Chapter 58 – Do not pity the dead

The evening air in the seventh-floor corridor was thick with anticipation as Daphne and Rigel, both transformed into their Animagus forms, waited in the shadows. The corridor was dimly lit, with torches casting flickering light on the stone walls, creating a play of shadows that danced across the floor. The two cats, a sleek black one and a grey tabby, both with striking blue eyes, lounged casually behind a suit of armour, their eyes alert and ears perked, listening for any sound that might indicate Draco Malfoy's arrival.

Rigel, the black cat, stretched languidly, his muscles rippling under his glossy fur. He then flicked his tail playfully, nudging Daphne, the grey tabby, who responded with a soft purr and a gentle headbutt. Rigel nuzzled Daphne affectionately before resuming his watchful posture.

The corridor was silent except for the occasional creak of the castle settling and the distant hum of student activity far below. Rigel's keen eyes scanned the hallway, noticing the dust motes floating lazily in the torchlight. Daphne's whiskers twitched as she caught the faint scent of something wafting down the corridor.

After several minutes, the sound of footsteps echoed down the corridor. Rigel's ears twitched, and Daphne's eyes narrowed as they both focused on the approaching figure. Draco Malfoy appeared, his platinum blonde hair gleaming in the torchlight. He looked around anxiously, his eyes darting up and down the corridor as if searching for any lurking students. Satisfied that he was alone, Draco began to pace back and forth three times in front of the blank stretch of wall.

As soon as the door to the Room of Requirement materialised, Draco slipped inside quickly, glancing over his shoulder one last time. Rigel and Daphne sprang into action. Padding silently to the door, they approached it with the grace and stealth only cats could muster. In true Hogwarts fashion, a cat flap appeared at the bottom of the door, allowing them to slip inside unnoticed.

Inside, they found themselves in the Room of Hidden Things, the very room where they had once discovered the lost diadem of Ravenclaw. The vast space was filled with towering piles of forgotten objects and old furniture, casting long shadows in the dim light. The air was thick with the musty scent of aged books and dust. What could Draco be doing here?

They finally spotted him in the distance, working on a large, ornate cabinet. Draco muttered to himself, his voice carrying over the clutter. "If I don't fix this soon, she's going to kill me," he whispered, his hands trembling slightly as he worked. "This is my mission. It's very important. I can do it. I have to do it."

Rigel and Daphne exchanged a look, their feline eyes filled with determination. They needed more information. They moved stealthily through the room, until they were close to Draco and transformed into their human forms, drawing their wands silently. Rigel disarmed Draco with a swift flick of his wand, sending Draco's wand skittering across the floor. At the same moment, Daphne cast the Imperius Curse, her voice low but commanding.

Draco's eyes glazed over as the curse took hold, and he stood there, swaying slightly, his face slack and expressionless. Rigel stepped closer, his wand still trained on Draco, his voice cold and precise. "Tell us what you're doing here, Draco," he demanded. "Why is this cabinet so important?"

Draco's voice was flat, devoid of emotion, as he began to explain. "It's a vanishing cabinet," he said. "It has a twin. They form a bridge. When this one is fixed, my Aunt Bellatrix and a squad of Death Eaters will use it to infiltrate and attack the school. Their ultimate goal is to eliminate Dumbledore. It's my first mission."

Rigel's eyes narrowed, and he exchanged a glance with Daphne. This was worse than they had imagined. "Who gave you this mission?" Daphne asked, her voice sharp.

"The Dark Lord himself," Draco replied, his tone still monotone. "He entrusted me with this task. If I fail, there will be severe consequences."

Rigel's expression hardened. "What exactly are the consequences?" he pressed, his grip tightening on his wand.

Draco's face twitched, a flicker of fear breaking through the blankness. "My family will be punished," he said. "Me, my father... even my mother. The Dark Lord is fed up with my father's recent shortcomings, and gave me the chance to redeem my family's reputation."

Daphne took a step closer, her eyes boring into Draco's. "Show us your arm," she commanded.

With a mechanical motion, Draco rolled up his sleeve, revealing the Dark Mark etched into his forearm. The black tattoo stood out starkly against his pale skin, a sinister testament to his allegiance.

Rigel and Daphne shared a concerned look. The implications of Draco's words were chilling. They needed to act, and fast. Daphne took a deep breath and began to speak again. "Do you know when they plan to attack?" she asked, her voice steady.

Draco's brow furrowed slightly, as if struggling to remember. "Once the cabinet is fixed," he said. "It could be days, maybe weeks. I don't know for sure. But it has to be soon. The Dark Lord is growing impatient."

Rigel nodded slowly, his mind racing with the possibilities. They needed to inform the others, but first, they had to ensure Draco would remember none of this. "Daphne," he said quietly, "do it."

Daphne nodded, her expression grim. She raised her wand and began the complex spell to obliviate Draco's memory of their encounter. Her wand moved in intricate patterns, and she whispered the incantation under her breath. Draco's eyes flickered, and for a moment, it seemed like he might resist, but then his expression smoothed out once more.

When she was done, Draco stood there, blinking slowly, as if waking from a dream. Daphne replaced his memories with mundane details of another evening spent trying to repair the cabinet, fearful of his aunt's wrath. Satisfied with her work, she stepped back and exchanged a look with Rigel.

"We need to go," Rigel said quietly. "We have to come up with a plan."

They slipped out of the Room of Requirement, their thoughts racing. The safety of the entire school depended on what they did next. As they made their way back through the darkened corridors of Hogwarts, they knew that their discovery had set into motion a series of events that could change everything.

~~~o~~~

Harry felt a flutter of nervous excitement as he made his way to Dumbledore's office after dinner. The Great Hall was still abuzz with the chatter of students finishing their meals, but Harry's mind was focused on the mysterious summons from the Headmaster. His friends had promised to delay their usual evening meeting to wait for him, their curiosity piqued by the unexpected call.

Approaching the stone gargoyle that guarded the entrance to Dumbledore's office, Harry barely had time to consider what password might be required before the statue sprang to life, moving aside to reveal the spiral staircase beyond. Clearly, Dumbledore had instructed it to let him through without the usual formality. Harry stepped onto the moving staircase, which carried him smoothly upward.

At the top, he knocked on the heavy wooden door. "Come in, Harry," Dumbledore's voice called out, sounding as warm and welcoming as ever. Harry pushed the door open and stepped inside.

The office was just as he remembered: a cluttered yet cosy space filled with magical artefacts, softly glowing candles, and the gentle rustle of Fawkes, the phoenix, perched on his golden stand. Dumbledore sat behind his ornate desk, his eyes twinkling behind his half-moon spectacles.

"Good evening, Harry," Dumbledore greeted him, a smile spreading across his face. "I trust your holidays were pleasant?"

Harry nodded, returning the smile. "Yes, they were very pleasant, thank you, Professor." He paused, about to inquire after Dumbledore's own holidays when he noticed the Headmaster's hand. It was blackened and shrivelled, looking painfully diseased.

Dumbledore caught Harry's gaze and, with a slight sigh, said, "Ah, I see you've noticed. This, Harry, is part of why I summoned you here today." He reached into a drawer and pulled out a small, ornate box, which he placed on the desk before him. Opening it, he revealed a ring.

Harry leaned forward to examine the ring but did not touch it. He recognised the Gaunt family crest. "Is that...?" he began, his voice trailing off.

"Indeed," Dumbledore confirmed. "It is a Horcrux. But rest assured, I have dealt with it. What remains is merely the ring and the stone it once housed."

Harry peered closer at the stone, feeling a strange familiarity with its appearance, though he couldn't quite place why. It seemed important, but the memory eluded him.

"During my efforts to retrieve and destroy the Horcrux," Dumbledore continued, "I encountered a rather nasty curse, as you can see." He lifted his blackened hand slightly. "However, do not worry. Professor Snape is already working on countering it."

Harry was surprised. "Professor Snape? Why isn't Professor Lupin trying to reverse it? He is the Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher, after all."

Dumbledore smiled, his eyes twinkling with amusement. "Very true, but Severus has a certain knack for the Dark Arts that makes him particularly suited for this task. It's best if we leave it at that."

Harry nodded, accepting the explanation. "What are we going to do today, Professor, besides the good news of another Horcrux being dealt with?"

Dumbledore's eyes gleamed with a familiar sparkle. "I have a solid lead on another Horcrux. Considering that my previous attempt left me somewhat worse for wear, it would be prudent for you to accompany me on this next endeavour."

Harry nodded, determination set in his features. "I'd be glad to, Professor."

"Excellent news," Dumbledore replied, a note of genuine pleasure in his voice. "We will leave in a week. In the meantime, I have some exercises for you—meant to strengthen your magical core and improve your control. If you practise these regularly, you can unlock your full potential."

Harry's eyes lit up with eagerness. Finally, he would learn something that would help him in the fight against Voldemort, instead of merely delving into the dark wizard's past.

For the next few hours, Dumbledore guided Harry through a series of intricate magical exercises. The Headmaster's instructions were clear and precise, each exercise designed to push Harry's limits and enhance his magical abilities. They practised focusing and channelling magic, delicate wand movements, and spells that required intense concentration and control.

Dumbledore demonstrated each exercise with effortless grace, his movements smooth and fluid despite his injured hand. Harry followed suit, repeating the exercises until he felt the magic flow more naturally through him. The room was filled with the soft hum of magical energy, punctuated by the occasional flare of light as a spell was cast.

"Remember, Harry," Dumbledore said gently as they concluded their session, "the strength of your magic lies not just in power, but in control. Practise these exercises diligently, and you will find yourself growing stronger with each day."

Harry nodded, his mind buzzing with newfound knowledge and determination. "Thank you, Professor. I will."

Dumbledore smiled warmly. "I have no doubt that you will, Harry. Now, go and join your friends. I am sure they are waiting for you."

As Harry descended the spiral staircase, his heart was lighter, filled with a renewed sense of purpose. Finally, Dumbledore had taught him something useful, and not only that he destroyed another Horcrux. He would have to discuss this with the others, as soon as he got to them.

Harry walked briskly through the dimly lit corridors of Hogwarts, his thoughts racing ahead to the news he was about to share. The portraits on the walls whispered amongst themselves, their eyes following him as he made his way to Daphne and Rigel's suite. The suite had become their primary meeting spot, a sanctuary where they could discuss their plans and concerns away from prying eyes, especially ever since Draco had been doing who knew what in the Room of Requirement.

He reached the familiar painting of the hooded wizard, asking him for entry and stepped into the warmly lit room. The smell of parchment and a faint hint of Daphne's lavender perfume filled the air. Inside, Hermione, Neville, Tracey, Daphne, and Rigel were already waiting, their faces lighting up as he entered.

"Harry!" Hermione exclaimed, her eyes shining with excitement and relief. "We've been waiting for you."

"Hey, everyone," Harry greeted them with a wide smile. "I have both good and interesting news."

He moved to join them, taking a seat next to Hermione on the plush sofa. The fire crackled in the hearth, casting a warm glow over the room. Everyone leaned in, eager to hear what he had to say.

"Dumbledore found and destroyed another Horcrux," Harry began, his voice filled with a mixture of excitement and relief. "The Gaunt family ring."

The room buzzed with excitement. Tracey's eyes widened, and she leaned forward. "Does that mean we've got them all?" she asked, voicing the question on everyone's mind.

Harry shook his head at Tracey's question. "Dumbledore apparently has a lead on another Horcrux, and he wants me to come along to get it. We'll leave in exactly one week, which gives me time to prepare."

Tracey's excitement was palpable, her brown eyes glowing with anticipation. "That has to be the last one then. Voldemort can't split his soul that many times."

A heavy silence settled over the group as they contemplated her words. Rigel was the first to speak, his tone thoughtful. "There's no way to know for sure," he said, his blue eyes reflecting the flickering firelight. "But there can't be many left. Harry, what's the interesting news?"

Harry took a deep breath, his expression turning serious. "Dumbledore was cursed while getting the ring. His right hand... it's literally rotting. He still seems capable, but I think it's taking a toll on him."

The reactions around the room were varied. Hermione's face paled with worry, her fingers twisting in her lap. Tracey and Neville exchanged shocked glances, their mouths slightly agape. Daphne and Rigel, however, remained expressionless, their eyes flickering with a subtle hint of intrigue.

"That's terrible," Hermione whispered, her brow furrowed deeply.

Harry continued, "Dumbledore also taught me some exercises focused on controlling my magic better. Finally, something useful from him."

Rigel nodded approvingly, a small smirk playing on his lips. "That's exactly what you need, Harry. With more control, you'll be able to harness the full power of your magic. And let's be honest, you're by far the most powerful here, at least in raw power."

Harry smirked back, the familiar competitive spark igniting between the brothers. "Soon, I'll be able to beat you, Rigel."

Rigel chuckled, the sound low and rich. "We'll see about that." He then stood up, his eyes bright with excitement and a hint of something darker. "Daphne and I have some news to share as well," he announced, drawing everyone's attention. "We used our Animagus forms to follow Draco into the Room of Requirement and finally found out what he's doing."

Daphne stepped forward, her expression serious. "We saw him working on a vanishing cabinet," she explained. "We heard him muttering to himself, terrified that his aunt Bellatrix will kill him if he doesn't fix it soon. He believes the mission to eliminate Dumbledore will fail if he can't get it working."

Shocked gasps echoed around the room. Hermione's hand flew to her mouth, Neville's eyes widened in horror, and Tracey looked stricken. Rigel continued, his voice steady. "I think the vanishing cabinet has a twin. Once repaired, the Death Eaters could use it to enter Hogwarts and try to take out Dumbledore. We have to ensure that no students come to harm."

Harry felt a surge of determination. "Why don't we just go into the Room of Requirement and destroy the cabinet?" he suggested.

Rigel nodded thoughtfully. "The thought certainly crossed my mind. However, given the recent news that Dumbledore is weakened and planning to retrieve another Horcrux, an idea has formed in my mind."

Harry looked confused. "What do you mean, Rigel?"

Rigel's eyes gleamed with a calculated light. "This is the perfect opportunity to get rid of Dumbledore. We let the Death Eaters enter the school but prepare a trap for them instead. We have both Aurors and the Order of the Phoenix ready to ensure the safety of the students. However, they could still manage to get Dumbledore—a tragic accident to be sure."

The room fell silent, the air heavy with tension. Hermione, Neville, and Tracey looked horrified. Harry's heart pounded in his chest. "Are you suggesting we kill Dumbledore and blame the Death Eaters for it?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

Rigel nodded, his expression unyielding. "That's exactly my plan. Dumbledore will be weakened from getting the Horcrux. This is the only chance we have to take out the old fool. And with another Horcrux down, Voldemort will not last much longer. The two biggest obstacles for our new peaceful world, taken care of."

Tracey looked uncertain, her brow furrowed. "I'm not sure about this, Rigel. It sounds a bit... extreme."

Hermione hesitated, glancing between her friends before speaking up, her voice tinged with anxiety. "I can't believe you're seriously considering this. Finally, Dumbledore is helping us, and now of all times, you want to get rid of him?"

Rigel turned to her, his eyes sharp and calculating. "Hermione, this is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. Getting rid of Dumbledore was always the tricky part of our plan, and now we have a real, simple chance to do it. If we let this slip, we might never get another opportunity like it."

Hermione frowned, crossing her arms. "But isn't this going too far? We need him, Rigel. Without Dumbledore, our chances against Voldemort might dwindle."

"That's where you're wrong," Rigel replied smoothly. "Dumbledore's only been using us to further his own goals. His interest in helping us has always been about getting Harry on his side. Once Dumbledore is out of the picture, we can move forward without his interference."

Harry shook his head, feeling a knot tighten in his stomach. "I don't like Dumbledore either, but this is going a bit too far."

Daphne stepped closer, her voice calm but firm. "Harry, you agreed to work with us for a better wizarding world. The way won't be easy, and sometimes we have to make tough decisions. But it's for the bigger picture, for our shared vision of a world where anyone can be someone, based on their own merit. Both Dumbledore and Voldemort stand in the way of that."

Harry looked hesitant, his mind a whirlwind of conflicting thoughts and emotions. Rigel placed a hand on his shoulder, his touch warm and reassuring. "I know it's hard, Harry. It isn't easy for me either, but we have to do it. It's either this or risk our vision for a better world."

Reluctantly, Harry nodded. "I'll help."

Rigel smiled, his expression softening. "Thank you, little brother."

Harry sighed, resigned. "What do I need to do?"

Rigel explained, "Just make sure Dumbledore exerts himself as much as possible during the Horcrux retrieval. The weaker he is, the easier our job will be. Then Daphne and I will await your return, and the three of us together will confront him. He won't stand a chance."

Harry wasn't happy with it, but he knew Rigel was right. Dumbledore was set in his ways, and that old mindset needed to go. He knew he couldn't choose Dumbledore over his own brother.

As curfew approached, the group began to disperse. Rigel turned to Harry. "We'll work together to prepare for the day."

Harry nodded, then turned to Tracey. "I'll walk you to the Slytherin Common Room."

They walked in silence through the dimly lit corridors, their footsteps echoing off the stone walls. At the entrance to the Slytherin Common Room, Harry turned to Tracey, his expression softening. He leaned in and gave her a gentle kiss goodnight.

Tracey looked up at him, her eyes filled with uncertainty. "I'm not sure about this, Harry, but I trust your judgement."

Harry nodded, feeling the weight of her trust. "Goodnight, Tracey."

"Goodnight, Harry," she whispered, disappearing into the common room.

Harry turned and made his way up to the Gryffindor common room. The Fat Lady in the portrait swung open without comment, sensing his mood. He climbed the stairs to his dormitory, his mind churning with the events of the evening. As he lay in bed, staring up at the canopy, he knew this wouldn't be an easy night for him.

~~~o~~~

The week flew by in a blur of intense training and preparation. Every morning, Harry began with the exercises Dumbledore had prescribed, focusing on strengthening his magical core and honing his control. These sessions left him feeling invigorated, his magic flowing more naturally than ever before. Daphne helped him perfect the spells he and Tracey had developed, her precise wand movements and sharp eye catching every flaw and correcting it. Rigel, always the strategist, provided specialised duelling advice, pushing Harry to think faster, act smarter, and strike harder.

Harry's confidence soared. His wand felt like an extension of his own arm, his movements fluid and precise. His arsenal of spells was refreshed, new and improved, ready for any challenge. However, despite feeling on top of the world, Rigel refused to duel him, much to Harry's frustration.

"Right now isn't the time," Rigel had said, his expression serious.

Annoying as it was, Harry had to concede. There were more pressing matters at hand.

He was also pleased to hear that Rigel had enlisted Tonks to set the trap for the Death Eaters. As a member of the Order of the Phoenix and an Auror, she was perfectly positioned to inform both groups without raising suspicion. They were all on standby, expecting something to happen in Hogsmeade rather than Hogwarts. This proximity would allow them to quickly spring into action and divert Dumbledore's attention, crucially without knowing the precise date, ensuring Dumbledore would not postpone their trip.

Rigel and Daphne had also ensured that all the student members of the Order of the Black Cat were ready. They explicitly instructed everyone to blend in, assuming their usual roles as students and keeping a close eye on their peers. Rigel even granted permission for members to inform their closest non-Order friends, provided they could keep their mouths shut. The goal was clear: no lives were to be lost today, save for those of Dumbledore and the Death Eaters, if it could be avoided.

The attack was timed to roughly coincide with Harry and Dumbledore's return from their Horcrux retrieval mission. Harry had been thoroughly briefed and knew his role perfectly. He had to ensure Dumbledore exerted himself during the mission but also ensure their success. Most importantly, Dumbledore could not suspect Harry's ulterior motive. The vision for a better world hinged on everything going right. Despite the detailed plans and rigorous training, Harry felt a persistent knot of conflict in his chest. He knew it was for the best; Rigel had never led him astray. Yet, something felt wrong, off. He chalked it up to nerves, the weight of the responsibility bearing down on him.

Finally, the summons came. Dumbledore had requested Harry meet him at the Astronomy Tower—a curious choice of departure point. Harry informed Rigel, assuming it would also be their point of return. His brother nodded, understanding the unspoken implications.

Harry made his way up the long, winding stairs of the Astronomy Tower, his footsteps echoing in the silent corridor. The castle felt unusually quiet, as if it too were holding its breath for what was to come. His thoughts were a turbulent mix of loyalty and doubt, excitement and dread. He trusted Rigel with his life, believed in their shared vision of a better world. But the thought of killing Dumbledore gnawed at his conscience.

Reaching the top of the stairs, Harry paused for a moment, looking out at the night sky through the narrow windows. The stars glittered coldly, indifferent to the turmoil within him. He took a deep breath, steeling himself. This was for the greater good. Rigel had never led him astray. He repeated this mantra silently, trying to quell the unease that lingered in his mind.

Pushing open the heavy wooden door, Harry stepped into the Astronomy Tower. The night air was cool, carrying the scent of the Forbidden Forest and the distant sounds of the castle settling. Dumbledore stood near the edge, looking out over the grounds, his silver beard and hair catching the moonlight.

"Ah, Harry," Dumbledore greeted him, turning with a warm smile. "Are you ready to begin our mission?"

Harry nodded, forcing a smile. "Yes, Professor. I'm ready."

As they prepared to depart, Harry's mind was a storm of conflicting emotions. He had to play his role perfectly, ensuring Dumbledore's success while setting the stage for his demise. It was a fine line to walk, and the weight of it bore down on him heavily. But Rigel's words echoed in his mind, and he knew he had to trust his brother. For their vision of a better world, he had to see this through.

With a final glance at the starry sky, Harry stepped forward, ready to begin the mission that would shape the future of the wizarding world.

Harry stood on the edge of the Astronomy Tower, the night air cool and crisp against his skin. Dumbledore's eyes twinkled in the moonlight, a stark contrast to the seriousness of his tone.

"Where is the Horcrux hidden, Professor?" Harry asked, his voice steady despite the turmoil inside.

Dumbledore smiled gently, the lines on his face softening. "I would much rather show you, Harry. But first, there are a few rules. It is very important that you follow my instructions without question. Your wellbeing is much more important than mine." He extended his arm toward Harry, the gesture both a command and a request.

Harry nodded slowly, the weight of the task ahead pressing down on him. He took Dumbledore's arm, feeling the aged strength in the Headmaster's grip. With a swift turn, they disapparated, the world around them dissolving into a whirlwind of colour and sound.

They reappeared at the sea side of a cliff. The air was thick with the scent of salt and decay, the crash of waves echoing in the distance. The rock face was jagged, covered in slick, dark moss. Harry could feel the subtle hints of Dark Magic lingering in the air, a malevolent presence that sent shivers down his spine. Dumbledore was certainly right—Voldemort had been here.

"The entrance should be here somewhere," Dumbledore murmured, his eyes scanning the rock. "This place will have multiple protections in place. Voldemort is nothing if not thorough." He paused, a look of realisation crossing his face. "Ah, of course. Payment must be made to enter, one that would weaken the intruder."

Dumbledore took out a small, sharp knife from his robes, the blade glinting ominously in the dim light. Harry's stomach churned at the sight. "Professor, perhaps I should offer my blood," he suggested, his voice tinged with concern.

Dumbledore smiled warmly at Harry, a paternal pride shining in his eyes. "Your bravery is commendable, Harry, but as I said before, your wellbeing is paramount." With that, he made a swift cut on his own hand, the dark blood welling up and dripping onto the rock. The air seemed to hum with power as the blood soaked into the stone.

A deep rumble reverberated through the cliff, and slowly, an entrance opened, the rock shifting to reveal a dark passage. Dumbledore stepped inside, motioning for Harry to follow. Harry hesitated for a moment, a shiver running down his spine. A cave filled with traps? That sounded eerily like what Kreacher had described when speaking about the place where the locket was hidden. But that couldn't be, could it?

The passageway was narrow and damp, the walls glistening with moisture. The air grew colder as they ventured deeper, their footsteps echoing off the stone. They emerged into a vast cavern, the ceiling lost in shadow. In the centre of the cavern was a lake, so dark it seemed to swallow the light.

Dumbledore raised his wand, a ball of light blooming at its tip—stronger and more far-reaching than a simple Lumos. The light revealed a small island in the middle of the lake, a lonely speck in the vast darkness.

Harry's heart pounded in his chest, the eerie silence of the cave amplifying his inner conflict. He had to keep his thoughts hidden from Dumbledore, but the weight of their mission and the plan that awaited them gnawed at his conscience.

Dumbledore stood at the edge of the dark, still lake, his eyes narrowed in concentration. Slowly, he reached out his hand over the water. Almost immediately, there was a disturbance in the lake's surface, and a chain shot up, breaking the eerie calm. Dumbledore grasped the chain firmly and handed it to Harry. Together, they pulled with all their strength, and a small, ancient boat emerged from the depths.

Harry was astonished. "Professor, how did you know about the boat?"

Dumbledore's eyes twinkled despite the darkness surrounding them. "There were faint traces of magic, Harry. I am quite adept at sensing such things."

They carefully stepped into the boat, which rocked slightly under their weight. As they began to glide silently across the black water towards the small island, Harry's thoughts were a tangled mess of conflicting emotions and loyalties.

Dumbledore broke the silence, his voice gentle. "Despite the differences we have had, Harry, I am happy to see what a dependable young man you have become. Your parents would be quite proud of you."

Harry was taken aback by the compliment, and though he tried to focus on Dumbledore's role in his troubled upbringing and opposition to Rigel's vision, the Headmaster's words stirred something deep within him. He couldn't deny the warmth that spread through him, fanning the fire of conflict raging in his heart even more.

They reached the small island, and in the centre of it, they found a stone basin filled with a mysterious liquid. Something shimmered faintly at the bottom, tantalisingly out of reach. Dumbledore extended his hand into the basin, but his fingers met resistance. He withdrew them, frowning.

"The potion must be drunk. Every last drop," Dumbledore said firmly, his voice brooking no argument. "You must ensure that I drink all of it, Harry. No matter what happens, do you understand?"

Harry nodded slowly, a sense of dread settling over him. "Yes, Professor."

Dumbledore conjured a goblet and dipped it into the basin, filling it with the strange potion. He raised it to his lips and drank. At first, there was no visible reaction. He continued drinking, his expression unchanging as he consumed several goblets.

But then, as he swallowed another mouthful, a shudder ran through his body. He drank again, and this time, his face began to contort in pain. He gasped, nearly dropping the goblet as his hands trembled violently.

"No more, please, no more," Dumbledore begged, his voice weak and filled with torment. "I don't want... don't make me..."

But Harry steeled himself, knowing what he had to do. "You have to keep drinking, Professor. It's the only way."

Dumbledore continued to drink, his cries of agony growing louder with each gulp. Harry's hands shook as he refilled the goblet again and again, forcing Dumbledore to drink the bitter potion. Tears welled up in Harry's eyes, but he blinked them away, focusing on the task at hand.

"Please, stop, I beg you," Dumbledore pleaded, his voice breaking. "I can't... I can't..."

"You have to, Professor," Harry said, his voice trembling. "You have to finish it."

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, the potion was gone. Dumbledore collapsed to the ground, gasping for breath. Harry's heart ached at the sight of the once-strong wizard reduced to such a state. Despite everything, the sight pained him deeply.

Harry reached into the basin and retrieved the locket. As soon as he touched it, he knew it was a fake; it held no magic. They had already destroyed the real locket. But he couldn't let Dumbledore know that now. He had to play his part.

"Professor, we did it," Harry said, holding up the locket. But Dumbledore was barely able to speak, his voice a mere whisper.

"Water," Dumbledore croaked, his eyes pleading. "Please, Harry, water."

Harry grabbed the goblet and rushed to the edge of the lake, crouching down to fill it with water. The surface of the water was eerily calm, reflecting the faint light from Dumbledore's spell. As soon as he dipped the goblet into the lake, something cold and clammy clamped onto his wrist, yanking him towards the dark depths.

Panic surged through him, and he dropped the goblet, his free hand instinctively reaching for his wand. In a flash, he severed the hand that had grabbed him, the water erupting in a spurt of dark liquid. But there was no time to breathe a sigh of relief. All around the island, pale, lifeless figures began to emerge from the water. The Inferi were storming them from all sides.

Harry's heart raced, but he remembered Lupin's teachings: Inferi were weak to fire. Harry had always had an affinity for fire, and now it would be his greatest asset. His wand flicked out, and he cast a fierce Incendio, sending a torrent of flames at the advancing horde.

The first wave of Inferi recoiled, their flesh searing and blackening as the fire consumed them. Harry didn't hesitate. He conjured a blazing ring of fire around himself and Dumbledore, who was too weak to stand. The Inferi shrieked and hissed as they were forced back, but more kept coming, their eyes vacant and unseeing, driven by a relentless, mindless hunger.

Harry cast another Incendio, then a Firestorm, whirling flames engulfing the nearest Inferi, reducing them to ash. His movements were quick and precise, each spell flowing seamlessly into the next. His heart was pounding, but he kept his head cool, focusing on the immediate threat.

"Protego Maxima!" he shouted, erecting a powerful shield to give himself a moment's respite. The Inferi clawed at it, their hands burning on contact with the magical barrier. Harry scanned the area, assessing their numbers. It felt like they never stopped coming.

He cleared a path to the boat with another Firestorm, the intense heat causing the air to shimmer. He quickly dragged Dumbledore, who was still under the effect of the potion, into the boat. Dumbledore's weight was heavier than Harry anticipated, his limbs limp and unresponsive.

"Hang on, Professor," Harry muttered, pushing off from the shore.

As the boat began to glide back across the lake, Inferi started to claw at its sides, trying to pull it under, to flip it over. Harry's wand flashed, sending jets of flame in every direction. The boat rocked precariously as he battled the relentless onslaught.

"Incendio!" Harry yelled, the spells coming more instinctively now. The fire roared around them, driving the Inferi back. Some tried to climb over the boat, but Harry blasted them away, his fire spells incinerating them before they could get too close.

The journey across the lake felt endless. The boat creaked ominously as Harry and Dumbledore slowly made their way across the dark water. Inferi continued to rise from the depths, their dead eyes fixed on their prey. The pale, rotting figures clambered over each other, desperate to reach the boat. Their numbers seemed infinite, an unending tide of the undead.

Harry's arms ached from casting spell after spell, his muscles burning with exertion. Sweat dripped down his forehead, and his breaths came in short, sharp gasps. But he couldn't let up. He had to see this through.

As more Inferi surged towards the boat, Harry's eyes narrowed with determination. He needed something more powerful, something that would provide constant defence. Drawing on his affinity for fire, he pointed his wand at the air above the boat.

Harry shouted, conjuring flames into the air. The fire hung there, suspended for a moment, before Harry flicked his wand again, shaping the flames into a series of glowing swords. The swords blazed with intense heat, their edges sharp and deadly.

With another flick of his wand, Harry instructed the flaming swords to circle the boat. The swords moved with precision, slicing through any Inferi that tried to approach. The smell of burning flesh filled the air as the Inferi were cut down, their bodies falling back into the water with a sickening hiss.

The flaming swords provided a brief respite, giving Harry a moment to catch his breath. But the Inferi were relentless. They continued to swarm, undeterred by the fiery barrier. Harry gritted his teeth, his mind racing. He needed to maintain the spell, to keep the swords in motion.

The swords danced around the boat, their fiery glow reflecting off the dark water. They cut down wave after wave of Inferi, the heat from the flames casting an eerie light over the scene. Harry's heart pounded in his chest, but he kept his focus, directing the swords with precise movements of his wand.

Every now and then, an Inferius would manage to slip past the flaming barrier, clawing at the boat with skeletal hands. Harry would dispatch them quickly with a burst of flame, his spells burning through the undead flesh with ease.

Despite the constant attacks, the boat continued to glide steadily towards the shore. Harry's arms ached and his head throbbed, but he kept the flaming swords circling, his determination unwavering. He could see the shore getting closer, the rocky outcrop where they had begun their journey.

As they neared the shore, the Inferi grew more desperate, their attacks more frenzied. Several of them leapt from the water, trying to drag the boat down. Harry directed a flaming sword to slice through the attacking Inferi, their bodies falling away in charred pieces.

Finally, they reached the shore. Harry wasted no time. He dispelled the flaming swords and leapt from the boat, pulling Dumbledore with him. The Headmaster was barely able to stand, his weight heavy against Harry's shoulder.

With the last of his strength, Harry half-dragged, half-carried Dumbledore towards the cave's entrance. The Inferi were still reaching for them, but without the water to sustain them, they were slower, less coordinated. Harry cast one final ring of fire around the entrance, ensuring they wouldn't be followed.

Once outside the cave, the Inferi ceased their pursuit, melting back into the darkness of the lake. The night air was cool and fresh, a stark contrast to the oppressive heat of Harry's fire spells. Both Harry and Dumbledore were exhausted, their breaths coming in ragged gasps.

Harry looked down at Dumbledore, who was barely conscious, his eyes half-closed in pain and fatigue. "We did it, Professor," he said softly, though his mind was still reeling from the realisation that the locket was a fake.

Harry took a deep breath, trying to steady his racing heart. Dumbledore, still weak but regaining his strength, smiled warmly at him. "I can see that my exercises did wonders for you, Harry. One day, you will be a very powerful wizard."

"Thank you, Professor," Harry replied, still catching his breath. "I just need a moment to recover before I can apparate us back."

Dumbledore shook his head with a gentle smile. "I'm not that weak and feeble yet. The potion's effects are quickly fading. I can easily apparate us."

Harry had a nagging feeling that Dumbledore hadn't been entirely helpless during their ordeal with the Inferi. It felt more like a test, but he didn't want to make the Headmaster suspicious. He returned the smile and took Dumbledore's arm.

With a familiar whirl of colour and sound, they disapparated and reappeared on the Astronomy Tower. The tranquillity of Hogwarts was shattered by the chaos below. In the courtyards, spells flew back and forth, illuminating the night with bursts of coloured light as Death Eaters clashed with Aurors.

Dumbledore frowned, a rare expression of anger crossing his face. "I didn't expect them to attack today, and certainly not Hogwarts directly."

Harry's thoughts raced. Everything was falling into place. The Death Eaters were here, attacking the school, just as Rigel had planned. Harry just hoped that all went as planned and that no students or professors were in danger.

Suddenly, the sound of footsteps echoed up the stairs of the Astronomy Tower. Dumbledore quickly commanded, "Harry, hide!"

But Harry stood his ground, defiant. "No, Professor. You're too weak to defend yourself."

Dumbledore reassured him, his voice calm but firm. "I am fine, Harry. More than capable of handling whoever is coming."

Harry retorted, "It didn't look that way earlier during the Inferi attack."

Before they could continue, the footsteps reached the top of the stairs. To Harry's surprise, it was Draco Malfoy.

Dumbledore greeted him in his usual jovial tone, "Draco, are you sure you want to go through with this? There is always a way to redemption if you choose to walk it."

But as Draco turned towards them, his eyes were glazed over. He was under the Imperius Curse. Harry realised that this was likely how Daphne and Rigel had extracted information from him. Why hadn't they mentioned it earlier?

Two more figures stepped up from the staircase, both wearing the robes and golden cat masks of the Order of the Black Cat. It was Daphne and Rigel.

The shorter one had her wand out, pointed at Draco. Daphne was the one holding him under the Imperius Curse. She quickly stunned Draco, letting him crumple to the floor.

Dumbledore's voice was filled with a mix of anger and disappointment. "Daphne, Rigel, are you finally ready to show your true colours? Are you here to take Draco's place as my assassins?"

Rigel chuckled, his voice muffled by the enchantment on his mask. "This has been a long time coming, Professor. If you hadn't been a thorn in our side, an obstacle at every step, we wouldn't have to do this. But alas, with another Horcrux dealt with, we no longer need your help in the fight against Voldemort—if you ever planned on helping, that is."

Dumbledore turned to Harry, his eyes pleading. "Harry, this is what I meant when I said Rigel would one day be consumed by his ambition. Please, stop this madness."

Harry felt a deep, painful conflict tear at his soul. The locket they had recovered was a fake, not an actual Horcrux. But he knew he couldn't back out now. Rigel was his brother, his family. He couldn't choose Dumbledore over him, no matter the cost.

Drawing his wand, Harry moved to stand between Daphne and Rigel, pointing his wand at Dumbledore. Daphne and Rigel did the same. Harry's heart ached as he spoke, "I'm sorry, Professor."

Dumbledore's face fell, the hurt and sadness evident in his eyes. "Harry..."

Harry's heart pounded as he faced Dumbledore, his wand aimed directly at the Headmaster. He had made his choice, but the weight of it pressed heavily on his conscience. Steeling himself, he cast the first spell, a blast of fire erupting from his wand, aiming to ignite the Headmaster.

Dumbledore moved with a speed that belied his age, deftly countering the spell with a sweep of his wand. The fire dissipated, and he immediately went on the offensive, sending a wave of magical energy toward Daphne and Rigel. "Expelliarmus!"

Daphne was quick to react, deflecting the spell and retaliating with a curse. "Sectumsempra!" A jet of dark magic slashed through the air, aiming to slice Dumbledore, but he countered it just in time, the spell dissipating into sparks.

Rigel, meanwhile, advanced on Dumbledore, his wand weaving deadly patterns in the air causing a barrage of black arrows shooting toward the Headmaster.

Dumbledore deflected the spell effortlessly, his eyes never leaving Harry. "You don't have to do this, Harry. There's still time to make the right choice." His voice was calm but filled with urgency.

Harry hesitated, his wand trembling slightly. But Daphne and Rigel pressed on, their spells coming fast and furious. Dumbledore was forced to divide his attention between the three of them, his wand a blur as he deflected curses and counterattacked.

"Confringo!" Daphne yelled again, this time her aim more precise. The blasting curse hit the wall behind Dumbledore, sending debris flying. Dumbledore retaliated with a powerful Blasting Curse of his own, which caught Daphne in the shoulder, sending her spinning to the ground with a cry of pain.

Rigel moved in closer, his wand movements precise and deadly. "Reducto!" he shouted, the jet of blue-blackish light aimed directly at Dumbledore. But Dumbledore was ready, a Protego shield erupting just in time to deflect the curse.

Dumbledore's face was set in grim determination as he cast another spell, "Reducto!" The curse hit Rigel in the side, making him stagger and clutch his ribs, blood seeping through his robes.

Harry watched in awe and horror as the duel raged on. Dumbledore was putting up a formidable fight, his spells powerful and precise. He managed to wound both Daphne and Rigel, but they were relentless, driven by their shared goal.

Dumbledore turned his attention back to Harry. "Please, Harry, stop this madness. You don't have to follow this path."

Harry's mind was a whirlwind of emotions. He knew Dumbledore was trying to reach him, trying to turn him back. But he had made his choice. With a surge of anger and frustration, he shouted, "Sectumsempra!"

The dark spell slashed through the air, aimed directly at Dumbledore. The Headmaster deflected it just in time, but the strain was beginning to show. He was breathing heavily, his movements slightly slower.

Daphne and Rigel seized the opportunity. They exchanged a quick glance, a silent understanding passing between them. Together, they cast a binding spell, one that Daphne had devised. "Adligo Manus!" they shouted in unison, each aiming at one of Dumbledore's arms.

Two solid lines of magic shot from their wands, tethering Dumbledore's arms and holding him in place. Dumbledore struggled against the bonds, his face a mask of frustration and pain. He tried to break free, but the spell held firm.

"Harry, now!" Rigel shouted, his voice strained. "Finish him! Do it NOW!"

Harry's heart pounded in his chest. He looked at Dumbledore, who met his gaze with a mixture of sadness and disappointment. This was it. The moment he had been dreading.

He hesitated, his wand trembling in his hand. Images of Dumbledore flashed through his mind: the wise, kind old man who had welcomed him to Hogwarts, the protector who had guided him through so many dangers. But then the darker memories surged forward, overwhelming the fleeting moments of kindness.

"Harry, we can't hold him much longer," Daphne urged, her voice sharp and insistent. "Do it now, before it's too late!"

Harry's breath quickened. He thought of all the secrets Dumbledore had kept from him. The way he had placed him with the Dursleys, subjecting him to years of neglect and abuse. He remembered the revelation that Dumbledore had been acting as Regent Potter, making decisions about his life without his knowledge. He thought of Sirius, his godfather, whose unjust incarceration Dumbledore had failed to prevent. And Rigel... his godbrother, who had spent over a decade trapped in the body of a cat because of Dumbledore's manipulations and neglect.

"Harry!" Rigel's voice cut through his thoughts, more urgent now. "Do it! You have to!"

Dumbledore's eyes, filled with that familiar mix of sadness and disappointment, bore into him. Harry felt a surge of anger. How many times had Dumbledore failed him? How many times had he been left in the dark, suffering because of the old man's decisions? His grip on his wand tightened.

"You know what you have to do," Daphne whispered fiercely. "Think of all he's done. All he's failed to do."

Harry's mind whirled, the memories of every slight, every failure, every betrayal bubbling to the surface. The man who stood before him was not a protector, not a mentor, but an obstacle. An obstacle to the new world they were trying to create. A world free from manipulation and deceit.

With a deep breath, Harry focused all his anger, all his resentment toward Dumbledore. He summoned every ounce of hatred and frustration, feeling it build within him like a storm. His wand steadied, his resolve hardening.

"Avada Kedavra!" he shouted, his voice echoing in the tower.

A jet of green light shot from his wand, striking Dumbledore square in the chest. For a brief moment, time seemed to stand still. Dumbledore's eyes locked with Harry's, the sadness and disappointment in them cutting through Harry's resolve. But Harry held firm, his heart hardened by the weight of his memories.

Then, with a final, shuddering breath, Dumbledore fell, lifeless, to the floor.

Daphne and Rigel dropped to their knees, exhausted and wounded. The battle had taken its toll on them. Harry fell to his knees as well, the weight of what he had just done crashing down on him. He had killed Dumbledore.

Was it right? Was this truly the path he was meant to follow? Harry's mind was a storm of conflicting emotions. He had chosen his family, chosen Rigel, but the cost was a burden he wasn't sure he could bear.

The Astronomy Tower was silent, the echoes of the battle fading into the night. Harry's heart was heavy, his mind tormented by doubt. He had to believe it was for the best. For the vision of a better world. But the image of Dumbledore's sad, disappointed eyes haunted him, a ghost that would linger long after this night.

The air was heavy with silence as Rigel, with calculated movements, rose to his feet and approached Dumbledore's lifeless body. His face was a mask of cold determination as he searched the Headmaster, quickly finding the ring and the stone. He pocketed them with a satisfied nod before turning to Draco. In one swift motion, he snatched Draco's wand and pointed it at Dumbledore's corpse. "Avada Kedavra," he intoned, the green light flashing briefly.

Harry stared in shock. "Why did you do that?"

Daphne began casting a spell on the unconscious Draco, her wand moving with practised precision. Rigel, without missing a beat, explained, "We're framing Draco for Dumbledore's death. Daphne is altering his memory, erasing any trace of us using the Imperius Curse on him. Instead, his plan will appear to have gone off without a hitch. Dumbledore returns weakened from a dangerous mission, and Draco casts the Killing Curse, then summons the Dark Mark to signal the other Death Eaters that their mission was a success. Draco, exhausted from the curse, falls unconscious after casting the Dark Mark."

Harry opened his mouth to respond, but Rigel had already moved to the railing. "Are you ready?" he asked Daphne.

Daphne nodded, her eyes steely. "Draco's memories have been altered. No one will suspect anything."

Rigel nodded back, a grim satisfaction in his eyes. He raised Draco's wand and shot the Dark Mark into the sky above the Astronomy Tower. The green skull and serpent illuminated the night, a chilling beacon of their deed. He then tossed the wand next to Draco's body and turned to Harry. "We have to go before the Aurors arrive."

Swiftly, the trio left the Astronomy Tower, their footsteps echoing through the corridors as they made their way to the seventh floor. Daphne summoned the Room of Requirement, and they slipped inside.

Inside, the atmosphere was tense. The other members of the Order of the Black Cat were already waiting. Some bore signs of battle—scratches, burns, and torn robes. Neville looked especially shaken, his face pale and drawn.

Harry approached him. "Neville, what happened?"

Neville looked up, his eyes filled with a mixture of fear and frustration. "I faced Bellatrix," he said quietly. "But I couldn't get revenge for my parents."

Before Harry could respond, the door opened, and Tracey and Hermione entered. Tracey's eyes immediately locked onto Harry, her face etched with concern. She crossed the room in a few quick strides and wrapped her arms around him, holding him tightly. Harry felt the tension in his muscles ease slightly at her touch, but his mind was still a whirlwind of conflicting emotions.

Tracey pulled back just enough to look into his eyes, her expression softening. "Are you alright, Harry?" she asked, her voice filled with genuine worry. She seemed to have a sixth sense for his emotions, always knowing when he needed comfort or support.

Harry hesitated, unsure how to put his feelings into words. He felt terrible, not just physically exhausted but emotionally drained. The weight of what he had just done bore heavily on his shoulders, and he wondered if it showed on his face. Did he look as distressed as he felt?

Tracey's eyes searched his face, reading the turmoil in his expression. "Harry, talk to me," she urged gently. "How are you feeling? Really?"

Harry took a shaky breath, his voice barely above a whisper. "I... I don't know. It's a lot to process. Dumbledore is dead, and it was me who... who did it."

Tracey hugged him tighter, her voice soothing. "It's alright, Harry. You did what you had to do. We're here for you."

Harry nodded, the warmth of her embrace providing a small measure of comfort. After a moment, Tracey pulled back slightly, her eyes still full of concern. She hesitated before asking, her tone careful and timid, "And the mission... did it go as planned?"

Harry sighed, reaching into his robes to pull out the locket. "Yes, we finished the mission." he said, the words tasting bitter on his tongue. "But the Horcrux we got wasn't really a Horcrux. Dumbledore found the cave where Regulus had already stolen a Horcrux from."

Rigel sighed, a note of frustration in his voice. "Then there might be one left still. We'll have to redouble our efforts to find out about it. But for now, we need to lie low until the whole Dumbledore situation blows over."

The others nodded in agreement, their faces grim but resolute. The atmosphere was heavy with the aftermath of their actions.

The tension in the room was palpable as the door to the Room of Requirement opened once more, and Tonks and Remus stepped in. The room quieted instantly, all eyes turning to them. Tonks' hair was a subdued brown, reflecting the sombreness of the night, while Remus' face was etched with weariness.

Tonks spoke first, her voice carrying a mixture of relief and gravity. "We've had some wounded among the Order of the Phoenix and a few casualties among the Aurors. A decent number of Death Eaters were either killed or captured, which is good news. No students, besides some members of the Order of the Black Cat, or staff members were hurt. All in all, the mission went off without a hitch."

Rigel nodded, stepping forward to address her. "Thank you for the report, Tonks. You did an excellent job coordinating both the Order of the Phoenix and the Aurors in this mission."

Tonks beamed at the compliment, her usual cheerfulness returning for a moment. Rigel then turned to Remus, his expression more serious. "How are you feeling, especially about Dumbledore's death?"

Remus scoffed, his eyes flashing with anger. "Call it what it is, Rigel—an assassination. There were other solutions, other paths we could have taken, but your lust for power blinded you."

Gasps of shock rippled through the room. Many of the Order members looked stunned by Remus' bluntness. But Rigel remained unfazed, meeting Remus' gaze calmly. "If you feel that way, why do you follow the cause? Why haven't you told my father about all of this and tried to stop it?"

Remus' eyes narrowed, and he put a protective arm around Tonks. "I fell in love with her, and she believes in the cause. If it weren't for her firm belief in you, Rigel, I would have tried to stop this."

Rigel smiled, a cold, calculating smile. "As long as you follow the cause and aren't trying to stop it, you can have whatever opinion you want of me."

Tonks stepped between them, her voice firm. "That's enough. We have bigger things to worry about."

Rigel nodded, turning back to Tonks. "Notify us of the next Order of the Phoenix meeting."

Tonks looked puzzled. "Why?"

Rigel's expression softened slightly. "Harry, Tracey, Daphne, and I will join the next meeting to make good on an offer Dumbledore once made to us."

Tonks nodded, understanding dawning on her face. "I'll inform you over the mirror once a date is set."

Rigel thanked her and then turned to address the room. "Everyone, get some rest. Blend in with the rest of the students. Today, we made a monumental step toward our vision of a new, better wizarding world."

The room erupted in applause, though some were more enthusiastic than others. Slowly, the group began to disperse, each member returning to their respective common rooms, their minds heavy with the mixture of celebration and tragedy.

Harry lingered for a moment, his mind drifting back to Dumbledore's demise. Tracey squeezed his hand, offering silent support. He nodded, grateful for her presence, even as his thoughts remained conflicted. Today marked the end of an era and the beginning of a new one. Whether it was for better or worse, only time would tell.