After a brief lift from Fawkes to return to the second-floor bathroom, Harry scanned the castle and was relieved to find Dumbledore's towering soul already present in McGonagall's office. He led Ginny down the corridors, casually absorbing the Sword of Gryffindor back into his soul. Ginny squeaked a bit at that, but he awkwardly ignored her reaction and sniffling sobs as they made their way towards the crowded office.
"-understand your concern, but please trust me when I reassure you, Molly, that if it can be done then Harry will bring her back. I cannot explain to you why, but I can confidently say that even I would not be better equipped to defeat the Basilisk and return."
"Albus-"
Harry opened the door without knocking. He was already tired of this conversation, and he hadn't even had it yet.
The office fell into stunned silence for a brief moment.
"Ginny!"
A short, soft woman with bright red hair and a tall balding man that looked a lot like Ron ran towards them and pulled Ginny into a crushing hug. Dumbledore stood by the fireplace where he had been speaking to the pair, and McGonagall was seated behind her desk wearing a look of shock.
"You saved her! You saved her! How… no matter. Thank you, thank you so much!"
Harry found himself pulled involuntarily into a hug by the woman, who he assumed was Ginny's mother. He wasn't sure about being hugged by strangers, but she was clearly emotional, so he played along until she released him. The man next to her let go of Ginny and offered his hand.
"Arthur Weasley. Thank you, truly, for going after Ginny and bringing her back to us."
Harry took his offered hand, feeling much more awkward than he had at the woman's emotional outburst and hugs.
"Harry, and you're welcome. I would have done it for anyone."
Even as the words left his mouth, Harry realized that was kind of a rude thing to say. Luckily, Mr. Weasley just chuckled.
"That doesn't change what you did for Ginny, so we are in your debt."
Dumbledore smiled at Harry as McGonagall recovered from his appearance. "Everything went better than expected then?" The headmaster said.
"Better in some ways, worse in others. Ginny was possessed by the spirit of a sixteen-year-old Voldemort, by means of this artifact." He tossed the ruined diary to Albus.
Dumbledore's eyes widened in concern, and Harry knew that the headmaster saw more than he did when he looked at the diary. The ancient wizard knew what could allow a fragmented soul to exist without a body.
"Ginny was possessed? What… how…" Molly stammered.
"I've been writing in it all year," Ginny sobbed into her shoulder, "and he's been writing back."
Dammit Ginny. You didn't have to admit to that.
While Mr. Weasley admonished Ginny for not telling anyone about a clearly magical artifact, Harry looked towards Dumbledore.
"I also found this in the Sorting Hat."
Harry called forth the Blade of the Castle. He was too tired to worry about discretion at this point. Plus, Ginny had already seen the sword, and apparently had no filter.
The headmaster's eyes widened further. "Ah, I'm sure that also raises several questions that I will answer in due time. With the appearance of the sword, I assume that the Basilisk is no more?"
"Yes, the beast in the deep will threaten the castle no longer."
"Excellent. Truly excellent news."
The Weasleys and McGonagall looked confused at the exchange.
"Minerva, if you would please escort Miss Weasley and her parents to the hospital wing, she has been through a terrible ordeal. There will of course be no punishment. Lord Voldemort's magic cannot be resisted by most any wizard, I certainly would not expect it of a first year. Bed rest and perhaps some hot chocolate are definitely in order. You'll find that Madam Pomfrey is still awake." The headmaster directed his next statement to Harry, "She is administering the mandrake draught and restoring the petrified victims as we speak."
Hermione. He needed to be there when she woke up.
"I'm sure that Harry is also in a hurry to get to the hospital wing, but I have a feeling that we have several things to discuss first. Minerva, may we borrow your office for the moment?"
"Of course, Albus. I will see Mr Potter in the hospital wing shortly."
The Weasleys and McGonagall filed out, leaving Harry along with the headmaster. Harry returned the sword to his soul.
"Albus. Given our recent discussions, I will do my best to be patient during this chat, but I do need to know. Just how many fragments of divinity are floating around out there, or at least how many are you aware of?"
The headmaster sighed and seemed to age before Harry's eyes. "I personally know of four others, not including the Immortal Fire that I currently possess. Although, he does choose his own masters." Dumbledore gestured to Fawkes, who perched regally on the mantle.
Harry briefly considered asking how a fragment of divinity became sapient but decided that it wasn't worth the time.
"The Eye of Fjolnir, that which sees the truth of all things, is possibly the least powerful of the fragments that I have personally identified and is currently in possession of a good friend of mine."
Huh. Of course, Luna was right. Not yet but soon, indeed.
"The remaining artifacts are part of the fragments gifted to the Founders of Hogwarts, aspects of Creation just as the Hallows are aspects of Death. Ravenclaw's Diadem, the Crown of Madness that both enhances and breaks the mind of its masters. Hufflepuff's Cup, the Holy Grail that can heal all injuries and maladies of the body and soul. Slytherin's Locket, the Unbroken Chain that protects its master from domination while bolstering the ambition and strength of will of both its master and their allies. And, of course, Gryffindor's Sword, the Blade of the Castle, which cannot be turned aside and breaks all chains."
Harry pinched the bridge of his nose. "And how many of these fragments do we know the location of?"
"The Diadem has been lost since Ravenclaw's time, and I cannot say for certain if it has ever been found. The Cup has been passed down through Helga's line, although it disappeared somewhere between forty and fifty years ago. The locket, unfortunately, belonged to Voldemort's mother as part of their inheritance from Slytherin, and she sold it to a pawn shop in Knockturn Alley before Voldemort was born. After graduating from Hogwarts, Tom Riddle went to work at the very same pawn shop."
Harry groaned and flopped into a chair. "So, Voldemort definitely has the Resurrection Stone, probably has Slytherin's Locket, possibly has the Cup, and could potentially have the Diadem?"
"That is… not an inaccurate statement."
Harry sighed. "I'm too tired to plan right now, Albus, but I think that it goes without saying that we need to track these things down if they aren't already in Voldemort's possession. Not so that you or I can master them, although I don't think that we should dismiss it out of hand, but because Voldemort is definitely after them if he doesn't already have them."
"I have been searching for them ever since I first learned that Voldemort went to Borgin and Burkes. His hunt for the fragments seemed to be the only explanation for his actions. Locating fragments of divinity is made more difficult by the fact that most wizards do not understand what it is they hold. The Resurrection Stone and the Unbroken Chain passed through the Gaunt family for many generations without a master. To your father, the Shroud of Death was just a cloak that allowed him to play pranks and explore the castle at night."
Dumbledore sat down at McGonagall's desk across from him.
"It is only because of your unique and instinctual understanding of Magic that you are able to bond with the fragments so deeply and so quickly. It is only through many long years of study and life that I am able to bond with two fragments as you have. Voldemort contains elements of both approaches; he was able to perform extensive and unprecedented intentional wandless magic in his youth, while also studying and working obsessively to become as powerful as he is."
"I see. That's… good? We'll have to compare notes more later. For now, what was the diary? How can a soul be fractured, and how can it act directly without a body?"
Dumbledore seemed to age even further. "I never intended to tell you about this sort of magic. I trust you with it, but I still feel the need to warn you to never, under any circumstances, perform the process that I will describe."
"Sure Albus, if it's that bad then I suppose that I can go without. But only because you asked so nicely."
"Through a ritual and the cold-blooded destruction of an innocent soul, it is possible for a wizard with the proper awareness to rip their own soul in two. The fragment can be bound to an object, becoming a Horcrux. Doing so allows the original soul to cling to this plane in the event of their body's demise. I suspected but did not know for certain if Voldemort had done this or not. His survival following the destruction of his body could have been attributed to the Resurrection Stone. But now, seeing this, I am certain. Voldemort has split his soul at least once and may have done so again.
Harry dropped his head back and closed his eyes.
"Fantastic. More speed bumps on our road to a Voldemort free tomorrow. We'll have to plan our hunt for those too, Albus, but not tonight."
Dumbledore chuckled. "Indeed, I believe that you have someone who may be waiting for you."
Harry was about to answer when the door slammed open to reveal the blond man that Harry had seen in the hall with Dumbledore the night before. Behind him, much to Harry's surprise, walked Dobby.
"So, you've come back. The governors suspended you, but you still saw fit to return to Hogwarts."
"Well, you see, Lucius…"
While Dumbledore proceeded to very politely verbally eviscerate whoever this Lucius was, Harry was busy looking at Dobby. The elf seemed to be pointing at the diary, then Lucius, then hitting himself, but that wasn't what Harry was looking at. He could now feel magic attached to the elf that was definitely absent the last time that he had seen Dobby.
He probed at the little creature with his magic, brushing his power over the connection that he could now feel between Dobby and the blond man. The elf in question froze as Harry poked at the magical binding, the chain that tied Dobby to Lucius in body and soul. He felt the Blade of the Castle stir in his soul, aching to rip and tear at the magical enslavement until there was nothing but broken shackles. Harry remembered Dumbledore's comment about the sword breaking all chains.
Why not?
Despite Dumbledore's admonishments about the necessity of restraint, Harry remained partially unconvinced. He saw wisdom in the headmaster's words, but he also wanted to be a hero. He wanted to make the world a better place. And he felt justified in his belief that in order to make a good omelet, one had to break a few (sometimes Malfoy shaped) eggs.
He just had to make sure that they weren't important eggs. For that, he decided that he had a new policy. The 'what would Hermione do?' policy.
Hermione would not have dominated the minister and Lucius in the entrance hall. But he was confident that she wouldn't complain about him freeing Dobby.
He touched the sword within him and grabbed Dobby's chains in the fist of his will, burning them away while Lucius remained none the wiser. Dobby's eyes, somehow, widened further as he stared at Harry with dumbstruck awe.
"-will certainly be traced back to you." The headmaster was saying as Harry tuned back into their conversation.
Lucius looked livid. "Come, Dobby. We're leaving."
"Dobby doesn't think he will."
Harry almost laughed out loud at the expression on the blond wizard's face.
"What did you say to me?"
"Dobby will follow bad master no longer. Dobby is free!"
Lucius' face still looked like it couldn't decide whether to look confused or infuriated.
"YOU-" He started to scream.
"You shall go now!"
With a wave of his tiny hand, Dobby threw Lucius bodily from the room and slammed the door behind him.
"Hmmm. I didn't know that it could do that." Dumbledore mused to himself.
At that, Harry lost control and began to cackle.
…
Harry finally entered the hospital wing. He was oddly nervous. He could feel his Ice Queen's still frozen soul and knew that she had not been given the drought yet. At first, he was concerned, but then his mind jumped to the circumstances of her petrification. To her, the Basilisk was still alive and about to eat her. This would have to be handled delicately if they wanted the hospital wing to remain intact.
The Weasleys sat over in one corner around Ginny's bed. They glanced at him but did not approach as he moved to Hermione's bedside. The matron, however, bustled over to him.
"I'm glad you could make it, Mr Potter. The headmaster advised that you should be present when we wake up Miss Granger here. Taking into account the…damages… that occurred at the time of her attack, I can understand why he felt it was prudent to have a familiar face nearby. Whenever you're ready, I will bring her back."
Harry reached over and held Hermione's outstretched hands, letting his magic saturate the room and his best friend's soul. He tried to push forth as much of a feeling of safety and security as he could while also thickening the magic around her so that her inevitable explosion would not cause undue damage. The Weasleys looked up in interest as his magic rolled off him in visible waves.
"I'm ready, Madam Pomfrey."
The healer looked at him with a surprised and somewhat wary expression but moved forward to tip the potion into Hermione's frozen mouth, nonetheless. Harry could feel the powerful potion working its magic moving through Hermione's body and soul. He felt her soul start to unlock, sparks and light starting to move again until-
Hermione's eyes snapped open and flooded the room with icy blue light. Her power crackled in her wild hair, danced through the room with a violent intensity. Harry held on to her hands tightly, pushing his magic against hers and allowing his power to mingle and join with her own in a symphony of safety and destructive determination.
"Hermione! It's ok, you're safe, I'm here, it's ok." He tried to call to her through the storm.
The Weasleys jumped to their feet in surprise at the display, backing away even as Hermione's magic calmed. Her eyes returned to their normal beautiful golden brown and her arms went slack in his hands. She looked up at him in confusion before he saw understanding flit over her face, and she sat up slowly.
"I'm so sorry Harry. I knew not to open my eyes but…"
Harry sat down beside her and pulled her into a hug. She sighed into his shoulder as she nestled against his side on the bed. Harry was acutely aware of the matron and the Weasleys watching them with confused awe and instinctual terror, but he determinedly ignored them.
"It's ok, you did brilliantly, Hermione. I'm sorry that I wasn't fast enough. I was already in the castle when you were petrified, I saw your soul freeze…"
She sniffled into his shoulder as she took deep, shuddering breaths to try and calm herself. Harry let his magic swirl around them slowly and steadily, trying to infuse the air and the bed and his Ice Queen's soul with his feeling of safety and home. He felt her body slowly relax into his as her adrenaline rush faded.
Finally, she raised her head to look at him, although making no attempts to move out of his arms. Harry glanced around and realized that the matron was gone and the Weasleys had sat back down, although they were talking in hushed tones and shooting looks at he and Hermione every so often.
"I feel like we have these types of recaps far too often, but what did I miss as a statue?"
Harry took a deep breath and told her the whole story. He felt a bizarre sense of déjà vu to the end of the last school year. He really hoped that this wouldn't become a habit.
Hermione took a deep breath of her own.
"So, in summary, in the twenty-four hours that I involuntarily left you to your own devices," she started in a low tone, "You tried to mind-control the minister of magic, entered the Chamber of Secrets, fought the Basilisk and the ghost of sixteen-year-old Voldemort, during which you pulled a fragment of divinity out of a hat and proceeded to eat it."
She was really starting to build some momentum.
"After which, you found out that Voldemort may very well be the master of four of these godly thrift store donations, and has been looking for them for fifty years? That's not even to mention Dumbledore and Grindelwald being lovers, because I just…can't, with that right now."
She took another deep breath and closed her eyes again as she rested her head back against his neck.
"Dammit Harry, next time I swear that I'm going to be the one who goes on the wild adventure to eat the left pinky finger of Zeus or something while you're stuck in a bed somewhere."
Harry chuckled. He didn't think that he had ever heard her swear before. It was kind of cute.
"You said something along those lines last year too and look where it got us."
"Has anyone ever told you that you're an absolute prat, Sword Swallower?"
"No actually, but that's probably because that name sounds a bit rude."
Hermione went red and Harry laughed even louder.
