AN: Ok... i have to admit that i've been sick as a dog for the past week or so and most of this was written while high on cold and flu medication. I'm posting it becuase i dont have time to rewrite the whole thing. I appologise in advance.

Chapter 27

"It's a tiara not a diadem" Lyn remarked

"Aren't they the same thing?" Alex asked as he cast various detection spells on the horcrux.

Lyn was perched on a chest of drawers watching him work. "No. All tiaras are diadems but not all diadems are tiaras." Lyn shook her head. "I would know, I was a little princess growing up."

"You and every other girl exposed to the Mouse." Alex said distractedly as he followed a particularly tricky knot of magic attached to the Diadem, tiara, whatever.

"It has to do with the shape. Both are half circle crowns but a tiara specifically arches up in the middle just like that one arches up to hold the sapphire. The wings don't detract from that design aspect."

Alex nodded along; he got what she was saying. The tiara was an open-ended circlet made of a lustrous silver metal that Alex recognised as Goblin-wrought silver, which was strange as the Goblins had never claimed Ravenclaw's Diadem as theirs, perhaps Rowena had actually figured out how to replicate the mysterious metal? At the temple of the tiara, it held an oval sapphire about as large as a hen's egg set between two stylised silver wings and topped with the head of an eagle.

"That should do it." Alex said as he finally untangled the compulsion on the tiara with a deft twirl of his wand. He reached out and picked the unassuming circlet up and felt no desire to put the defiled object on his head. He could still feel the tainted fragment of soul within and it would still act to try and possess him should he actually wear the thing but at least now there was no danger in simply touching it.

"Are we doing this here?" Lyn hopped off the drawers to stand next to him.

Alex shook his head. "No, we'll go down to the mirror room. I might be doing this earlier than I anticipated but I still want to keep to the plan as much as I can."

And wasn't that the rub. Alex had wanted to keep to the original story as much as possible and confront the shade of Voldemort at the end of the school year. Yet after tapping into his Ghost King abilities he seemed to have awoken the spirit of the castle and the damn thing wasn't leaving him alone. It wasn't sentient, it didn't try and talk to him or anything like that. But it did keep a certain awareness of him and had been trying to direct him to the source of the corruption that had been tainting the school for the past forty-odd years or so. This meant that he could no longer ignore the feeling of rot and wrongness that was emanating from the seventh floor and he worried that the Presence of the school might inadvertently tip Voldemort off that there was someone interested in his soul fragment in the Room of Hidden things. So he decided to act now, the day before end of the Christmas Holidays when most of the school was still empty.

Alex called up Lapis and Alice via his P-comm. "Are you two ready?"

Alice's image nodded back with an excited grin on her face while Lapis was much more stoic but for the small smirk betraying her excitement.

"Alright then, start operation 'Dragon Distraction.'" Alex gave the plan the go ahead.

A couple of kilometers away, just on the outskirts of Hogsmeade, multiple clones of Alice and Lapis took to the air above the village followed by a dozen specially made floating crystals. In a blink they had changed forms; one Alice becoming a stunning Antipodean Opaleye dragon and one Lapis a silvery blue Swedish Short-Snout. The other clones also shifted forms, some into phoenixes others into unicorns that ran on the air with hooves of silver flame. Using a combination of Gem-shifting and metamorphmagus even more of the clones become large, mundane animals that glowed in a multitude of colours. All together they would be eye-catching and awe-inspiring but with their access to the multiple perks and powers of the Jumpchain they were able to push the spectacle to new heights.

The already large dragons increased in size by a factor of ten, becoming unto a regular dragon what a mountain giant is to a man. Their rapid increase in size would have rendered their magical flight ineffective if not for their own abilities at holding themselves aloft with their Chronicle based telekinesis. Even with the distance between them, the entire castle shook with the magnificent roar that the two dragons released into the night.

Alex flicked live Spectre feeds into existence around him. Dumbledore had just been rudely awoken by the thunderous roar of the dragons, as had the rest of the staff. Footage from the village showed windows suddenly lighting up with spell-light as the residents awoke and already the late-night patrons from the Hogs Head and the Three Broomsticks were spilling out into the street to see what had caused the noise.

Glancing over at Lyn, Alex could see she was smiling broadly as she watched a feed of the two dragons in the air.

Lapis was using her Gem powers to pull water vapour together and was leaving a trail of thickening clouds in her wake while Alice was pulling on her phoenix abilities to spread silvery flames with every flap of her draconic wings.

The dozen floating crystals spread out on predetermined paths each one projecting lights and holograms against the thickening cloud cover. Speakers opened up on the sides of the crystals and the very air reverberated with a "WHOAAOoh!" and the thump of stomping feet.

"C'mon, we gotta go." Alex put the diadem into a preprepared lead-lined box and left the Room of Hidden Things.

They made their way, invisibly, towards the third floor. Alex stifled a laugh as they passed Dumbledore running down the hall with his robes hoisted for speed and flashing a egregious amount of skinny ankle.

⦖⋄⦕

Severus Snape woke as the castle shook from some sort of tremendous roar that knocked dust from the ceiling of his dungeon quarters, a result of his insistence that the elves not enter or clean his personal quarters.

Given the recent incident of the troll, he took no chances in quickly snatching up his wand and pulling on his robes and boots which proved a boon as a phoenix patronus swept into the dark room, illuminating the bed and bookshelves in dim silver light.

"Severus, meet me in the Entrance Hall. Something is happening at Hogsmeade. Be ready."

Severus rolled his eyes at the fading bird which had ruined his night vision and cast a quick lumos to light the way as he left his quarters. He continued to fix he robes into a more presentable position as he strode down the hallway, his steps sure and measured. He paused only at the empty stretch of wall that was the entrance to the Slytherin dorms to cast a detection ward. No one would enter or leave the commons without him knowing, at least for the next few hours.

There were only nine of his snakes that had decided to remain in the castle over the holidays. The most of any of the houses. Two were NEWT students making the best of the near unfettered access to the school's library while the other seven were from homes which made his own abusive childhood look tame in comparison. Bar the occasional family situation where a child's parents where actually busy with business, the students who remained in the castle during the holidays generally fell into those two groups. Older students committing their all to their studies or students who came from troubled homes. He consciously avoided thinking about why Potter's spawn might have remained at school.

He met with the headmaster in the entrance hall along with the other heads of house.

"There has been a disturbance at Hogsmeade, I'm sure you all felt the roar." Dumbledore started as the castle shook again under the bestial sound of a dragon's roar, further emphasising his point. "Two dragons appear to fighting in the sky above the village. Filius, Severus, you are with me as we go to lend aid and contain any damage. Pomona, please see to the students that remain, they were likely roused much as we were. Minerva, you have the castle."

This was the stern and decisive Dumbledore of the last war. Barking orders as if he expected them to be followed promptly and, to be honest, they were.

"Two dragons? Here? How in Merlin's name did they escape from the reserves?" Pomona voiced her disbelief even as she sent off Patronus' of her own to each of the commons.

"I do not know," Dumbledore admitted. "But the last time two dragons battled over a populated area the whole settlement was reduced to ashes. We must be off to give assistance."

With those words he pushed open the doors of the school and swept into the grounds with a twirl of obtusely coloured robes. Severus and Filius were quick to follow on his heels.

Severus calmed himself as they jogged to the school gates and the ward line past which they could apparate. Even now in the distance he could see the sky above the village curiously illuminated with a multitude of colour. But additionally, he could also hear a repeated sound of… shouting? Singing? And thunder?

They reached the ward line and took no pause as they each twisted on the spot with their magic cocooning around them and apparating towards the village with a whipcrack only to arrive to pandemonium.

Severus Snape could only gawk up at the sky as two absolutely enormous Dragons circled the small town. The clouds were shifting between them in shades of purple, pink, blue and green while large glowing animals and magical creatures dove in and out of the clouds in choreographed patterns. But the weirdest thing of all was that the entire sky thrummed with music as a choir of voices called out.

""WHOAAOoh!""

"What madness is this?" Snape bit out.

Dumbledore eyes never left the sceptical of the sky's as he answered. "I… do not know."

""WHOAAOoh!""

Snape glanced around at the other inhabitants of the town who were standing in the street, eyes up and mouths agape. He was about to question Dumbledore more when one of the dragons broke off from its circling to disappear into the clouds only to burst through the centre of the sceptical a second later as the music shifted as the blue dragon, for the first time in living memory, sang.

"Ladies and gents, this is the moment you've waited for.,"

""WHOAAOoh!"" The glowing animals in the sky chorused,

The great beast seemed to land on a giant stone spire that coalesced from starlight in the town centre.

"Been searching in the dark, your sweat soakin' through the floor."

""WHOAAOoh!""

The dragon twisted it's head to stare down at the population of witches and wizards staring up at it in awe.

"And buried in your bones there's an ache that you can't ignore. Takin' your breath, stealing your mind, and all that was real is left behind."

The music shifted its beat as the glowing menagerie started marching in a spiral down towards the village.

"Don't fight it, it's coming for you, runnin' at ya, It's only this moment, don't care what comes after. Your fever dream, can't you see it gettin' closer? Just surrender 'cause you feel the feeling takin' over."

The dragon emphasised each line with a flick of its wing or a rumble of blue flame from its maw as the marching creatures closed in ever closer and the second dragon hovered in the sky in the very centre of the enclosing circle.

"It's fire, it's freedom, it's floodin' open (oh). It's a preacher in the pulpit and your blind devotion (oh). There's something breaking at the brick of every wall, it's holding. All that you know (oh)."

At the word 'fire' the silver dragon filled the sky with flame. The next line had the phoenixes flaming around the town in bursts of spiritual uplifting light and song. The unicorns stomped onto the street with each hoof causing the very walls to shake. Then they all paused to watch the singing dragon and the townsfolk could only stare in turn, for some reason completely unable to act or look away.

"So tell me, do you wanna go?"

Even Severus found himself entrapped by the question.

Everything moved at once as beams of coloured light strobed through the clouds and the entire assortment of mythical creatures began to dance.

"Where it's covered in all the coloured lights, where the runaways are runnin' the night. Impossible comes true, it's takin' over you,"

Then the entire collection joined the verse with a cacophony of voices

""This is the Greates Show!""

So enraptured by the spectacle, Dumbledore didn't even feel when the alarm wards set the third floor triggered in the back of his mind.

⦖⋄⦕

"How sure are you that the distraction is going to work?" Lyn asked as they set up in the mirror room.

It had not been hard to slip past all the defences that were in place. Alex had left a small crystal marble that played a soft lullaby in the first room for Fluffy. Then they had then simply ghosted through the trapdoor and past the devil's snare then again ghosting through the locked door of Flitwick's room, completely ignoring the flying keys. Again, invisible and intangible, they had flown over the chess set McGonagall had set up and through the door beyond. The troll in the next room hadn't even noticed their presence as they passed and in the room of Snape's potions, even though the flames at the doorways detected them and ignited, they had been able to easily glide through them on their innate magical resistances and their inner phoenix affinity to fire.

It was only that the entire gauntlet of challenges was contained with an expanded wizard space that had prevented them from simply ghosting through the walls directly to the last room. But within the space the interior walls had held no obstacle.

"Pretty certain," Alex said as he created thirteen empty picture frames and set them around the Mirror of Erised like a sad thunderdome. "The perks Fascinating to Watch and The Greatest Bear Actor in the World from the bear jump should be enough to keep everyone's attention for a while."

"And we're sure that Two-face will show?" Lyn asked as Alex floated around the empty frames and wrote runes in blood on their edges that triggered their shared Necromancy perk and made her shiver at the sheer malevolence the markings contained.

"Not at all." Alec admitted. "He might not even notice us; in which case we clean up and hold the confrontation at the end of the year as planned. But I would be surprised if he doesn't notice."

Alex inspected his work then washed his hands of blood with conjured water which he then vanished. "Ok, go hide yourself in the corner, if I need help then you know what to do."

Lyn nodded and flew into the corner becoming invisible and intangible while also using shadow magic to hide her magical presence.

Alex held up the diadem and braced himself. His hand became ghostly and wrapped in silvery-black flame and he reached towards the circlet and then into the horcrux itself. He grunted in pain as it felt as if he had just plunged his arm into bucket full of ice. The bitter cold seeming to both freeze and burn at the same time. For the first time, he drew on his Half-Ghost power of Exorcism to forcefully rip the soul fragment from the enchanted crown.

The vile piece of Tom Riddle's soul was pulled out like a particularly gooey piece of gum that clung desperately to the lost diadem. It screamed the whole time. Not with an actual sound but with a scream that was heard on a more spiritual level that was a thousand times more uncomfortable than nails on a chalkboard.

The diadem clattered to the stone floor. In Alex's spectral hand was a black and red worm-like thing of malice and desperation. He ignored the holographic video feed that appeared next to him. The image showing Quirrell screaming while on hands and knees in his quarters as his turban decayed from his scalp revealing a red eyed face that howled in rage.

Alex raised his free hand and spoke words in a dead language that burned his throat and caused the air around him to rapidly chill, creating a sudden wispy fog that that spread out from him in web-like tendrils. The hand not holding the grotesquely mutilated soul fragment blackened and withered, the fingers becoming skeletal claws. Necromantic spells were never pretty.

Still whispering the forgotten tongue of a people forsaken by gods and demons, Alex stretched one claw-like finger towards the horcrux and dug it into the horcrux's pseudo flesh. The whimpering thing screamed again, this time sounding more like a wailing infant than anything else. Alex could only concentrate on the spell he was holding together with Will and Word. His clawed fingers digging deeper and deeper.

Eventually Alex's fingers seemed to grasp onto something within the horcrux and he pulled out a small glowing ball of magic which he inspected momentarily before he crushed it between his fingers. The ball shattered into motes of silvery light that glittered with faint memories and images as the dust fell to the floor and dissolved into nothing. Voldemort didn't know it, but in that moment, he had just forgotten the Quadratic Formula. Alex dug his fingers back into the writing horcrux in search of better memories.

⦖⋄⦕

Voldemort was coaching the idiot professor on methods of sublimating the cleaver and subtle traps that Dumbledore had layered around the third floor. The still had yet to find the key to subverting the guardian beast that was the first challenge. It was lamentable that they simply couldn't kill the creature.

The Cerberus was more than just a deterrent for any nosey students, it also played an inspired part in the ward schemes as the creature's life was tied to a multitude of detection and protection wards. The magical beast acted as both a focus, battery and trigger to a whole array of protective enchantments. Killing the thing would not only alert the entire castle that there was someone making an attempt on the stone, it would also make the subsequent protection that much more powerful. Its death would begin a ritual of empowerment of the following protections yet so long as the creature lived then the secondary ward structures would remain dormant. Should the blasted dog die then the passage towards the stone would be that much harder to traverse. Additionally, the beast's life was tied to no less than thirteen alarm wards.

He could see the parallels the old mage was drawing. Inspired, truly. A sacrificial empowerment that played on his own preference for simply killing any obstacle in his way. He had been fooled once before by such a trap. That Evans girl was such a bright spark. Part of him really did regret having the kill the bitch; she could have been a useful and brilliant follower rivalling his most faithful Bellatrix despite her blood status. Power and brilliance were much more important than blood regardless of what his primary supporters thought. She was also a fine piece of ass. Had Voldemort still had a functioning penis he would have been delighted to have the bitch serving him. Alas, the path of immortality requires the most terrible of sacrifices.

Voldemort had the resist applauding at the sheer gall of the headmaster. To use the same play that had got him before. True, the beast's life was in no comparison to the willing sacrifice of a mother for their spawn yet it was still all the same dark blood magic. For shame, headmaster, blackening your own hands to curse me. Voldemort thought smugly.

His tutoring of the professor was interrupted by sudden, intense agony that rippled through him and, in turn, through the unfortunate professor. It sent the weaker man too his knees but only inflamed the wrath that kept the shade of Voldemort clinging to the land of the living.

Despite not being able to voice the feeling of WRONGNESS that goose bumped his soul he knew that someone had one of his FUCKING HORCRUX! His mind immediately went to the diary, the diadem and the cup yet he quickly ruled out the diary and the cup. The feeling of defilement was strong and much closer than either of those could be. In fact, he could feel the intrusion digging into him like a finger clawing into an open wound and in his mind's eye he caught a vision of a child glaring down at him in a room filled with picture frames and a large ornate mirror. Somehow, he knew the room was in the castle and he could feel the direction of the intrusion coming from the third floor… the floor with the trap and the stone.

'Gah! Quirinus! Get up! We must get to the third floor, NOW!' He had wasted no more time and urged the professor to his feet and towards the source of his defilement.

"Ah ah! Yes, Master." Quirrell panted and rose to his feet.

Not fast enough as Voldemort used pain and agony as his whip to drive Quirrell manically through the halls towards the third floor all the while whispering instruction to the terrified man.

'Someone has taken something that does NOT belong to them. We cannot delay; every moment is precious.' He studiously ignored Quirrell's thoughts on what could be pushing his master so.

'Faster! Faster!' Voldemort pressed.

Quirrell shouldered through the door and immediately cast the killing curse towards the sleeping Cerberus then a blasting curse towards the trapdoor and jumped through. Even though he knew what would happen, Voldemort urged the man forward even as the wave of magic swept through carved grooves in the stones of the tunnel, outpacing their decent.

Quirrell cast a cushioning charm at the stone below them and then had to immediately duck into a roll as he landed on the softened stone as a thorny arm slammed into the place they had just landed.

'Ignis Flagellari!' Voldemort commanded.

Following his master's instruction; Quirrell cast a flame-whip, one of Dumbledores favourite spells, and the fiery spell illuminated the golem composed of stone and thorny vine. The construct threw forward it's arm and its hand; a giant fragment of stone wrapped in thorns, flew towards the timid professor like a druid-spawned morning star flail.

'Duck, down, left, back three steps, duck right.' Voldemort urged Quirrell like he was directing a dance of violence.

Quirrell let his master's instincts guide his body to dodge the attack even knowing that the depth of possession needed would hasten his death. They would need either the stone or unicorn blood after this or Quirrell's body would not last the next three days.

'Attack!'

With a flick of his wand the flame whip flashed and severed the tether of the golem's attack before it could swing the stone at him again.

'HAHA! Splended work, you old fool.' Voldemort complemented the maker of the golem.

Quirrell cursed even as Voldemort laughed at the brilliance of the fucking headmaster. The Killing Curse didn't work on plants, there simply wasn't enough 'soul' to sever from them. It would whither the portion of the plant the spell contacted but unless you were in mortal combat with a shrub the cost of the spell didn't meet the result. This creation of plant and stone was a brilliant defence against any thug that wielded the killing curse like a club.

The golem charged at them and Quirrell had to drop the flame whip to transfigure the stones before him into a sturdy wall or risk being boxed into the corner of the room. The thorn golem slammed into the transfigured barrier and the vines flowed around the stone in an attempt to entangle the wizard behind it. Yet Quirrell used the moment of respite to cast a variant of the flame spell.

'Excellent!' Voldemort encouraged his slave. He might be snivelling coward but the man did at least have a Masters in Defence.

Dracis Fortus was not as powerful as Fiendfire but it was infinitely easier to control. The magical recreation of dragon fire burst out of the professor's wand and engulfed the empowered vine contract in a wave of blistering heat. Quirrell was sweating not just from his proximity to the flame but in controlling the output. While not the near sentient demonic flames of Fiendfire the dragon flames still attempted to spread in all direction, including his own. With a savage cry and twist of his arm Quirrell ceased the burning onslaught and paused to catch his breath.

'Through the door, the bastard keeps digging!' Voldemort mentally growled.

The stones were blackened with soot and glowed cherry-red at their edges and the vines had been reduced to ash. Still, Quirrell could see the runes in the walls glowing with power as they tried to reconstruct the golem from the likely still living roots that had sunk into the floor. He might have preferred to have taken the time to destroy the rune work and prevent the wards from recreating the room's protector but his master was insisting on haste and so he instead ran through the charred door into the next room.

And had to immediate dive to the floor as a giant metal bird swooped at him. Rolling onto his back, Quirrell cast a shield between him and the avian monstrosity. The metallic bird was composed of hundreds of large keys with metal wings that had melded together into the shape of an enormous raven.

The bird flapped its wings and spear-like keys flew from its wings and cracked against the shield. Those keys that missed the professor's glowing shield and embedded themselves deep into the stones around him.

Quirrell stagged to his feet as his master commanded that he 'hurry the fuck up'.

He's not the one dashing and diving around. Voldemort picked up the uncharitable thought and rewarded it with a spike of pain through Quirrell's brain, a reminder of who was the master and who was the slave.

The Raven was charmwork of the highest order but he would still be remiss if he didn't try the simple solution first. He commanded Quirrell to wait for a break between the raven's flapping wings then to drop the shield and cast an overpowered Finite Incantatem.

To both his and his slave's immense surprise the Raven collapsed in a shower of antique keys. He actually thought for moment that the protection was that simple before the keys shivered and divided into two then reformed into two large metallic ravens.

'Of course, it wasn't that fucking simple.' Both his and Quirrell's thoughts echoed each other. Still, he punished the man with more pain for his failure. Appearances did have to be preserved.

'Use direct damaging spells. Take it apart.' Voldemort instructed.

Quirrell cast exploding and blasting curses at the Ravens, each hit knocking off a shower of keys that after a few seconds simply flew back to the Ravens and repaired the damage.

'Charms fail when the charmed object is physically changed to a certain degree.' The dark lord instructed Quirrell. Regardless of becoming an egomaniacal Dark Lord, Voldemort did originally want to be a teacher and was finding a sort of twisted enjoyment in commanding Quirrell in his actions.

Under his master's direction Quirrell tried transfiguring the displaced keys before they could rejoin the whole and was rewarded when the keys turned to water and splashed inert to the ground.

Charms were a category of spells that affected the properties of an object. Basic charms could affect a singular property such as an object's appearance, weight, temperature, taste, size or position. Such as changing the colour of an apple blue or making it taste like an orange. Despite those changes, the apple remains and apple which is different from transfiguring an apple into an orange at a metaphysical level. As charms advanced the properties that could be affected become more esoteric; such as making an apple dance by changing the animativity — how animate or inanimate a thing is — of an object or changing the universal perception of an object such as with the Fidelius charm.

This meant that charms, all charms, had one fundamental weakness in their composition. If you change the object that has been charmed then you render the charm ineffective. A blue apple transfigured into an orange does not become a blue orange and a smashed apple does not dance. There were measures that could be taken to prevent such changes but they were time consuming and usually involved either layers of charmwork, specific wards or runes.

In practical terms, Flitwick would have had to individually layer weeks of charm work each individual key, erect multiple conflicting wards or engrave runes on each key and hope they didn't interfere with the greater spells animating the entire raven construct. Instead, Flitwick used a more time and energy conservative option of utilising a singular ward in conjunction to a protective rune scheme to protect the greater raven construct while sacrificing the protections of the individual component keys.

What followed was a battle of attrition as Quirrell blasted pieced off each Raven and then quickly transfigured the keys into water. The complete change in form and state of matter being best at breaking the charms on the individual keys.

Ten minutes later, an eternity when casting spells, one Raven was down enough keys to collapse in on itself and the other was damaged enough to reveal a large bronze key at its centre that shone with runes and magic. Eventually a huffing and puffing Quirrell was able to separate the bronze key from the Raven which caused it to finally collapse.

'Keep going!' Voldemort urged his slave onwards. Each moment that passed he could feel that he was losing something, though he knew not what.

Taking up the key Quirrell opened the door to the next room. Beyond was a large chess set taking up most of the room. As the twined pair entered the stone figures all turned towards them and raised their weapons.

'Fuck this!' Voldemort devolved into muggle cursing.

"Fiendfire?" Quirrell asked.

"Fiendfire." The face on the back of Quirrell's head agreed. Speaking out loud for the first time tonight.

The room was engulfed in green demonic fire.

⦖⋄⦕

Alex was getting bored.

So far, he had only found three memories of interest. One of Riddle's memories of a stash of enchanted items. A memory of the rune work involved in the creation of the Dark Mark and a memory of a forbidden ritual Riddle performed that would give the recipient an enhanced sensitivity to magic in exchange for the sacrifice of a muggle child. He wasn't going to actually perform the ritual but he might discover something by examining it. Those memories were kept in prepared glass vials of later examination and secreted away into one of his pockets.

Yet in the time it had taken to find those three memories, he had found forty-seven others which after a quick examination for anything of interest had then been crushed and let slip to the aether. Most of these crushed memories were useless trash such as a dinner meeting between Voldemort and his followers where they discussed long forgotten muggle raids or nights of brooding angst as a younger Voldemort plotted his superiority in darkened rooms. But a few gems such as how to use a can opener or the memory of Riddle learning the toe-nail clipping charm at least gave Alex a moment of mirth.

Why? Because any memory removed from the Horcrux affect the entirety of Voldemort's soul. If he had more time to practice, Alex thought he might even work out how to completely obliviate the Dark Lord's mind. Maybe on the next Horcrux, he still did have the one in his scar.

Still, he wasn't finding enough to make his efforts worthwhile. Practice would make the procedure of extracting memories and knowledge from a horcrux quicker and easier but a quick glance at the floating image of Quirrellmort finishing up his confrontation with Flitwick's Ravens.

Watching Quirrellmort's journey out of the corner of his eye had been hilarious and a little humbling. He didn't know what Voldemort had done to change the various trap rooms into these much deadlier variations but was enjoying watching the dark duo make their way through them. Most of them he and Lyn would have been able to bypass with their ghost abilities.

There were few spells that could affect a spiritual being that the primary defence against such entities was their need for permission to possess anyone or enter a dwelling. A locked door as magically symbolic enough to bar access to most spirits, unless they were clever enough (or maybe just horny enough) to squeeze themselves through the pipework to sneak in. It was great that Alex and his cohort didn't have to play by those rules.

Still, Alex was impressed at the stuttering professor's moves as he ducked, dove and danced around the empowered defences. Alex's perk gifted control of fiendfire would have taken care of all the defences but only a madman would unleash such a potent destructive force within a school filled with chil… oh. They cast fiendfire.

The green flames consumed the animated chess pieces with a voraciousness that scared him and Quirrellmort was able to walk through this unholy inferno to rain fire down on the Security troll in the adjoining room. Alex had experimented with the cursed flames somewhere away from anyone and low in ambient magic, like the dark side of the moon, and even with his Magical Resistance, Heart of Gold, and Dark Lord perks working in concert, Alex had to devote all of his attention to preventing the flames from spreading. The fact that Voldemort was able to control the demonic flames through a dying host with such accuracy while in a magically charged atmosphere spoke of his incredible experience wielding such dark magics.

It was as the possessed professor extinguished the flames and strode into the potions room that Alex realised that he might have messed up in choosing the mirror room as the location for his confrontation with the Voldemort. Runes sprang to life all around the mirror room, along the walls, the ceiling and the pillars and most importantly in circles upon circles around the ornate mirror. Alex prepared himself for whatever dastardly overpowerful trap that Dumbledore had prepared in this, the final place in his trap against a powerful dark wizard.

Light played along the newly appeared runes and focused on the cursed Mirror which sent out a pulse of magic that seemed to scan the area around the mirror. Alex felt his gut drop as he recognised various runes within the complex ward scheme. The inversion rune chain and the advanced conjuration would have some unique effects in conjunction with the enchanted mirror.

If Alex was making this a trap of his own, he would take subvert the mirror's ability to reveal a person's greatest desire to create a magical copy of a person's desires that they would have to fight or perhaps a magical copy of a person's idolised self which would be much more powerful than a direct copy.

Alex felt a pressure against his mental defences and prepared himself for combat, ecto-energy playing down his form, changing his appearance and boosting his defences. He brought forth his animagus form abilities with his Sir Bearington perk; his skin becoming scaled in like a dragon, his blood boiling with the flames of a phoenix, a thunderbird's lightning playing around his temples like a crown, his eyes gleaming malevolently with a basilisk's cursed glare and his very presence radiating the un-life chill of a dementor. He summoned forth his Gem Dagger in his alt hand and wreathed it in ghostly ecto-energy and gripped tight the squirming horcrux in the other. At the same time razor sharp shards of crystal and miniature light-cannons in the form of black crystal orbs coalesced in the air around him in preparation for battle. At his feet flame and shadow writhed, agitatedly edging back and forth like eager attack dogs responding to their master's call. The very air near vibrated with the magic Alex brought up from within himself, the sparks of violet energy drawing the attention of every ghost within the entire castle.

Within the mirror, a warped figure started to appear then abruptly faded away as the magic's of the mirror failed to find purchase within Alex's mind. His Vegetative perk returning the mirrors intrusive probe with a complete absence of thought. Alex could feel the runes scheme's magic lashing out as the mirror's enchantments failed. For a moment he was worried the array would overload as the amount of magic within surged. The amount of power trapped within the runes was enough to blow out the entire third floor of the castle. Thankfully, in that moment, a receptive target stumbled through the flames that separated the room from Snape's challenge.

Quirrell appeared somewhat worse for wear. His robes were singed, his face looked mildly sunburned, the skin raw and red from the reflected heat of his own spell work.

"Remind me to Crucio, Severus once I have regained a physical form." A raspy voice hissed from the back of the professor's head. "A Sudoku potion puzzle is a sick and twisted torture to subject to anyone."

"Yes, Master." Quirrell managed to reply before he was forced to his knees as the surge of magic from the runic circle directed the Mirror's Enchantments upon him fully.

Both master and slave cried out in pain as the mirror raped their mind for their greatest desires and, through the twisted purpose of the runic trap, their greatest regrets.

Alex — and Lyn, from where she hid in the corner — could only watch as Quirrell and Voldemort's psyche was pillaged for the trap's insane purpose. Alex prepared himself for the possibility that he would have to fight both Quirrellmort and some bizarre perfect-form of the Dark Lord brought forth by the mirror's magic.

Blurred figures appeared within the tarnished glass and started walking closer, with each step they became clearer and clearer until they were revealed to be an assortment of people from Quirrell and Voldemort's past.

Alex frowned in confusion as to why these people were dredged up from Tom's soul by the cursed mirror of desire. He gripped tighter his wand and weapon as Lily and James Potter, a pair of red headed male twins, an attractive brunette woman and dozens and dozens of others that blended together behind those striding forth at the front.

The shades of Alex's parents stepped out of the mirror and into reality, followed closely by more of the shades of the dead. Quirrell was already regaining his feet to confront them, his eyes darting between the dangerous looking form of Alex and the incoming hoard of mirror-born shades.

"You didn't need to kill us, you know." The shade of James Potter spoke. It never even glanced at Alex, it's eyes solely on the possessed professor. "You still have time to repent for your sins."

Lily then spoke. She too never even noticed the presence of her son. "The prophecy didn't need to define your actions. We can forgive you for killing us, if only you truly regret your action. It's not too late to find salvation, Tom."

Quirrell remained on guard but his face was a rictus of scepticism and from the back of his head came a wheezing laugh. "Ha, HA, HAHAHAHAHA! This is the fool's attempt to stop me? Me?! The greatest Dark Lord to have ever lived?"

Alex's mind stuttered to a halt. This wasn't a trap; this was a fucking intervention. That sanctimonious, old, fucking windbag! Alex groused, his temper flaring within. Dumbledore was still trying to redeem Tom Riddle, still trying to save the psychopathic murderer! This, his penultimate challenge, was not an epic battle of wills and magic but an attempt to fucking guilt trip the dark lord into repenting. Dumbledore kept trying to save the irredeemable at the cost of the innocent and the action infuriated Alex on a deep and fundamental level. He reacted in the only reasonable way one could: violently.

An intense blast of magic, power and flame surged from Alex as he let his magic and power run wild within the room. The sheer force unleashed caused the shades to flicker and waiver as the runes struggled to hold the spell together.

Quirrell raised his wand in a quick and practiced movement having never let down his guard in the presence of the powerful stranger. Yet this action proved completely fruitless as Alex twisted his head to glare at the man and let his inner basilisk shine through his eyes.

Quirrell was dead before he even knew it. His sudden demise forced the shade of Voldemort from his collapsing form. It twisted in the air above the professor's corpse as malignant black smoke with glowing embers for eyes.

"WHAT HAVE YOU DONE?!" The black smoke face of Tom Riddle shouted. There was surprise, incredulity and a small amount of fear in that spectral voice.

Alex didn't even dignify the creature with an answer. He simply held forth the hand that held Voldemort's squirming horcrux and channelled necromantic magic.

""ARRRRRRGGGGGHHH!"" the twin screams of both the horcrux and the main spirit writhed in agony. The shade of Voldemort curling and twisting in on itself, unable to speak, unable to flee and unable to even think through the pain.

This was Lyn's cue to act.

As Alex slowly destroyed the horcrux; Lyn took advantage of Voldemort's inability to move by snatching one of the floating picture frames from the air and tossing it into the swirling maelstrom of black smoke that was the Dark Lord. Alex let the Horcrux die in his hand and channelled his Ghost King magic through the blood runes on the back of the frame. The picture frame burst alight with a swirling violet glow and sucked in the traumatised wraith of Voldemort like dirt dishwater being sucked down the drain.

"WHAT ARE YOU DOING!?" Voldemort was able to see passed the pain from the destruction of his horcrux for one moment of surprised exclamation. Yet the last syllables of his question were stretched into a comedically long note as if he was falling a long distance as he was sucked into the magical portrait.

In seconds all that was left of the wraith was a floating portrait, the entire surface a slick black except for two glowing red eyes that stared fearfully and hatefully out from the painting.

Around Alex; the shades from the mirror, that had through all of that never ceased in trying to convince the psychopathic Dark Lord to repent his past, faded as their connection with Voldemort was severed.

⦖⋄⦕

In the sole wizarding village of Hogsmeade, hundreds of witches had wizards had congregated. Once the residence had become aware that the dragons in the sky were not about to set the entire village ablaze and were instead some sort of spontaneous entertainment many had reached out to their friends and family who lived elsewhere either by patronus or the floo.

Within minutes, dozens of families had made their way to the sleepy village along with ministry officials, journalists from the Daily Prophet and, hidden in the shadows, the cowled figures of the Unspeakable.

Above them, in the sky, the dragons had performed a number of songs and acts. There had been touching ballads and triumphant orchestral pieces. Though many wondered why the broomsticks had been carrying water. It would be easier to just conjure it. Severus had seemed to like the slow story-like song about some sort of piano man.

At the moment though, Dumbledore was nodding his head to a particularly catchy song and he absolutely adored the visuals that were accompanying it. The entire sky was lit with shades of pink and orange and dragons clad themselves in crystal armour and had somehow grown outrageous and colourful hair designs. The unicorns had grown wings ran through the stars on rainbow bridges. The phoenixes had merged together into one large golden bird that cawed stoically like an eagle.

"The night begins to shine." Dumbledore sang along with the dreamlike vision. "The night begins to shine."

Eventual through, the performance had to come to an end. Dumbledore applauded along with the other spectators as the spectacular magical performance above the village of Hogsmeade drew to a close. The dragons, and he still didn't know how whoever had set this up had created such realistic illusions, took to the air with the multitude of magical and mundane animals and appeared to leave through a burning portal in the sky. Truly, a spectacular trick.

Perhaps they used mirrors somehow, much like muggle magicians? Dumbledore pondered to himself. The thought on mirrors triggered his mind to finally take notice of his connection to the wards and the alarm that was currently blaring in the back of his head.

"Severus! We must away to the school!" He cried out, startling the crowd of witches and wizards around him who were happily discussing the fantastical display that had just occurred.

Dumbledore immediately apparated back to the wardline that surrounded the school with his potion's professor hot on his heels.

By the time he had reached the third floor, disabled the ward enhanced protections — Alas, poor Fluffy, we hardly knew ye — and reached the mirror room, there was no one there. Only the corpse of his Defence Professor, the shattered remains of the Mirror of Erised and the lingering stench of powerful dark magic greeted the headmaster's arrival. Most disturbing of all; the Stone glittered in shattered fragments within the mirror glass like drops of blood.

Albus Dumbledore let out a long and tired sigh. What on earth happened here, he didn't know. But now there was no returned Voldemort for him to defeat and there was no Stone for him to extend his own lifespan with.

"It must have been Potter." Severus sneered from behind the old man.

Dumbledore just shook his head. Severus blamed the boy for everything but not even the son of James Potter could have made such a mess of things.

He retreated back to his quarters after clearing up the room and sending the body of Quirrell of the hospital wing. He would have to contact the board of governors about the need of a new Defence professor in the morning. On his slow trek back to his office, he found himself humming to himself.

"The night begins to shine."