Chapter 43: Heading Home

Monday, 26th June 1995.

Sirius watched from the doorway.

The now numerous Potter elves fussed over the two children, applying the burn cream to their bodies before they would be allowed to return to the school for the final day.

Their sudden return to the Manor the afternoon before, covered in mild burns had everyone concerned, and soon the full story of their day had been revealed. The effort required to destroy these abominations was proving to be far beyond what any of them had expected, and Harry had planned to begin researching in their library upon their return from Hogwarts later that day, in the hopes of finding a safer method.

But that had spurred a line of thought in Sirius that he had hoped to avoid for a long time to come.

As he had suggested to the others the morning before, he had found references to foul magic like soul anchors in his own family library as a younger man. In books so horrific they had given him nightmares of the worst sort.

And yet, it seemed like those books might now hold the key to Riddle's final destruction. Even more importantly, they might be critical to keeping Harry from needing to be involved at all.

But those books were all contained in the second-last place on Earth that Sirius wanted to go. Number 12 Grimmauld Place. As with the 31st of October 1981, Sirius had no fond memories of that place. Only pain and ridicule. The only reason it wasn't number one on his list was its lack of Dementors.

He had, with the help of Harry's ever-growing family and the surprise visit from the Dementors on Saturday, finally come to terms with his freedom from the imprisonment that had been a full fifth of his life. And the majority of his adult one.

Was it finally time to face his remaining demons in the dark and dismal halls of the place Walburga had called home?

He was drawn out of his thoughts by arms wrapping around him.

"Cheer up, Sirius," Harry said, smiling up at him, though much closer to his face than when he'd first returned to them. Having grown quite a bit over the past six years. "We'll be back at King's Cross before you know it. But we have to take the train home with our friends at least once. And you know that this might be our only chance to do so."

Sirius smiled at the boy and ran his hand through the lad's messy hair. In some ways, he was the spitting image of James at that age. But the longer he lived with them, the more Harry had come to be his own man in Sirius's eyes.

"I know, kiddo. But you know I miss you when you're gone." He said, lying to cover what he had really been worrying himself over. And there was still enough truth in the statement that Harry would believe him, rather than questioning him further. "I'll be waiting to see you off the train."

Harry gave him a firm squeeze, which Sirius returned. Soon the lad would be even taller than he was, if he kept up this growth rate. Something he knew Harry didn't really worry about with both the girls currently being taller than him, thanks to their being older and further through puberty. He was still only fourteen after all.

"Go on. I'm sure your friends are waiting." Sirius said. Putting Harry at arm's length for a moment and having a good look at him.

"Bye, Sirius," Hermione said, giving a snap of her fingers and then vanishing a full two seconds later with a smile on her face.

Harry looked up at him with his own smirk, before he shook his head and popped away to the school as well. Leaving Sirius alone with several elves, all of whom were trying their hardest not to look in his direction.

Sirius couldn't help but smile at the fact that Hermione had clearly done something to his appearance once again. He could see why Harry adored her so much. And he knew she did most of it for his own benefit. To try and distract him when he got too caught up in his own head.

It certainly helped to ground him. And for now, he could be worried about figuring out how to clear whatever spell she had cast.

There was time yet to worry about heading back to the hell of his childhood.

ϟ

Luna sat quietly on the bench seat, simply enjoying the pleasant atmosphere of being amongst friends.

Hermione had migrated from sitting beside her to sitting fully on Harry's lap by this stage, so she had plenty of room to herself. Nym, Padma and Neville sat opposite them for the moment, chatting away with the happy couple in the corner.

So far, it had been a very different experience than her last few trips on the Express.

There was a palpable air of joy in the compartment. Even after Dumbledore's rather gloomy end-of-term speech warning them all to be vigilant, which had drawn a smirk from their Defence professor, and to strengthen their bonds of friendship and family in the coming months. Preaching unity against possible dark futures.

A heady topic to bring to bear over students still celebrating the completion of the Tournament. Yet it hadn't brought down her little friend group.

They had still been quite chipper while saying goodbye to the surprisingly large number of new friends they'd all made with the students from the two visiting schools. Even Luna had befriended a few and was saddened to see them go, knowing they would not be returning the next year.

Watching their magical carriage and ship disappear into the distance as they completed their own trip down to Hogsmeade had left a few of the Hogwarts students rather pensieve. Yet, despite being involved in the events in question, Harry was just happy to spend time with those around him now.

Luna smiled to herself.

She knew that Harry hated being noticed for his fame. But his every action made him a beacon around which people gathered. Even some that she would rather not deal with.

"Alright, you lot," Nym said, standing up. She was certainly not in that latter group. Luna found her to be a ray of sunshine wherever the elder girl went. "I'm off for now. Got to go and say goodbye to my other friends as well. I'll see you later."

"Thanks, Nym," Hermione replied with a smile.

Harry nodded in his cousin's direction. "If you see any of the others on your travels, let them know where we are. And that they're welcome to join us if they like."

"Will do," Nym replied, slipping out of the compartment and heading down the train.

Luna very much liked the Tonks girl and was glad that she would be returning the following year to take her NEWT exams. Meeting Harry had changed her life so much, and she was sure to talk her mother's ear off to no end once she got home tonight about all the incredible things she had seen and done this year.

Thinking on all of it, she had fallen out of sync with the conversation still going on amongst the others when the door to the compartment opened and Luna and Padma turned to see who it was as Harry and Hermione laughed at the joke that it seemed Neville had just told to them all.

Standing there was someone who definitely fit in the rather not deal with category. The smarmy boy had occasionally taken the opportunity to make Luna's life hard if they should meet in the corridors. But being from Slytherin house and in the year above hers, she didn't often encounter Draco Malfoy or his constant companions.

He glared into the compartment with a self-righteous sneer on his face and his eyes rapidly locked on the two figures in the far corner.

"Potter." The boy said, the sneer colouring the word as he harshly popped the P of Harry's last name.

"Yes?" Harry asked, not bothering to look around Hermione who was blocking his view of the doorway.

Malfoy seemed to seeth at what he must have perceived as a slight on his person, rather than Harry's refusal to upset his girlfriend's seating position to look at a stranger. In much the same way that Luna had seen students doing with the pet cats that seemed to command the Ravenclaw common room. One poor second-year boy had burst into tears when one of them had refused to vacate its position atop his homework assignment. It had taken two prefects to calm the boy back down again.

"You've had it easy this year. Mother still thinks that I should keep clear of you, just like Father commanded all year. But I'm through being silent. And you're going to pay for what you have done." Malfoy spat, quickly losing his usual composed demeanour.

"What did I do exactly? And who are you?" Harry asked, sitting slightly straighter, but still not making any real effort to look past Hermione.

Luna wondered, not for the first time, if the pair were more in sync than even she thought truly possible. It seemed as though Harry was sensing or seeing Malfoy through Hermione's eyes. She could feel both of them tracking the figure in the doorway precisely, even though Harry wasn't truly paying him that much attention.

"The paper might be trying to keep it all quiet, but I know the truth, Potter. I know you were responsible for my father's death."

"Your father? Huh, right. You must be Malfoy." Harry replied, still not moving to look around Hermione. "Pity about all of that."

"Pity!? You murdered my father!" Malfoy raged.

"Did not."

This seemed to take Malfoy by surprise as he lost some of the red sheen that he had been building up.

"Mother sent me the report as proof. I know it was you." Malfoy snapped.

"Actually," Hermione interrupted, drawing the scowling boy's eye, "it was me. Your father attempted to murder us. We responded appropriately."

There was no malice in Hermione's statement. Luna knew that they weren't the type to hold the sins of the father against the child. Neither of them would hate Draco simply because Lucius had sought to kill them. But Malfoy was not the sort to take an insult lightly.

"You. That's impossible." He spat back, and Luna rolled her eyes at the stupidity of the refusal. Having interacted with the pureblooded brat a few times in the past, she knew exactly what he was finding so unbelievable about the statement.

Luna shook her head slightly as she gently opened her robe and withdrew her wand, unnoticed by the three figures in the doorway.

"Typical lying filth. My father was a great man. There is no way that a disgusting little mudblood like yo…" Malfoy started before he suddenly went silent as Harry finally surged to his feet, Hermione still carefully wrapped in her boyfriend's arms, but also slipping across his hip to angle towards the door, preparing to bring her own wand to bear.

But Harry did not move to do anything further once he caught sight of the look on Malfoy's face, the first he had even looked at the intruder. The previously pompous boy was both stunned and in agony, though seemed extremely confused as to why. Luna looked up at his confused face and twisted her wand slightly, digging the old Lovegood family curse she was casting even deeper into the unguarded flesh of Malfoy's lower torso.

"Don't insult my friends." She offered softly as Malfoy folded in the middle.

His hands dropped to his groin as he fell to the floor, banging his head hard against the polished timber surface. The two hulking figures who had been so intimidating behind Malfoy now seemed utterly confused as to what to do, before they both tried to rush through the doorway at once, jamming themselves in the opening as they could not fit through together.

Luna ignored them, knowing that her friends would take care of any threat from there. She gently nudged Malfoy onto his side with her foot so that he could see her face as she continued to embed the ancient curse into his body.

"I don't tolerate bullies like you anymore. Now, be a good little boy and leave us be. If you can't handle a tiny little third-year like myself, you have absolutely no chance against anyone else in this compartment. We'll see if you can improve your behaviour next year. Then maybe, I will remove this curse. If you do not…" She left the sentence unfinished as the curse fully settled into place and Malfoy gave off a pitiful whine of pain.

"Luna," Harry said, no sense of reprimand in his tone. "You didn't need to do that."

He seemed almost proud of her if anything.

She smiled. "Just doing the world a favour."

"If you try one at a time," Neville said, looking at the hulking idiots still trying to simultaneously squeeze through the door, "you'll have more luck. Then you can take that away so we can finish the ride in peace."

Luna noticed that both he and Padma had drawn their wands as well and were tracking one of the two figures each. Something that they finally realized too. Crabbe slipped through the doorway as Goyle watched Neville track his face precisely with his wand.

It seemed that without Malfoy to give them instructions, and with physical violence not an easy option with their opponents already armed and ready, the two were actually intelligent enough to just bend down and lift Malfoy between them. It made for a very pitiful sight as they dragged the moaning child between them down the corridor. His feet dragged along the floor behind him as the gorillas caused him further pain as his body shook along every joint and bump in the floor.

"What did you do to him?" Padma asked as Neville closed the door and Hermione calmed her still slightly red boyfriend.

"A very old family curse. Harry gave me the idea, actually." Luna replied, tucking her wand over her ear and into the wild mess of hair running down her back.

"I did?" Harry asked, seemingly confused.

Luna smiled at him, noting that he and Hermione had once again returned to their previous seating arrangement and were both looking in her direction.

"When we first met, you showed me it was possible to set an enchantment to break based on preset conditions."

Harry smirked as he recalled the event too. It had taken another two weeks for the final one of her tormentors to retrieve their wand from the wall. And none of the teachers had been lenient on Belby in their classes once Professor Flitwick had explained the reason for the wand's absence. And the simplicity with which it could be retrieved.

Luna had learned a lot that day. Including the fact that the professors had indeed cracked down considerably on bullying in the school. But that they couldn't act if they didn't know it was going on. Their crackdown had only led most of the bullies to become smarter about how and where they executed their crimes. They tended to avoid acting in places that were commonly patrolled, or that had paintings that could report their actions back to the professors. At least, the ones with any brains had. Some were not so intelligent.

"What condition?" Padma enquired, obviously enthralled at the possibility of some new arcane knowledge. Especially the kind dealt out by their two friends.

"Remorse," Luna replied. "If he sees the error of his ways and feels remorse for what he has been doing, the curse will break on its own."

"And just what did you curse him with?" Hermione asked, looking at her proudly.

Luna shrugged. "As I said, it is a very old family curse. From around the time we first took the name Lovegood."

Most of Luna's few encounters with Malfoy during her first years at the school had been focused on him mocking her for her perceived dottiness. Or her father's magazine and death. However, she had accidentally stumbled on him abusing other girls around the school in far more physical ways. While her oddness had kept her from ever experiencing his perverse habits first-hand, so far as she knew, others had not been so lucky. And with his ever-present guards, she was never able to intervene. Not that she really had the courage to do so before she had made her new friends this year.

To make matters worse, the couple of times she had tried to help by asking the girls about it later, they had acted as if they had no idea what Luna was talking about and had mocked her in return. Memory charms made someone like Malfoy very dangerous indeed. Thus she found cursing him with painful impotence every time he experienced arousal to be a fitting punishment.

Luna was prevented from dwelling on those memories when she felt a pair of arms encircle her, and she looked up to see Hermione holding her firmly. Having shifted off of Harry to hold her tightly instead.

"Thank you for defending my honour." The elder girl whispered, squeezing Luna tightly.

"You are my friend," Luna replied.

She would do anything for her friends.

Hermione gave her one last tight squeeze before she pulled back. There was an odd silence in the compartment for a few moments before Harry summoned his wand and silently conjured a small table in the middle of the compartment.

"Shall we play a game? Now I have my lap free for a moment." He joked, and Hermione gave him a gentle knock with her shoulder, but remained between Harry and Luna on the bench. Her arm draped across Luna's shoulders, filling her with a sense of warmth and comfort that she normally only felt with her mother.

Neville reached into his pocket and laid a set of cards out on the table, all five of them shifting to better reach the play area as Neville prepared the game.

"Oh, by the way," Harry said, looking over at Neville. "I got permission to bring you to visit the Manor."

Neville looked at Harry curiously as he dealt the cards around the group.

"I wanted your advice on some of the mixes we've been using. And to show you my greenhouses. Get an expert opinion." Harry finished.

Neville blushed bright red at the comment, but they all knew it to be true. He was a natural herbalist. Even Professor Sprout had learned a thing or two from the boy, and he was still only fourteen. Everyone seemed certain that Neville had an incredibly bright future ahead of him.

"You're going to love it," Hermione said, smiling to herself and Luna wished she could be invited to see as well.

"And the rest of you will also be getting invites as soon as I can manage it as well," Harry added, as if he had read her very thoughts. "Just need to finish clearing the dates with your families. You should receive a few letters or visits from Remus and Sirius this next week or so."

Padma seemed as stunned as Luna felt.

"Just keep an eye on them both whenever they're around," Hermione warned. "Sirius especially has a bad habit of not knowing when to stop fooling around."

The brunette picked up her cards now that the game was set and Luna found herself even more intrigued about what her holidays might hold in store.

ϟ

Tuesday, 27th June 1995.

Draco Malfoy was livid, and sore.

He tried not to move as he lay atop his enormous bed. Every time he did, the agony would surge through his core. The fact that his mother had no sympathy for him either was especially galling.

First, she hadn't even bothered to collect him from the filthy muggle station. Instead sending one of their elves, as if he were an infant not to be trusted with his own safety. Then, once he had arrived home and shared the tale of his humiliation, she had chastised him. For violating their warnings to avoid Potter. She didn't even react when Draco had informed her of the mublood's claim to have been the one that killed father. It was as if she didn't even care that his father had been murdered by some uppity mudblood. And that she was terrified of Potter for some unfathomable reason.

She had simply floo-called a healer to come and look him over and then had retreated to her own chambers the night before. Reiterating once more that he should leave the pair well alone. Though her concern seemed oddly focused on Potter, given the bitch was supposedly the one who had killed his father.

Earlier today, the Ministry had added insult to his injury by informing them that his father would not even get the decency of vengeance. Some trumped-up charges of kidnapping, attempted murder and performing a dark ritual had been laid against him posthumously, preventing any kind of retaliation against Potter and his whore through any legal channel as the two were claiming to have acted in self-defence. And the DMLE were buying that pathetic story. Even if Draco tried throwing some of his fortune around, it would get him nowhere. It didn't matter that his father had been cleaved in two according to the report from St Mungo's.

A sharp spike of pain distracted Draco from his seething once again, as it had all day long. He tried his utmost not to touch the affected area, as that only made it hurt more.

The healer had been less than useless.

All he could tell was that there was a curse in place. But he could not identify or remove it. Handing Draco contact details for a curse breaker at Gringotts, he had departed. After ensuring the collection of his fee, of course.

The bastard hadn't even done anything.

It was as if the name Malfoy no longer commanded any respect.

All his life, Draco had been told how special he was. How his name and blood meant he would one day be feared and respected in equal measure. That the mudbloods and blood traitors would quiver beneath his heel at his pleasure. Free for him to do with as he pleased.

And in a single weekend, that had seemingly vanished.

His mind whirled through all the options still before him. He must have vengeance for the wrongs that had been visited upon him. Lovegood would suffer for what she had done. And Potter would watch helplessly as Draco killed his little pet in front of his eyes.

Draco had no idea how he would achieve these things, but he knew that the balance had to be restored.

This nonsense had gone on long enough.

ϟ

Hermione could feel Harry's frustration building as they ate.

Though, it was admittedly difficult to tell where his ended and her own began. The furtive looks they had been getting all day led to only one conclusion. The adults were hiding something from them again. Something they felt would upset the two children.

While she knew they only did it out of love and concern for Harry and herself, it was still annoying to experience the uncertainty surrounding them.

"Enough," Harry said, finally snapping. "Out with it."

Her boyfriend locked his eyes on Remus, as he tended to be the one that news filtered into the Family through. But Hermione was surprised when her father responded instead.

"After your little disappearing act on Sunday," He started, and Hermione felt a blush colouring her cheeks after the discussion that had been held on her impatience, "the others didn't want to tell you. There was a fire in London on Sunday. Several people are believed to have been killed."

Hermione immediately calculated what they had been thinking. There was only one reason that they would conceal such an occurrence from the two of them. They were worried Harry would feel guilty. And only one individual could have been responsible if that was their concern.

"Riddle," Harry said simply, speaking aloud the thoughts she had just experienced. "You're all worried I'm going to think it's my fault for not stopping him at the Graveyard."

Hermione laced her fingers into his hand, but he did not turn to face her, keeping his eyes fixed on the others for the moment.

"It had come up as a possibility, yes." Hermione's mother noted.

Hermione couldn't help the smile that grew on her face. It was often obvious that her parents had the longest history with the pair of them. They had known Harry for almost a decade now, and had seen him in all kinds of different states. They were usually better at reading him than Remus or Sirius managed. The two Marauders often having difficulty separating the boy from their experiences with his father.

"I would assume, Wool's?" Hermione asked.

It was the only location they knew Riddle had a connection to in London. The place where he had been raised before he set out into the world to complete the transformation from Tom Riddle into Voldemort. Though, in her opinion, that transformation had only been a physical one. From the research they had done on the man, Tom Riddle had always been a monster.

Finally, Remus nodded. "Yes. Although the orphanage was shut down sometime in the late sixties. When the government closed most of them. But a pair of lovely squibs bought it. They fixed it up and turned it into a foster/group home for wayward magical youth. Squibs that were cast out of their families. Young magicals that lost their memory or way due to accidental magic. Anyone that the system at that time didn't protect."

"How many?" Harry asked.

"About three dozen kids were living there," Natalie said. "And an assortment of adults as well."

"They took in anyone who was down on their luck." Richard continued. "Folks who lost everything thanks to Riddle's war. Others that were thrown out of their families for flukes of biology. People who no longer felt safe in their own homes. So long as they were willing to help care for the children they would have free room and board for as long as they needed."

"Even in the muggle world, the place was fairly well known," Natalie added. "It was held up as a shining example of the way that fostering and group homes were better options than orphanages. Being in the middle of London didn't hurt either."

Harry finally looked over to Hermione and she noticed several emotions swirling both in his magic and his eyes. But she was happy to note that the guilt he was feeling wasn't overwhelming.

"Fiendfyre?" He asked again.

"Riddle has never been all that subtle in his messages," Sirius said, seeming to understand that the Grangers were not going to hold back information when asked. "Unfortunately, as you both know, that makes identifying anyone, or even numbers inside, virtually impossible."

Harry sighed and she squeezed his hand softly in support. "I knew he'd do something horrible. I just didn't expect something like this. Not so soon."

"Harry," Remus said, drawing the boy's eye. "This is not your fault."

A small smirk appeared on Harry's face. "I know that. Even if I had destroyed that homunculus, Riddle wouldn't be dead. As long as the anchors are intact, he can't be fully killed."

"That's why we got Moody's help," Hermione said, once again defending her impulsive decision to rush off to Hogwarts the moment she'd connected the dots.

The looks she got in return were the same she had been receiving for days now.

"Riddle has always been a monster," Harry said, diverting attention away from her once again. "We know that better than most. Not only have we suffered his attention, but we have done the research. So long as he lives, all of you are in danger. Please," he pleaded, especially focusing on her parents, "stay within the bounds of the wards."

Natalie just stood up and walked around the table, kneeling beside Harry and placing her hand on his arm. "We'll do our best. But you need to stay safe too. No more rushing off without a word. Can you promise me that?"

Harry's eyes were locked on her mother, but she could feel the query in his magic. They were both very wary now when it came to making promises of any kind, lest their magic perhaps interpret the wording differently to how they might be thinking.

She sent him supportive feelings through her own magic, knowing that they would do whatever they had to if it came to protecting those they loved.

Harry took a sharp breath. "We'll do our best, too." He said, and she could hear the smirk in his voice.

Her mother closed her eyes for a moment and Hermione knew that she wanted to wrap them both in bubble wrap and tie them into their beds. When Natalie opened them again, Hermione knew she had accepted their vague assurance.

"Alright." She whispered, sitting up in the chair next to Harry now.

Hermione looked back at the others, who seemed equally dissatisfied with their lack of a firm promise. "Is there anything we can do to help?" She asked.

"I've already committed a chunk of the Black fortune to help any relief efforts," Sirius stated, smiling cheekily as he continued. "The best way to spend my horrible family's money is on those that they hated most."

"Can you rebuild it?" Harry asked. "Keep our names out of it, but have it rebuilt in honour of those lost. It sounds like they did incredible work."

All the adults smiled at Harry and Hermione felt her love for him strengthen even more. He was such a kind person. Despite his odd and slightly spoiled upbringing, he still cared deeply for other people.

"I think that's a fantastic idea, Harry," Richard said.

"I'll speak with the goblins, and see what we can do," Remus added.

Harry sighed again. "And given Fudge's lackey has had Madame Bones move that meeting he wants to next week, Hermione and I will be doing our tests over the next few days."

"I'd still feel better if you let us come along," Richard said.

Hermione smiled at her father. "I would like that, but what we plan to do borders on a ritual. It's going to be hard enough to keep the regular visitors away. If we start adding exceptions, we'll only weaken the warding."

"Just be safe. I know the elves will be there, but… be careful." Remus said.

"We will," Harry replied and the tension that had been in the air before had now almost completely dissipated.

But Hermione could still feel the uncertainty in Harry's magic. He wanted to keep them all safe and away from the war that was brewing. But he knew that Riddle wanted him to be a part of it, and would find ways to keep dragging him in.

It perplexed her as well and she was going to find a way to keep Harry safe. No matter the cost.

ϟ

Wednesday, 28th June 1995.

Lord Voldemort carefully approached the rundown shack.

It had taken him several days of careful watching before he had even been able to get anywhere close to it. Thanks to the Aurors crawling all over the area after the events of Saturday night.

He had been forced to hide in a cave he knew of in the area. Relegated to the shadows and thievery as he recovered papers from nearby bins to try and find any news. None of his followers were nearby for him to use to call the rest. And while the Daily Prophet had happily reported the death and capture of a number of those who had heeded his call, they had not named them either.

Meaning he had no idea whether any of their homes would have proven a haven enough to hole up in for the moment. Or a trap just waiting to close on him. While he had not been named in any of the articles, that did not mean that the brat hadn't informed the Ministry of his return. Without knowing for sure, Voldemort was being as cautious as possible.

Finally, earlier that very morning, the last of the Aurors cleared out of Little Hangleton. Clearing the path Voldemort needed to the wooded area now completely ignored by the nearby muggle town.

It would have been simple for him to crush any who stood between Lord Voldemort and his goal, but that would have confirmed his return and alerted the Ministry to his presence when their Aurors did not return. And raised questions as to what he was doing back in the area again so soon.

The safety of what he now sought relied mostly on the obscurity of the location. It had been decades since he had been anywhere near this wretched hovel. And time had not improved it in any way. The exterior was decaying badly, and the plants nearby now encroached upon it heavily. But his enchantments remained as strong as the day he had laid them in place.

He smirked at the particularly nasty nature of many of the spells he had left to defend the awful place. Any unprepared visitor would be ruined by much of the work laid here. Though a good amount of the spells were subtle enough to go unnoticed until it was far too late.

Riddle casually picked his way through the openings that he had left for himself. Quickly approaching the door that still bore the dead snake nailed to its surface. A remnant from his fool of an uncle. The last remnant of the pitiful family that had once called this hovel home, who now resided in the island prison instead. A remnant that would be destroyed for good when he marched through those halls to free his most loyal.

The dead creature started as he approached and locked its hollow eyes onto his own.

~What is most important in life?~ It hissed, asking the question he had left to secure the entryway. Not only protecting it via the enchantment, but via the talent that only he possessed.

~Power.~ Voldemort replied in parseltongue, allowing his magic to flare against the door, and the dead creature fell lifeless once more.

He nudged the doorway open and scowled at the smell that emanated out. The stench of decay filled the air. Food that even the stasis charms hadn't been able to sustain this long. Timber that had begun to rot away thanks to the leaking roof above. The smell of rodent corpses dotted about the dark corners of the hovel.

Several of the many rituals that Voldemort had put himself through over the years had greatly improved his senses, but even a dullard would have been overwhelmed by the smells in there. It was a sign of his incredible will that he could push the sensation aside as he stepped carefully across the floor to the far corner and the hidden space under the floor.

A complex chain of movements with the new wand had the floorboards peeling open like a twisted imitation of a flower blooming, revealing the small golden box within.

Riddle slowly swept his hand above the box, feeling the power of the enchantments he had laid down a lifetime ago. Unlike the protections outside, these were meant to encourage a seeker to grab the box and open it. For if someone had already made it this far, they would likely be expecting a sinister trap.

So Tom had left something more suggestive.

Opening the box, he smiled as he beheld the ancient symbol of his destiny within. The link that proved his mighty lineage adorned the black stone atop the pristine golden band. The family ring that he had rightfully taken from those no longer worthy of its majesty.

He did not need to confirm the spells on this, though. The moment he laid eyes upon the container, he could feel the piece of his soul within. Intact and tethered to this plane. It was a welcome relief to know that his efforts remained in place and that he retained his defence against the ever-present spectre of death.

Voldemort now had the peace of mind to begin enacting his greater plans. The incident with Potter had momentarily shaken his surety in his own power. But with his contingency confirmed to be intact, he could be somewhat bolder in his approach. Safe in the knowledge that should something go awry again, he could still return once more. Though he would not be foolishly so. Disembodiment was not a fun or entertaining experience. Nor was it something he wished to endure again any time soon.

He closed the box and replaced it under the floorboards. A feat no other should be able to achieve. They would be subtly compelled to wear the ring. And a suitable fate would await any who dared to do so.

For the moment, Riddle was satisfied. He knew that two more of his anchors were currently beyond his reach. For Bella had gleefully informed him that she had secreted Hufflepuff's Chalice in her wedded family's vault, deep in the bowels of Gringotts. Getting there without her or one of the two Lestrange men, all of whom he knew were utterly loyal to him, would require an army to deal with the creatures. And he was not so desperate as to need that for now.

And the ancient Diadem of Ravenclaw still sat unnoticed within Hogwarts herself. Protected by the very old fool who thought himself Lord Voldemort's equal and enemy. Much to the unending dismay of the foolish ghost who had led him to it, and was now bound so that she could never speak directly of its location to anyone. It made him smile to know the old man unknowingly kept a part of him safe.

And that it fueled the curse he had left behind when the fool had denied him a role at the school. He could only imagine the world he may have created by now if he had been allowed to share his wisdom with so many eager young minds.

Lucius had already paid for his carelessness with the diary. Something that had nearly cost the pompous fool his life. But instead had only cemented the man's role as the sacrifice in the ritual that had restored his master to glory.

That would need replacing at some point. But Tom needed time to consider his options for that one. He would need something significant to use as the container. But he already had several deaths he considered might be worthy of use for its recreation. He was done using muggles and beggars for such things.

Unfortunately, he had not detected any trace of Nagini in his time around Little Hangleton. And she was not responding to his attempts to bond with her mentally. This concerned him slightly, but with so many intact Horcruxes, it was not yet necessary to panic about her absence. It would not be the first time she had wandered off on him. He would never again make the mistake of creating a Horcrux out of a living creature with its own free will.

He would check the cave later. As it was a far more arduous process to get past its protections. And it was secure by nature of its obscurity. Voldemort had needed to know that the Ministry had not stumbled upon the Gaunt home as they conducted their pointless investigation. He knew they had been here before, and it was vital that he ensured the obscuring charms still kept them away.

But none knew of his experiments in the cave all those many years before.

Voldemort felt a perverse sense of joy as he recalled the events that had taken place. Bishop and Bensen had never been the same after his fun there. And they had not been allowed to live long enough into adulthood to ever tell another soul of what he had done to them that day. He had murdered them both shortly after he left Borgin and Burkes.

The pair now resided back in the cave for all time. Their decaying corpses amongst those defending his soul in that place.

Opening his eyes and leaving the pleasant memory behind, Tom stood and cautiously approached a cabinet in the back corner of the shack. The child's wand has sufficed for the moment, but it was a poor match for him overall. Succumbing to his overwhelming power reluctantly, and due to his prodigious will rather than working with his magic as his former wand had done. It had always been so eager to aid him in his actions. This one felt like forcing a human head through a brick wall.

Unlocking the cabinet, he reached his marble hand inside and withdrew another wand. One that had once belonged to the man for whom he had been named by the pitiful woman who had birthed him.

It was still not a good match, but was far better than the one he had freed from obscurity at the hands of the child. Instead, he placed it into the cabinet. A trophy of his good works. A reminder of the death of the last of his youth and the weakness held there. Lord Voldemort was beyond such weakness now, but he did so love to reminisce.

He resealed the cabinet with his grandfather's wand and retreated carefully from the shack. He would likely not have cause to return again for another several decades. Then only as a reminder of his immense power. Not out of any sense of belonging or familial attachment.

The hovel only remained as a sign of his majestic heritage and as a safe resting place for his soul. Were it not for those extraordinary points of worth, he would have demolished the place himself. But for now, it remained protected.

And now, he had an army to rebuild.