With a wave of Dumbledore's wand, the floorboards rattled and creaked before flying forwards. Under them was a wooden small box with the Gaunt family signet imprinted on the top in poison-green wax. Dumbledore stared intently.

"This is it?"

"Yes. This is most certainly one of Lord Voldemort's horcruxes," Dumbledore replied slowly.

"What do we do now, Mr. Dumbledore?" Sherlock asked. Dumbledore frowned.

"We destroy it."

"I read that horcruxes must be damaged beyond repair in order to completely destroyed. I also read that they're tough bastards," Sherlock commented. Dumbledore nodded, still staring at the box.

"I know of a spell, but I'd prefer it if we destroyed it somewhere more open. Fiendfyre, even for an accomplished wizard such as myself, is fairly difficult to control," Dumbledore replied. Sherlock raised his eyebrows, but said nothing.

Dumbledore picked the box up, holding it delicately. Very carefully, he opened it. Inside was a sort of signet ring. The mark was a circle in the center of a triangle. A line went down the center of the triangle, splitting the circle and triangle in half. Sherlock faintly remembered seeing the symbol in the storybook he'd bought at the book store.

"Is that the symbol for the deathly hallows?" Sherlock asked, turning to Dumbledore. If anything, he appeared even more shocked than before.

"Indeed it is. And if I'm not mistaken…" he muttered. He held his hand steady and began to fit the ring onto his hand.

"Headmaster," Sherlock urged. He gripped the man's wrist, "Do not forget what this thing is and who created it."

Dumbledore blinked before letting his free hand drop. He looked quite troubled. After a few moments of silence, he looked at Sherlock gratefully.

"Thank you Mr. Holmes. You are quite right. I have no doubt Tom placed all sorts of curses in the case of someone finding his ring. No. It is best we destroy it," Dumbledore said quietly.

The men exited the house and began walking towards the forest nearby. They entered the dark woods and walked for what Sherlock estimated to be about half a mile. They stopped abruptly in a small clearing. Dumbledore took a deep breath and then suddenly stabbed his wand into the earth. It sunk to about half the wand's length as if the ground was liquid. The earth rumbled and Sherlock gave a shout of alarm.

The trees, rocks and foliage began sliding backwards, away from Dumbledore. Earth shifted and swirled away, leaving a massive circle of empty land, about fifty feet in diameter. Dumbledore was breathing heavily.

"It has been quite some time since I've used a spell that draining," he said tiredly. Sherlock looked around.

"Very impressive, headmaster."

"Thank you. Now, to do what we came here for…" Dumbledore placed the box where his wand just was, then led Sherlock to the very edge of the circle. He whirled his wand above his head, with a look of steel.

Flames began to ignite at the tip of his wand. An unearthly noise came out like all the beasts in the animal kingdom giving out their respective calls. A long tongue of flame whipped around their heads before bursting into the shape of a bird.

"What is that?"

"Fiendfyre. The bird happens to be a phoenix," Dumbledore said through gritted teeth.

"Fascinating."

A melancholy cry was heard before Dumbledore swished his wand downward. Flames splashed around the box that held the horcrux. As soon as the flames burnt through the box, a shrill screech echoed over the roar of the magical fire. A shade appeared over the flaming horcrux. Dumbledore didn't know the face, but Sherlock recognized it all too well.

"Even if I'm burning now, I'll destroy everything you love. Little Harry can't hide from me forever!" cackled the shade.

"Who is that?" Dumbledore asked. Sherlock's countenance darkened greatly.

"Moriarty. The Napoleon of crime and my worst enemy. He does not simply wish to kill me, but to destroy everything that I am and that I stand for," Sherlock replied. Dumbledore looked between the shade and Sherlock.

"I see. Allow me to finish this," Dumbledore said. With a flick of his wand, the flames expanded, swallowing the general area until the shrill screeching died out. With a final grunt, the flames were sucked back into his wand. Dumbledore was openly huffing now.

"Are you alright?" Sherlock asked.

"I will be. Come along, Mr. Holmes. We should return to the castle and discus our next move," Dumbledore said, plucking up the charred remains of the horcrux. A twinkle within the remains caught Sherlock's eye, but he said nothing.

They reached the house they initially came from and floo'd back to the castle. Both stepped out and brushed themselves off.

"Thank you very much, Mr. Holmes. I appreciate your assistance in this matter," Dumbledore said. Sherlock nodded.

"Not at all, professor. I—" Sherlock was cut off by a sudden urgent knocking at Dumbledore's office door.

"Come in," Dumbledore said calmly. Hermione Granger running into the office. Her face was red and she was breathing heavily. Obviously she'd been running

"Professor! It's Harry! He suddenly collapsed and started screaming and I took him to to hospital wing! Madame Pomfrey told me to get you!"

"Of course, dear girl. Come, we will go see Harry together and sort this out," Dumbledore said gravely. Sherlock didn't speak either, but Hermione noticed him.

"Oh… Hello again Mr. Holmes. Yes, let's go," Hermione said. Sherlock nodded in acknowledgment.

They all walked quickly to the hospital wing. They could hear Harry's shouts of pain behind the doors. They opened before any in the group even touched them. Dumbledore's rob whirled behind him.

"Madame Pomfrey, please give me a report," Dumbledore said, standing at the boy's bedside.

"I—I… there's nothing wrong with him! I've ran all my diagnostic charms on him and he seems perfectly fine. He managed to say his scar was hurting before he started shouting again. I don't know what to…" Dumbledore flicked his wand at Harry. A red bolt of energy hit Harry before he slumped. Sherlock looked at him in alarm.

"What did you do?"

"I merely stunned him. Hopefully the pain fades. I have a feeling that it has to do with our recent endeavors, Mr. Holmes," Dumbledore said. Sherlock frowned and nodded.

"Do you think—" but Dumbledore raised a hand.

"We should discuss this matter in private, I think. Present company likely is not the best audience for this kind of conversation," he said.

"Of course, professor," Sherlock said, glancing between Hermione and Madame Pomfrey. After casting a few more silent spells and frowning, Dumbledore left the infirmary with Sherlock right on his heels. They had much to discuss.

A few hours later, Harry awoke to an empty infirmary. A sudden wave of pain overtook him and he groaned. The last thing he remembered, he was studying with Hermione in the library when it felt like his skull was split open by a hammer. He remembered shouting. His throat felt raw. He was screaming, then a few voices were barely heard, then everything went black.

"Well that's just bloody unhelpful," Harry cursed. Madame Pomfrey emerged from her office and made a beeline right for Harry.

"How are you feeling Mr. Potter?" she asked, casting a few spells on him. 'Obviously diagnostics' he thought. He rubbed his scar and looked at her blearily.

"Not great. I would feel better if you happened to get the license plate of the car that hit me," he grumbled.

"Unfortunately not, Mr. Potter. Now, as I don't see anything physically wrong with you, I will release you. However, I'd like you to periodically check back with me and possibly the headmaster," she said.

"Dumbledore?"

"Yes, Mr. Potter. He was the one that stunned you and will likely have a few questions for you. Now, off you pop," she said.

"Before I go, do you have anything for the pain?"

"Of course," she said, bustling over to a shelf with a strange assortment of flasks and bottles. She handed him a grey-blue potion that had the consistency of water, "here you go, Mr. Potter. It's a numbing potion. Try to only sip it when experiencing pain, as it will numb your whole body if you drink to much."

Harry eyed the potion before taking it a sipping it. After a moment, the painful sensations in his head were reduced to a mild buzzing. Irritating, but bearable.

"Thanks," he said. She nodded and shifted her attention elsewhere. Harry took this as his cue to leave. After checking the time, Harry made his way to the Great Hall, where everyone would be eating dinner by now.

By the time he reached the doors, he could hear the excited buzzing of the student body. He opened the doors. They were rather loud and quite a few people turned to look at him. He went red a bit and waved awkwardly. Most regarded him for another moment before turning back to their conversations.

"Oh Harry, I'm so glad you're feeling better!" Hermione said, hugging him when he sat down. Harry smiled.

"Thanks 'Mione. I'm not really sure what happened back there," he said sheepishly. Hermione appeared unsure of what occurred, either.

"I don't know. You seemed to be having some sort of fit. I was able to get you to the hospital wing and get Dumbledore. Actually, your father was there, too," Hermione recounted. Harry's eyebrows went up.

"Sherlock was here?"

"Yeah. But he didn't stay long, though. Both he and Dumbledore came in, Dumbledore stunned you and then casted a few spells, then both left pretty quickly. They looked really worried," Hermione said.

"Wow…"

"I know. They said something about recent endeavors. Do you think Mr. Holmes is helping Dumbledore with something? Maybe a case?" Hermione asked. Harry shook his head and shrugged.

"I don't know. I'll bet it has something to do with Voldemort, though," Harry said.

"What do you mean?"

"Well, this holiday break, after all that went on with Quirrell, Sherlock figured that Voldemort was somehow keeping himself alive. When we came back, Sherlock hadn't made a breakthrough. I'll bet he did recently, and brought Dumbledore in on it," Harry said.

"That makes sense. Do you have any clue as to what could have been keeping Voldemort alive?" Hermione asked.

"No. Next time I see Sherlock, we're going to need to talk," Harry said.

"Well, since you seem to be doing better, you can check my Defense Against the Dark Arts essay after dinner," Hermione said cheerily. Harry groaned.

"Why? You never have any problems with essays," Harry grumbled.

"Well, you're the best in our grade in defense and one can never have too much help," Hermione said. Harry rolled his eyes.

"That's debatable."

Final exams were soon upon the first years. Many seemed to be overly stressed, like Hermione, or carefree, like Harry. This dynamic made the test days somewhat tense for the pair.

"What do you mean you don't care how you did? Don't you realize that if we fail these exams, we don't graduate to second year?" Hermione exclaimed as the pair walked out of their Herbology exam. Truth be told, it was fairly easy for Harry. He stuck to what he knew and everything worked from there.

"Well, considering the fact that even Crabbe and Goyle are going to at least pass, then I've nothing to worry about. Besides, I'm the top of the class, remember?" Harry said, smirking. Hermione scowled

"Don't remind me. Even though Malfoy is tied in second with me, he still likes to rub it in that I'm not the best. Honestly I don't know how you tolerate him," Hermione said. Harry rolled his eyes and smiled. They'd had this conversation many times over the year.

"Well, we're going to be in school together for the next six years. Might as well make them pleasant, right?" Harry said. Hermione still looked mad.

"I still don't see how you can tolerate him," she said.

"I've got two psychopaths who want me dead. I don't really have time for a school bully," Harry said, smirking. Hermione laughed.