questioned, knowing that the potion must act in a way that would prevent him from taking the Horcrux; he thought that it might paralyze him, cause him to forget what he was there for, or even create so much pain that it served as a distraction.
"No, master, Zeali will do it for you." Zeali protested, not wanting his good and dear master to be hurt. "Zeali will do it." He said again with even more courage than before.
"Do you understand, Zeali?" Harry asked again, this time more harshly. Zeali shook his head unwillingly.
"Please, master, please, let Zeali do it! Let Zeali do this for his master, Harry Potter, please!" Zeali cried as Harry plunged the cup into the green liquid; the goblet sank into the surface as nothing else that Harry tried had. The wizard looked down at the house-elf, shaking his head slightly, smiling. Then he shifted his eyes over to Kylie, who was standing across the lake, watching from his perch along the cave wall; they both shared a look, wishing each other luck in the worst-case scenario.
Throwing his head back, Harry downed the liquid, and immediately gripped the basin, trying to hold himself up as the horrid potion rushed into his stomach. He dunked the cup into the pool with his eyes closed, blindly taking another swig. Then, as he tried to scoop up another cupful, he felt it; his mind exploded with images, with thoughts, with memories, and his body began to tremble as the worst pictures flooded his mind. With his vision blurry, Harry again dunked the cup into the pool, slower than he did before, filled it up and brought it to his lips; spreading them apart, Harry drank the liquid and dropped the cup to the ground. He staggered forward, needing to grip the pool with both hands to keep his balance. Kylie instinctively moved towards Harry, but stopped, realizing there was nothing he could do; it was all up to Zeali and Harry, and knowing Zeali, Harry was in good hands.
With great trepidation, Zeali bent down and grabbed the cup, and then pushed up onto his tippy toes and filled the cup up once more. "Drink, master Harry." Zeali whispered, tears forming in his tennis ball-like eyes. Harry slit open his mouth, and Zeali passed the liquid down his throat, loyally fulfilling the duty Harry asked him to accomplish.
His eyes were closed, and his breathing was heavy. His face was twitching as though he was deeply asleep, but dreaming a horrible dream. "Make it stop…make it stop." Again, Zeali dunked the goblet into the potion, filled it up, and put in front of Harry's mouth. "I don't want…don't make me." Harry muttered in a crackling voice.
"Master Harry, I'm sorry!" Zeali cried as he tipped the contents of the goblet into Harry's open mouth. Harry screamed, the noise echoing all around the vast chamber and across the dead black water.
Again and again, Zeali refilled the goblet and forced it down Harry's throat; Harry had yelled, screamed, and cried, but Zeali loyally fulfilled his duty. "Water." Harry croaked out, his eyelids flickering open.
"Water," nodded Zeali from bended knee. "Yes." The elf said, seizing the goblet, and flinging himself over to the edge of the rock and plunging it into the lake, filling it to the brim with icy water. Holding the goblet with his two tiny hands, he began to carefully walk his way over to Harry, but out of nowhere, a slimy white hand had gripped his ankle. The creature to whom the hand belonged to was pulling the small elf backward, slowly across the rock and to the lake.
Zeali threw the water on Harry's face, freeing his hands, and using them to blast the Inferi off of him. "You will not harm my master!" As the first Inferi fell into the now churning lake with a splash, many more Inferi were already climbing onto the rock, their bony hands clawing at its surface. Zeali quickly and desperately tried to blast the Inferi back away from Harry, but he was becoming overcome soon enough. Outnumbered, and too young to know how to fend off Inferi, Zeali felt arms enclose around him from behind. His feet left the ground as they lifted him up and started to carry him back to the water; his body wriggling desperately to get free.
Then, out of the darkness, fire erupted: orange and yellow, a ring of fire surrounded the rock, and a thin rope of fire wound its way back to Kylie's wand. The Inferi that was holding Zeali stumbled and faltered, daring not to pass the fire to get to the water. A bolt of fire from Harry's wand washed over the Inferi's back and he immediately dropped Zeali; Harry growled as he slowly rose to his feet. He was as pale as the Inferi that surrounded him.
Harry scooped up the locket from the bottom of the stone basin, stowing it inside his robes. "Come, Zeali." He said, tiredly; he looked as if he was about to pass out. The house-elf came swiftly to him, and Harry immediately reached down and grabbed Zeali's shoulder. Just a little more, Harry, you can make it, he heard a voice in his head say, though he didn't know if it was his own voice or someone else's. He knew he was dying, and that he needed to get to the safety that Kylie offered. "Apparate us over to Kylie, Zeali." He whispered to his companion, as he flirted with the darkness and unconsciousness that was about to overtake him.
Zeali nodded, and with what felt to be a pull at his naval, Harry and his elf appeared on the other bank; Kylie was off to the side, seemingly concentrating on the ring of fire that was holding the Inferi at bay. "Harry!" Kylie gasped, as Harry collapsed onto his shoulder.
"Get me out of this cave…water. I'm so weak." Harry whispered, his eyes closed and face pale. Kylie pulled Harry's arm around his shoulders, and guided him back around the lake, bearing most of his weight. "The protection was…after all…well-designed. One alone could not have done it…" Harry rasped out, faintly. He was mumbling something indistinguishable to Kylie, as if he was having a separate conversation with some unseen force or person.
"Save your energy, Harry." Kylie replied, fearing how much Harry was dragging his feet.
"The doorway will have sealed again." Kylie nodded in understanding, and ran his free hand against the wall as they walked, hoping to get it scratched to the point that blood shows. They reached the archway finally, and Kylie ran his now bloodied hand upon the stone; having received its tribute of blood, the archway reopened instantly. Kylie dragged Harry through the doorway, and placed him on the outer cave ground, right next to the ocean and the entrance. "In…my…workshop….gold potion….I need it." Harry whispered, his eyes closed and his face pale.
Kylie nodded, and looking down at Zeali, he said, "Stay here with him. I'll be back straight away." Then, diving into the ocean, he swam to the boulders and apparated away to Harry's house.
Quickly, he said the password that would grant him entrance to the grounds, and as soon as the metal gates opened just enough to slide past them, he did. He sprinted, fast and breathlessly, up the path and to the house, entering into the building with reckless abandon. He hopped up the stairs two at a time, crossing over the landing and galloping down the hall till he reached the library. He dashed to the bookshelf that hid Harry's workshop, and scrolled his eyes over the illusive parseltongue tome that would grant him access to the hidden chamber; it was charmed to move around the shelf, trading places with various books and tomes throughout the day. Finding it after what he thought was an eternity but was more like a minute, he pulled on the green and brown spine, and with a creek, the bookshelf began to spread apart, revealing Harry's workshop.
Luckily enough, for both Kylie's and Harry's sake, there were two vials of the golden potion on top of the desk, hanging loosely in a small wooden holder. In his hurry, he knocked one of the vials onto the floor as he reached for it; upon hitting the floor, it cracked and with a wisp of smoke vanished into thin air, leaving its glass container in pieces on the floor. Being more careful this time, he reached for the last vial and secured it into his hand before placing it safely in his pocket; he then took off, out of the room, and back to where Harry was.
With an abnormally loud crack, Kylie arrived back on the boulders that led to the cave. He dove into the freezing water once again, and with a semi-perfect breaststroke, he made his way through the tunnel and into the outer cave where Harry was. Arriving and with Zeali bent down next to Harry, crying above his master, Kylie heaved himself out of the water; he was soaking wet and his teeth were chattering slightly. He dropped next to his friend and pulled out the golden potion, uncorking the stopper with one hand. Then he gently opened up Harry's mouth and tilted the potion into it, watching with baited breath as Harry instinctively swallowed it.
The effects took three minutes to show themselves, but once they did, Harry's color returned to almost its full tone. His fever had died down, and he stopped sweating. The most notable change, however, was the fact that he had stopped mumbling in his low and unenergetic voice, the images he was seeing in his head apparently disappearing. His eyes slowly opened as he coughed out, his hand wiping the perspiration off of his brow. "Are you okay?" Kylie asked, anxiously, wondering if the unknown potion had worked.
"Hopefully." Harry replied, groggily. His head was still throbbing, and the lump in his throat that he had had since his lips first touched Voldemort's potion had yet to subside, clogging his wind pipe just enough that it was painful, but he could still breath. He reached down and felt his pocket, making sure that the locket he had picked up from the basin was still there and didn't fall out during his retreat from the island. "We should go." Harry said, sitting up. Kylie nodded, and together they dove into the water, swimming out of the cave and to the boulders that sat in the ocean; Zeali had apparated away by Harry's orders, meanwhile.
Once out of the cave and after Kylie had disapparated home, Harry sat on a flat rock that loomed over the ocean, taking out the locket and giving it a good look. It was heavy, large, and golden, with an emerald-less, serpentine S on its front. It looked pretty mundane to him, nothing like a piece of history should have looked like in his mind. Confusedly, he turned it over, trying to pry it open with his hands, wondering what kind of secrets it held. With a click, the front door popped open, revealing an aged and yellowed piece of parchment that was folded up so it would fit inside. Harry took it out, placed it on his lap, and studied the compartment: nothing. It was empty and golden, no magical properties or telltale signs of it being a Horcrux to speak of. Cocking an eyebrow, and with a knot tightening in his stomach, he reached down and unfolded the paper, reading what it had to say:
"To the Dark Lord
I know I will be dead long before you read this
but I want you to know that it was I who discovered your secret.
I have stolen the real Horcrux and intend to destroy it as soon as I can.
I face death in the hope that when you meet your match
you will be mortal once more.
R.A.B"
"I don't have time for this," Harry growled, anger rising inside of him. He wasted his time, his precious time, searching for a Horcrux that was already gone. Who knew where it could be, it could have been anywhere: heck, it could have already been destroyed. He couldn't know for certain, however, until he found it, until he had the real Horcrux in his hand and in his possession. In order to do that, though, one question needed answering, the only question that would lead him to where it was: "Who in Merlin's name is R.A.B?" He asked himself, out loud.
The rest of the day and night, Harry spent resting and overcoming the effects Voldemort's potion had on him. His head was still throbbing, the world spinning in his eyes. When Nymphadora came home from work that day, Harry couldn't help but see four of her, even though he knew there was only one: after all, Nymphadora was too special in his eyes to have any duplicates. He had a large dinner, hoping to settle his stomach, and then went immediately to bed, knowing that enough sleep was his only chance to completely beat the potion; he was lucky enough to not be dead, he wasn't taking any chances and would rather take it safe than sorry. As he passed into dreamland, however, he couldn't help but think about the work he still had to complete, and knew that he would have to get on that the next morning.
A day passed, which Harry spent searching for someone with the initials of R.A.B, but all he could find were "Rupert 'Axebringer' Brookstanton" and "Rosalind Antigone Bungs", but neither made much sense as they were in no way connected to Voldemort. He was still a little shaken up from Voldemort's potion that he had to drink two days before, his insides feeling as if they weighed a thousand pounds. Sighing, Harry dropped into a cushiony chair in the sitting room of Grimmauld Place, the fire blazing in the fireplace next to him. Sirius sat across from him, reading a wizarding magazine and drinking a chilled butterbeer. "Something the matter?" Sirius questioned, not looking up from his reading. Harry had filled him in on his search for the Horcruxes, though didn't go over every detail of what they were: all Sirius knew was that in order for Voldemort to be defeated, truly defeated, various powerful items needed to be destroyed, a mission only Harry could finish.
"Lots." Harry replied, somewhat lazily. "You wouldn't happen to know someone named R.A.B, would you?" Harry asked, rhetorically, not expecting fate to throw him a helping hand. He closed his eyes, leaned his head back, and prepared himself to take a nap, hoping that the rest would give his mind new ideas and perspectives.
"Yeah, my brother." Sirius replied, distractedly. "I haven't heard that name in awhile." He gave out a hollow laugh, remembering when he and his brother hated each other during their Hogwarts days. He was glad that their relationship was back where it should have always been, albeit with Regulus being dead.
Harry's head shot up instantly, his eyes wide and his mouth slightly open. R.A.B: Regulus Arcturus Black, he thought to himself, and Regulus was a Death Eater. It makes perfect sense! How did I not think of it? "Would your brother have called himself R.A.B?" Harry asked, sharply, wondering if it could be that easy, that simple. The Horcrux, after all, might just fall into his lap. He mentally kicked himself, forgetting that Regulus' middle name was Arcturus; he had stared at the Black family tree for hours, just running over the many different names that were on it, and surely he had noticed Regulus' full name at least once.
"Yes, yes, he did when he turned seventeen, wanting a name for himself. He hoped to become a big hotshot around the Death Eater's, and he thought by stripping himself of the Black name it would show them that he was a wizard in his own right; one that didn't need his family's fame." Sirius replied, this time with a little more interest, having understood the tone of Harry's voice as serious.
Immediately, as if someone had lit a fire under his chair, Harry jumped up and rushed to Regulus' portrait, knocking on the empty frame once he reached it. Seconds later, Regulus strolled in, yawning. "You called?" Regulus inquired, looking down at Harry.
"How did you die? You didn't die by Voldemort's hands, did you? No, you betrayed him, didn't you?" Harry inquired, quickly and somewhat forcefully. With a simple hint, a simple nudge in the right direction, Harry had pieced together the general story of what had happened, one that had Regulus being a true hero.
"No," Regulus said, watching as Sirius strolled up next to Harry. His eyes shifted about, searching a place to go, away from all the questioning. "That's a hysterical idea; you've got quite the imagination, Harry." Regulus laughed, though they both could tell it wasn't real.
"Tell us the truth, Regulus." Sirius ordered, staring at his brother with his gray eyes. He didn't know what was going on, but by the way Harry had raced to the portrait and Regulus' fake laughter, he knew something important was up.
Regulus sighed, rubbed his forehead, and began to speak; his voice just a whisper. "We were on a raid one night, and I was supposed to kill this muggle, but for some reason I couldn't. He was innocent, guilty of nothing except being unmagical, so I left him alive, but someone had seen. That someone must have told Voldemort, and on his orders, Bellatrix tortured me until I could barely think straight anymore. They let me live, however, and on the brink of death, I apparated home and acted quickly. I had Kreacher take me to the cave I knew the Dark Lord's Horcrux was, for Kreacher himself had been taking to the cave personally a year or two before, gave him a fake locket for him to switch, and drank the potion down myself. Once Kreacher switched the lockets, he left on my own personal orders, and I was dragged down into a lake, where I died."
"Do you know if Kreacher destroyed the Horcrux or not?" Harry asked, hoping that would save him some time. As it was, he had too much to do, too much to research and look for, scratching off one Horcrux from the list would help him a great deal.
"I tried to destroy it before he left with it," Regulus answered, looking slightly worried. Did he die for nothing? Did Kreacher disobey him, keep the locket for himself, and leave to the Malfoys, making all his hard work and sacrifice null and void? No, he thought to himself, I was good to Kreacher; he loved me. "I don't know what happened to it, but I know Kreacher wouldn't have left the house with it, that's for sure. Maybe, just maybe, he failed destroying it and left the House of Black out of shame."
"If that's the case," Sirius said, slowly, hoping he understood Kreacher and Regulus' bond to each other. They, believe it or not, loved one another, as Kreacher was treated well by Regulus, and Kreacher made sure to do for and give Regulus whatever he wanted. "Then he would have left it here, knowing that it was rightfully the Blacks'."
"He did." Harry whispered, more to himself than the other two; he was staring off into space, lost in the thought that had stricken him. Then, turning and running towards the fireplace, he called out, "I'll be right back. I can't believe I was so stupid! I completely forgot something." He threw down a handful of floo powder, and disappeared in a torrent of green flames, leaving Regulus and Sirius behind in confusion.
Harry ran through the halls of his home, knowing just where the Horcrux of Voldemort's was. It wasn't that he had forgotten that he had taken a locket from Grimmauld Place a few months ago, it's that he never imagined that it would actually amount to something…ever. He thought it was just a treasure look-alike that, although beautiful, wasn't all that important or dated. After all, Grimmauld Place was a haven for Slytherin apparel, who would have thought the house would actually have the real thing? Skidding into the library, he searched for the parseltongue book, and upon finding it, he pulled on the spine, allowing the bookshelf to open up to reveal his hidden chamber that housed all of his darkest, most dangerous books and devices. Sure enough, sitting on one of his desks was the gold locket, glistening with a beauty that was not present before he understood it to be a Horcrux, as if that it had just found out that it was important somehow.
Harry gave out a sigh of relief, knowing that it was without a doubt one of Voldemort's Horcruxes. He gingerly took it in his hands, gazing at it as if it were brand new, completely unseen and untested before then. He flipped it over, trying to pry it open, hoping to see what was inside. After a few minutes with nothing to show for his work, Harry decided to take out his wand and see if he could open it using magic. "Alohomora," He said, knowing nothing would happen. "Claudo Revelio", he recited next, knowing whatever defenses the locket had would show up with the spell. Just as he expected, as if he had the knowledge already in his head, he instantly knew that it was being defended by the Dictum charm: a charm that safeguarded an object or door with a spoken password. There was something about it, however, that was different than it would be with a normal Dictum charm—it was twisted, corrupted someway, as if the password was in a different language than English.
That's when it hit him; it rushed into his mind like a speeding train. Staring him in the eyes, he looked down at the jeweled serpentine S on the top of the locket; he knew how he could open Slytherin's locket. He had seen it before, felt it before, and had even performed the same charm before: on his ring box that housed Tonks' engagement ring. "Parseltongue." He whispered to himself, a small, confident smile gracing his handsome face. "Open," He hissed, and the golden doors of the locket swung wide with a little click.
There, behind both of the glass windows within blinked a living eye, dark and handsome as Tom Riddle's eyes had been before he turned them scarlet and slit-pupiled. "Harry Potter, we meet at last!" A voice hissed from out of the Horcrux. "Free me, help me out, and we shall overthrow my older self and rule together, as equals." Harry looked down, a cold feeling, as if it was a hand, gripping his heart. Immediately, Harry closed the locket back up, blocking the eye from the world and preventing any further effects the Horcrux would have from reaching him.
Harry sighed, falling down into his wooden stool, trying to catch his breath. It was like the locket, the soul within the locket, had read his mind, his heart, and figured out who he was. It took a few moments for the chill to wash away, and his breath to level out. While he had come into contact with Tom Riddle's diary on a daily basis, writing in it every so often when he needed to find out something about Voldemort, he had never felt the effects he had just overcome him; a fact that both confused and creeped Harry out. He prodded the locket with his wand; quizzically checking it out before he stood back up, ready to destroy it once and for all. The curse that he would use quickly jumped to the forefront of his mind, as other spells did in other situations; he just hoped this one worked.
"Shame I have to destroy a priceless artifact like this." Harry muttered, knowing that, with what he was about to do, a piece of history was going to be erased from the world. No matter how bad Salazar Slytherin was, or how evil and bigoted his views were, he was one of the greatest wizards ever, right up there with Godric Gryffindor, Merlin, and, yes, Albus Dumbledore. Plus, being that he was so close to being sorted into Slytherin himself, with the hat saying it would be either Ravenclaw or Slytherin, he felt a sort of connection with the locket, as if his mind thought it rightfully belonged to him. Knowing that what he was about to do was the right thing, he gripped his wand, threw the locket into the air, and said, "Mordens!"
A burst of burning orange flames shot out from his wand and into the air; it was round like a ball, and flew as if someone had thrown it. As it neared the locket, the flames thinned out, creating a snake-like head of fire. Then, opening up its fiery jaws, the snake made out of flames engulfed the heavy, golden locket, burning it from all sides. The golden doors of the locket popped open from the heat and pressure, the dark and handsome eye wide with fear: then there was a scream. So loud and blood curdling was it that Harry cringed, its tones sending shivers up his spine. Even still, a fascinated Harry watched what was transpiring, knowing that in a few seconds the part of Voldemort that was inside would be destroyed. Sure enough, the eye turned red, and then exploded outwards, leaving the golden locket half destroyed as it fell to the ground, still alit with flames. Harry swished his wand, muttering the counter spell to the Fiendfyre, extinguishing the smoldering pieces of metal that laid on the floor.
Bending down, Harry tentatively reached out for the locket, noticing that the door was completely destroyed and the insides were burned and singed a brown color. He held his hand over it, feeling if it was hot, and when he saw that it wasn't, he picked it up and placed it onto the wooden desk, right next to the Peverell ring. "Four more," He said to himself, giving the ring and the locket one last look before turning and leaving the chamber, closing the bookshelf behind him, locking the room.
A/N:Here are the spells of that appear in this chapter (I gave the Fiendfyre spell a real, tangible effect and an incantation so I hope you like it)-
Mordens: The Fiendfyre Curse that creates intense flames that display pseudo awareness. Mordu means "Fiend" in French, and "Ardens" means burning in Latin. The first part of Mordu, Mor, and the last part of Ardens, dens, creates Mordens.
Claudo Revelio: The Ward Revealing spell that gives the user knowledge of the protections around an object. Claudo is Latin for confine, and Revelio is Latin meaning to reveal/pluck away/unveil.
A/N: Potions-
Gold Potion- This potion is too important to the general story to give it away now, so I'm not going to name it or tell you its effects. I'll give you the etymology of it the next time it appears.