Hi ! I feel like I might have falsely advertised this fic with the first chapter. There are no romance in it. It is a short fic : 3 chapter in total, this one being the longer as the next (and last) one a little bit over one thousand words. I will post the last chapter tomorrow. I always make sure I finish writing a story before i start to publish it, as I personnally hate when they are abandonned halfway through.
I am french, and I have no beta, so every mistake is my own only.
Thanks to everyone who followed and favorited my story ! I'm so happy that people liked it !
Goblins, Dementors and Voldemort
"You mean to tell me that you can bound and control Dementors?" Harry asked with disbelief and anger. "And you can destroy them too?" He added, now fury shining in his eyes.
"Yes" smirked the Goblin.
What the fuck with those creatures? They had the means to erase the monsters from the surface of the Earth, and did nothing while they were roaming the country, sucking souls as they pleased? Worse even, the demons were multiplying!
But the little being in front of him didn't care, he realized. He didn't care because he was protected, living in undergrounds caves warded against them. What happened to beings on the surface didn't matter to him. It might even rejoice him that so many humans were falling, thinning the enemy numbers.
Oh, Goblins weren't angels, Harry knew that. But he never imagined that they would be so callous with life itself, so warped in their self-importance and hatred for wizard kind. They were also completely uninterested about all the other sentient beings that were dying: centaurs, elves, vampires, giants, even the acromentulas had a soul that could and was being harvested. Harry knew that his mental list was far from complete, so many beings he didn't know or were dismissed by his kind without a second thought.
He tried to breath, slow down his heart beat. It wouldn't do to draw his wand in the heart of Gringotts. Dying right here, right now served no purpose. Bill, at his side, was trembling too. Hermione's mouth was agape. She was frozen. He was dreading for the moment the shock would subside and her eyes start to flash.
"Thank you for the information. Please contact us when you find another one, we'd like to witness its cleansing. Be well." Harry jerked his head, his tone barely acceptable. He took his friends and left the room as fast as he could.
They needed them. They couldn't afford to start a war with the Goblin right now. The thought didn't abide his anger, but it helped keep his head cool enough to function. Bill shook his head, and started to walk on his own. Harry guided Hermione along the labyrinth of underground corridors that span their web under Gringotts. His magic must have been guiding him, because they found their way without a hitch.
Half an hour later, they were climbing down the steps at the bank's front doors. Harry quickly put a silencing ward around them before Hermione exploded and screamed in the street. Her hair was crackling with magic, moved by an invisible hurricane. It was terrifying and fascinating at the same time.
"We can't stay in the open" Bill said suddenly. "Come on, we need to go home" he urged the young adults.
Hermione was still screaming, unable to listen to anything. Out of ideas, Harry slapped her and side-along apparated her to Shell Cottage while Bill took care of himself.
The young woman run to the living room and fell on the floor, sobbing. The shock of the casual cruelty of yet another specie was too much for her. They had the means to make a difference, and did nothing. Absolutely nothing. Yes, the treaties forbid them to take part in the running of the wizarding world, but they could have easily teached the human curse breaker that worked at the bank their way of horcrux removal, who, at their turn, could have devised a human method of controlling the Dementors. No treaty would have been breached, and so many lives saved.
Because the Goblin's way of cleansing an horcrux was very simple: they bound a Dementor and forced him to suck the soul out of the object. Then they destroyed the Dementor, erasing its very existence, erasing all the souls it ever fed on, forever. Well, they didn't know if the souls it sucked kept existing in the demon, but destroying a Dementor anihilated everything about it. No remnant of its existence stayed in the world, not even residual magic. There was, as far as they were able to tell, no more proof that it ever was once the ritual had been done.
Slytherin locket had been cleansed like that. Harry kept in his moleskin pouch since the Goblins gave it back to him after the cleansing. He, at the time, had no idea how it was done. But the locket had no more trace of Dark magic, so it had been enough for him at the time. Bill had assured him that the Goblin valued secrecy above all else, and that their method worked. Voldemort wasn't, by far, the first man to think a horcrux would make him invincible.
The fact that he thought of making multiple ones was much rarer, but not unheard. So, Harry had been satisfied. When did anyone ever gave him the whole truth anyway when it really mattered? Not Dumbledore for sure. Well, Hermione, Bill and Fleur did their best in that regard. At least, the Goblin's had the decency to tell him there was a secret they wouldn't share.
Unfortunately, since then, they had performed the Initiation. It had been amazing, right until the point of the magic joining.
It turned out that beyond a simple merging of their magic, the Initiation was also an act upon the souls. And Harry didn't carry only one soul. There was more.
The Goblins already knew THE secret, the only thing Dumbledore instructed him to keep secret above all else. So, what more damage could be done if they knew about that? Persuading Hermione to ask them if they knew anything about it had been a hassle. Three days later, he chose to go to Gringotts anyway. He told her that she could come too, but he would not change his mind. It was his life, his decision.
Bill accompanied them.
And now, at the aftermath of this visit, Harry felt empty and overstuffed with so many... it couldn't be described. They had no solution in sight, no option beside killing him. The prophecy kept turning in his head, over and over, chipping away every remnant of the tentative hope of a future he had built during his stay at the cottage. His bones chilled at the certitude he would have to set himself to be killed by Voldemort, if they wanted any chance at ending this one-sided war.
Hearing that the Goblins had the means to trap, bound and destroy Dementors was the poisonous icing on a core rotten cake, bombed at their faces when they were already down to their knees. They were the reason the country had registered his coldest winter in history, the effects were even felt the other side of the channel. The French were indigent, but Voldemort had agents there who hindered any attempt at official aid or call of war from them. The muggle hospitals were filled with comatose patients, unresponsive, living off respiratory machines with no explanation whatsoever on why. There was an unnatural spike in the suicide rate all over the isle, and none of the experts could understand why. Some methods were unexpected too: people clawed their eyes, immolated themselves, stabbed their kids and loved ones, strangled their pets, or even simply stopped breathing in the middle of the street. Some died from dehydration and lack of food, with their pantries filled with perfectly eatable goods.
The world was astonished. The ICW did nothing, there wasn't enough proof of a breach of the Statute of Secrecy. Stupid bureaucrats and politicians.
The Dementors had free reign, and reign they did. Six month ago, they were a hundred and fifty. Now? Ten time that at the minimum. Possibly up to five thousand without stretching it too far. Hell on earth for everyone, but the ones who belonged there.
He understood Hermione's distress. But he couldn't feel it. He hold on to his rage, it was the only thing he could hold on to keep going. Without it, he could as well kill himself. Voldemort was winning, he was. The country was his, pockets of resistance thinning to nothing as days went by. Europe was corrupted, and soon he would have it too.
And as long as Harry lived, there was no hope of it ending.
But even if he died, what where the chances they had? Dementors weren't the only problem. Death Eaters wouldn't stop their deeds, they were the power now. They run the government, unlike last time. Rookwood, Malfoy, Nott, Yaxley, Jugson, there were enough intelligent men to take the mantel if their Master died.
They needed a plan, a plan to take out the most enemies in one go when Harry sacrificed himself for the cause.
Because his decision had been made. He would die. He would die to protect his friends and all the innocent victims of this twisted war.
They needed a plan. A plan that wouldn't probably survive the first three second of its implementation, but he couldn't charge stupidly like he did so many times. He wasn't the only one at stake this time. It wasn't just his life in the balance.
"Hermione. Hermione, I need you." He said simply, shaking her shoulder. She would have time to cry later, when everything had been done, or in the eternity of death. She looked at him, her eyes red from sadness.
"We need a plan." He stated. The fire was back, drying the last tear. She took his hand and stood up. He smiled.
Hell could come, she would burn it and use its ashes to seed a new world.
Maybe they had no chance. But they would as sure make one.
/
Annihilating the Dementors.
Ending Voldemort.
Neutralizing the marked Death Eaters.
Neutralizing the active participants of the regime.
Doing the same for the ones in the continent? Because what good of saving the UK if the ideology just started again somewhere else?
They were reading. Harry thought it was a waste of time at the beginning, and time was of the essence. People were dying right now, in mass. British muggle population was down by about 10%, either dead or unresponsive. Urgency wasn't even describing it.
But they were reading. The more Harry read, the more he understood why Hermione insisted on it. They were reading on dictature, and the aftermath when they fell. How to make them fall, and how to build back up after. They were reading on mass effect, crowd magic, the powers of beliefs. They were reading on soul magic, the little they found about it, wildly extrapolating. Harry, for the first time, went to his parents vault and found their journals. All the research Lily made before she died was there. James too wasn't a slouch, and he had a lot of interesting takes on magic and its uses. Apparently, being locked in a house for eighteen months had made them think, and think hard to find a way out of their predicament.
There were other journals. The Potters were researchers, inventors, healers, warriors, artists, each generation their own. But they were always passionate, and it showed. Journals were apparently a tradition, to pass on knowledge to the future generations. Reading them was a learning experience, and Harry felt he had grown so much in such little time. Hermione, of course, devoured them. Fleur and Bill seemed captivated too.
A plan was starting to form. Of course, it was too slow for their taste, but anything was too slow in their situation. If they wanted a chance to live on day, they needed to think now. Except for Harry, of course, but he didn't tell them that.
He would die. Once he had accepted that fact, life, hope, love, could become again.
/
Today was the day. They knew where the last horcruxes were: in Hogwarts, and slithering at the feet of his master. A diadem, and a living snake.
And, of course, Harry. When the Goblins found Hufflepuff goblet in the Lestrange Vault, Harry witnessed its cleaning. The first, and only, non Goblin to ever see one. He swore an oath to never reveal the Goblin ritual to any living soul. He had managed to negotiate it by pointing out the fact that he would die very soon anyway, and he wanted to know how it would be done. The Dementors sucked the soul out of their vessel, but couldn't choose to stop once the process started, so they would suck Tom's piece of soul along Harry's in this ritual.
But what he didn't tell them, was that he didn't plan on using the ritual, not at all. He just observed it, in the hope of being able to recreate it to trap the monsters roaming the isle. Then, he gave the memory to a portrait, who wasn't a living soul. To whom the portrait passed the information wasn't covered in the oath.
And it worked. It took three months of intense research, with Hermione, Fleur, Bill, George, Fred, Luna and two curse breakers Bill vouched for, Ashan and Anya. Beacons to attract the foul creatures, bounds to trap them, and portkeys to keep them all in one place were devised, and spread all over the country. They couldn't destroy them yet, but at least if they could only pollute a designated area, it would be better. And if they starved to death, who would complain on their behalf?
They managed to kidnap a Death Eater. He didn't know anything of importance, but his mark told them much. Anya was a parselmouth and she found it fascinating, even if a bit nauseating too. Harry watched her use her skills to speak to the mark, unravel its secrets. Fleur and him helped her to enchant it to link all of its bearer to the piece of soul in his scar. Fleur's instinctual grasp on soul magic had been the tie breaker, with their combined use of parselmagic. One of Harry's ancestor journal, a parselmouth himself, had been a treasure of information that Anya helped him grasp and use. She also had been very fascinated by what she learned there.
Well, now, when Harry's hitchhiker was destroyed, Voldemort and every one of his followers would lose their magic, syphoned with the piece of soul attached to his forehead. That was the hope. At worst, their left forearm would explode, rendering them easier to pick up, and Voldemort would lose his connection to them. At best, they would have a bunch of squibs to round up for trial and a weaker Voldemort to kill.
Harry was walking through the Forbidden Forest with his companions at his side. They knew Hogsmeade was crawling with Death Eaters, so they didn't even attempt to infiltrate by this side. No, they just chose to take their chance with the deadly wild life in the Forest. Witch seemed to make itself scarce. Maybe the Dementors had fiested a thousand to many times on them. They went through what seemed to be an abandoned acromantulas nest. It was sad, really, to see so many empty webs, hanging like ghostly reminder that they weren't longer the predators in their own home. Suddenly, they heard a piercing cry. Something was shaking in one of the cocoons hanging from the canopy. Bill and Ashan approached carefully.
"It's a Dementor. I think its dying." Bill commented, disgust and awe on his face.
"You're right." Ashan added, absolutely fascinated. "There is a coating here, look. It's eating at it, look, like an acid or something."
"Can we focus on our mission?" Hermione cut them, with a strangled voice. "We can always find the spiders and ask them what it is. But we may only have one chance to..."
She didn't need to finish her sentence. They regrouped and went forward.
Infiltrating the castle had been a kid's game. To easy. They were tense. Harry felt his every muscles, ready to spring at the slightest warning.
To be fair, it was 3 a.m., there weren't usually a lot of people roaming the corridors at that time.
The kitchen was almost empty. Three elves were busying around an oak barrel on the far corner. Harry called softly "Dobby" before remembering. Hermione put her hand on his shoulder as they slumped, understanding.
Dobby was buried in the back garden at the Shell Cottage. He died saving their lives. Another victim of this fucking war.
"Can we talk to an elf, please?" Fleur finally asked, as Harry was battling his tears.
"What can Amber do for you?" An elderly elf, judging by the white hair that sprouted from her nose, answered.
"We are in need. We are searching for an object, a diadem, hidden in the castle. It is filled with Dark magic and is very dangerous. It is a danger to all Hogwarts inhabitant, and we want to destroy it." Fleur stated.
They had decided that they would ask the elves. Well, Hermione had the idea and they agreed. The elves knew the castle better than anyone, and even if they had to spill the secret in order to get their help, it was worth the risk. Nobody ever thought about asking elves, and if someone thought they were worth investigating, maybe they had the way to get the information another anyway? Voldemort didn't value them, so he may have very well spilled his secret to them without even realizing it.
"There are a lot of cursed object in Hogwarts, miss." The elf said politely.
"This one should be there for a long time, between twenty to fifty years." Fleur continued, patiently.
"If it belongs to someone, you should ask them." Amber stated with a frown.
"No, it's owner left it there without permission. He never intended to live in the castle." Fleur added.
"We put abandoned items in the Come and Go Room, miss."
"Holly shit!" Harry exclaimed. A long-forgotten memory resurfaced.
Frantic pacing in front of the Dancing Trolls tapestry. Running in the junk cathedral, to hide his potion book. The tiara displayed on that bust over the old furniture.
"I know where it is." He said, suddenly filled with adrenaline. "I know where it is."
"I wish we had the Marauder's Map." Hermione whispered to him after he led them to a surprisingly undusted secret passage.
"You are the one who made me send it to Neville." Harry retorted, annoyed.
"I know, but I didn't think we'd need to infiltrate Hogwarts. When Luna told us what they were doing there... It was the best idea then."
"I know." Harry sighed. He too wished to have the map. Walking around the castle without it was a huge risk.
They froze when they heard a noise in front of them.
"Harry? Hermione? Fred? George?" Someone kept whispering. "It's Seamus. I come in peace." The voice said.
"Seamus?" Hermione squeaked.
Bill lighted his wand. In front of them, up the narrow stairs stood Seamus, the Map in his hand. Harry gasped. He had tremors, like the ones Hermione had after Bellatrix. His body showed signs of bleeding, and half of his hair were missing.
"What the hell happened to you?" He asked.
"The Carrows are lovely fellows" His old class mate grinned shakily. "Come on, follow me, before they come to meet you." He added with a gesture.
Harry started to walk, but Bill stopped him.
"Wait, security question." He told, dead serious.
Harry doubted that he was an imposter, but it would be too stupid to fall for such a stupid trick if they could help it. As he was wracking his brain to find a question, Hermione's voice rose:
"What did you say the first time you kissed me?"
Betrayal flashed in Seamus eyes for a brief moment. Then his shoulder sagged.
"I think I am gay. And I only kissed you one time." He said, almost whispering.
"It's him." Hermione confirmed. Harry looked at her, once again surprised. For all the times she nagged him to tell her things, she sure knew how to keep secrets. These past months, he had learned about a whole new side of his best friend.
He must say, he liked her better with all the layers than before. As a side effect, it also gave him the opportunity to be a bit different, to show other sides of himself. The Initiation gifts had been more than he ever imagined, he mused, as he followed his companions. Two turns after they exited the passage, Seamus put his palm on a piece of wall and a door appeared.
"Where are you leading us?" Hermione asked, when they all entered the little room behind it, that led to a slide.
"The D.A. Room, of course" Seamus answered, as if it was obvious; "Except that it has changed a bit since. You'll see."
Harry and Hermione looked at each other, unsure. They needed that room for something else, but they couldn't really talk about it in the open like that, even if they were quite sure that passage didn't exist before. At least, it never had been on the Map, but they knew about two other places that weren't on the Map either.
They all rode the slide, who led to a pool filled with little spongy balls. Harry found it very funny. It was probably a muggle born who thought about this. Magic was wicked that way, they took a downward slide from the fourth floor to end up in the seventh.
They were met with applause and excited shouts when they climbed out of the pool.
"Harry! Hermione!" Harry could hear. "Fred! George!"
"Are you here to help us?" Others said.
"It's so nice to see you!"
"WE'LL KICK THEM OUT! FUCK THE CARROWS" someone screamed.
"WE ARE NOT HERE FOR YOUR TEACHERS!" Bill shouted louder, before the crowd could start to chant. The students froze, his sentence reverberating in the air.
Harry looked around. They were around twenty, all with visible signs of injury. Hammocks hanged in a corner, and piles of dirty dishes littered another. He recognised most of them, as they had been in the D.A., but others didn't ring a bell.
"Are you living here?" Hermione asked curiously.
"Hermione" warned Fleur.
"Sorry" She apologized. They needed to complete their mission first and foremost.
"We need to find something that will help us defeat Tom." Harry said to the crowd. It tore his heart to have to dismiss them. There was so much hope in their eyes. "We need to find it now. I am really sorry, but you'll have to evacuate the place until we find it." Their shocked faces were almost too much for him to handle.
"In the meantime, fellas, we, George and I, will help you to set pranks all around the castle to wreak havoc come morning!" One of the twins exclaimed.
"I can assure you that we, Gred and Forge, have a wonderful plan to keep your lovely Carrows occupied for a long time!" His brother smiled with mischief.
They had a plan indeed. Their bottomless bags held countless items created especially for any Death Eaters who would dare invade the school grounds. Werewolves, vampires, giants, acromantulas, snakes, trolls and other creatures weren't forgotten either.
Because there was a chance, as slim as it was, that Voldemort would pick up on the destruction of the diadem in Hogwarts. And if he did, maybe he would try to get to Harry there. The possibility of them being made and captured in the castle wasn't null either, so they made contingency plans. The twins had given half of their defence items to the elves, with strict instruction on where to put them, and how to activate them.
The other half had just been assigned to the students gathered in the room apparently.
Harry nodded to the red head clones. Their idea was brilliant, it would occupy the teenagers and giving them cover.
"Everybody out!" Ashen's voice boomed over the excited crowd.
It took a few minutes for the twins, Seamus, Hannah and Neville to organise something and leave the seventh floor corridor empty. As soon as the last of them turned around the corridor, Harry paced in front of the empty patch of wall. Fast enough, a new door appeared. The Company, now reduced to Hermione, Fleur, Bill, Ashan, Anya and himself, entered.
The junk cathedral, as Harry dubbed it, was exactly as he remembered. Stacks of discarded stuff, higher than two of them up each other, were spread all over the place in various shapes, making a wide labyrinth in a very high ceiling room. At regular interval, white bland heavy stony columns lighted the room with a soft glow. Trying to find the right path, he strode forward, searching for the marks he remembered: here was that weird chair with blue stuffing pushing through a tear in the purple cushion fabric, there was the miniature gold catapult perched on a marble elephant...
Finally, he felt it before he saw it. He went around a corner, past a bundle of old cloth smelling like overcooked vomit hanging on a gigantic axe.
The diadem was there, laying quietly over the ugly bust of a haughty witch. Its precious gems sparkled, but Harry could only see the Dark, calling for him. He only heard the faint whispers compelling him to reunite with it, to finally start the journey to be complete again. His scar burst open, red blood and black slimy oily like substance dripping in his eye. Fleur withhold his arm before he could touch the cursed headwear. Ashen threw a bag over it and put it in a warded box. The pull on Harry lessen, but didn't completely stopped. His scar started to throb. He winced at the sudden stab of icy fire tearing at his head. Fleur helped him to keep his balance as they headed to the Chamber of Secrets.
After the last encounter with the Goblins, they had decided to destroy the last horcruxes by themselves. Harry didn't think it would be wise for him to go there again, unless he wanted to partake in the ritual. Because, of course, as he had hired them to destroy the horcruxes, they technically had to do it with him too.
So now, they were walking silently towards the second floor bathroom, seeking entry to the Chamber to collect basilisk venom. Harry was under his cloak, but the others were disillusioned, including Hermione. When Bill had teached them the spell, she of course had been the first one to master it. Harry had also disillusioned himself, more for fun, the cloak making it redundant. In the meantime, one was never too prudent.
/
"Hi Myrtle" Harry greeted with a smile when she appeared out of one of the stalls in the bathroom. She squeaked. He cancelled the invisibility charm upon him, and smiled again.
"How are you?" He asked gently. They needed her cooperation. It wouldn't do if she warned the Death Eaters in the castle, not until they completed their mission anyway.
"You came for me?" She shrilled. Someone behind him put a hasty silencing spell on the bathroom entrance.
"I'm afraid I don't have too much time to catch up" he apologised. "I have something to recover from the Chamber. But I wanted to say hi, and ask how you are doing."
"OH! Thank you! Nobody ever asks that! It is awful. I see people crying all the time. There are student that are tortured in the dungeons. The sixth and seven years have to learn the Cruciatus and use it on them!" She cried with a weird glint in her eyes. It took him a minute to understand it was glee.
He barely kept his disgust to himself. She kept babbling, detailing all that was wrong in the school, according to her. To be honest, she had a point. It was horrible. Her perverse thinly concealed joy about it made him want to slap her. But vociferating at her wouldn't change anything, and they didn't have the time to go and skin the fuckers alive, as much as he wanted to. He could feel Hermione shaking behind him, and someone shuffling somewhere on his right. They were all invisible. Thus, if Harry got caught, they all could finish the mission.
"You are right" he finally cut her. "I am very sorry to hear that. I will help as soon as I can." He added, trying to look concerned and understanding, not burning with fury and murderous intent. So much he couldn't do, so many people dying, being tortured for pleasure as he was collecting horcruxes. Why Dumbledore had thought he could do it by himself? Even with Hermione considerable abilities, and Ron quite useless participation, they had only been teenagers! Since they talked to Bill and Fleur, they had at least a semblance of a plan!
He wanted to rip someone throat, burn Voldemort and all his followers, hear their screams of agony and watch them beg for the mercy they never showed. He reigned his emotions tightly, wasting his energy like that would amount to nothing. He had to stay focus on the objective: ending this once for all, definitively. He had the means to do it, all he had to do was to die to protect them.
And he would. Once the horcruxes were gone, he would find his way to Voldemort and fulfil that damned prophecy. Then he would be mortal and his brothers in arms could finish him off.
"Now, I need to access the Chambers. I need to retrieve something in it. Could you be an angel and not tell anyone that I was there, ever? It would be our secret, just you and me." He tried to charm her. He had no idea if it would work. Charming had never been his forte, and even with the coaching of Fleur and Bill, he felt like an idiot. Hopefully, it did the trick.
"You have my word!" She swore, her face shining with pride. "I never told any secret, not even those of that blond boy last year!"
Harry couldn't help his wince. Those secrets had led to Dumbledore's death and the country's fast descent in hell.
"Thank you very much. You're a good friend!" He said with a smile that he hoped didn't look too forced.
"Can you bring me something back?" She asked, bouncing in the air. Harry felt the hair in the back of his head stand.
"I'll do my best? What would you like?" He answered cautiously. They had a good start, no point in ruining it now.
"Something to frame. The décor is rather bland here!" She huffed.
"Sure, I'll see what I can find." He assured her with a slight bow of his head. Then he turned around, facing the right sink.
He hissed in parseltongue, and said his goodbye to the gleeful ghost, giving plenty of time to his companion to slide in the dark opening.
One more uncertainty in their plan covered, for now at least. Moaning Myrtle was known for her very volatile personality after all, and he wasn't sure if she would keep her word. Hopefully, the twins would distract anyone long enough for them to do what was needed if necessary.
So much for being the safest place on earth, if people could so easily sneak in, Harry thought cynically when he landed in the damp tunnel. The Dark or the Light side, whatever hold it couldn't keep the opposition from roaming their halls.
The smell was worse than the last time he walked there. Or was he so panicked with Ginny's imminent death and that he hadn't notice?
He led them through the underground maze, now seeing the countless branches they crossed while walking. Hermione marked every intersection diligently. He approved. Hopefully, the way was mostly ahead, always taking the biggest tunnel. The curse breakers stopped when they saw the old shedded skin that was perfectly preserved. Harry shrugged at them.
"The same exact state as last time. Come on, the chamber isn't far. We should be at the cave in any moment now. I don't how much work we'll have to do to make a path. I was twelve, and it was a tight fit."
The cave in was impressive. The curse breakers didn't lose any time to strengthen the roof and sides with their strongest spells.
"It's a wonder the tunnel didn't completely collapse." Ashan commented.
Some rubbles were used to make a column at the centre and the rest vanished.
Soon, they were in front of the Chamber's door.
"You want to open it?" Harry asked to Anya.
"Hell yeah" she smirked. "Open" she hissed.
Harry breathed with care. He anticipated the putrid smell of a cadaver, not the simple one of a stuffy moisty room. A lone rat scurried away when they stepped in.
The basilisk was laying there, exactly as Harry left it as far as he could tell. The only difference was the small puddle of dried blood at the foot of his massive head.
"When you said it was big, I thought about three meters long, not twelve." Ashan whistled. He donned his dragon hide gloves and approached the beast.
"Be careful, one brush with venom is enough to die." Fleur warned.
Not that they already knew that. Harry put on his own gloves.
"Maybe I should be the one handling it." He argued, again. "I'm probably immune." He added. It was a well repeated argument.
Hermione looked at him with narrow eyes. She wasn't pleased that he systematically volunteered when there was a deadly risk. And she wasn't more pleased by the fact that he always found a reasonable explanation why he should, and that most of the time he was right.
They each gave him a Goblin forged silver blade. He took a fang out of the basilisk's half open mouth and coated them with venom.
"We should check if there isn't another room or treasure hidden there." Anya suggested. It was also a recurring discussion between them. Did they just destroy the horcrux and run out or stay to see if they could find something more?
"We take care of the diadem first." Bill ordered.
"The basilisk came out of the statue's mouth." Harry offered, telling Anya how Tom opened it. "You can start there, I don't think we need everyone to destroy the horcrux."
Ashan and Anya climbed into the statue.
Harry put the Ravenclaw's relic on the floor, and tried to hit it with the dagger. His hand ripped at the last minute and he almost cut his hand. A black misty smoke rose from it and started to take form. Before it could make any discernible shape, Fleur threw her own dagger at it. It screeched inhumanly and the smoke vanished.
Harry looked at his comrades. His ears were ringing, but he felt relieved. One more down. He smiled at them, his first sincere smile that day.
Then he collapsed on the floor, trashing wildly, small clouds of dust whirling around him. His throat opened but only silent screams escaped his mouth.
/
/
I hope you enjoyed it ! Don't hesitate to review.
Eli