Chapter Eight: The Lost Diadem

The dark mark overhead started to fade, in the distance Harry could hear several people arguing feverishly. He searched the ground where Weasley had been, there it was—he picked up a silvery cloak off the ground and immediately started folding it.

"My lord, we can send out a search party—" Crouch said, his voice quaking as he tried to stay calm.

"They were already here, Crouch," the Dark Lord's voice was quiet, seeped with anger.

"I only meant to—"

It was too late, Crouch was thrown flat on his back from the power of the spell. He writhed on the ground, yelling out in pain. Then it stopped, Crouch breathed heavily, staggering as he pushed himself back up. Far beyond, Bella touched back down from her broom.

"Does it pleasure you to be less than useless." The Dark Lord said, it was not a question, and Crouch knew that.

"No."

"Good," the Dark Lord's anger was waning, it was best to time things out. He'd learned at a very young age the best ways to avoid it. But still, it was probably best to not push things on such a long night, Harry waited a moment for the two of them to leave before stepping back into the clearing, before he realized he'd miscalculated. They'd left, but Bella didn't go with them. She pulled him into a bone-breaking hug. Several passing seventh year students snickered and Harry felt his face burn red.

"Did you miss me, sweetie?" She asked in a sing-song voice. He didn't know why she insisted on babying him still, it seemed to get worse after Delphi—no, he didn't need to think about that. The dementors were still close enough for her screams to echo in his head.

"Of course I did, Bella," Harry lied through his teeth, unreciprocal. Bella squeeze tighter before letting go.

"What's this?" She asked, taking the invisibility cloak out from his hands. She unfolded it, taking a careful look at the fabric before frowning. "Your disillusionment charms are fantastic, you don't need one of these old things."

"I wanted to look closer at how they work," he said quickly. Bella raised an eyebrow, looking over to make sure his father and Crouch were still locked in an argument further in the clearing. She pulled out her wand and waved it over the cloak, neatly folding it into the size of a handkerchief.

"Souvenirs aren't a bad thing," she winked. She turned to face the Dark Lord, her body rigid in a salute. "Sir, I advise that we regroup at the castle, I can send out several troops to search the forest again."

"Thank you, Bella," The Dark Lord's eyes flashed dangerously to Crouch again. The second man flinched, very aware of how much risk his position was in. "We'll debrief in an hour, walk with me, Harry, there's something I want to show you."

Harry fell in step beside him, unsure of what was coming next. They walked in silence for a couple of minutes, past several of the carriages holding the dementors. The creatures shrank away from the doors, swirling indecisively. He tried to keep his face neutral, maybe, just maybe, they wouldn't talk at all. He could move on and pretend none of this ever happened.

"I know you're upset about how things went tonight," the Dark Lord said quietly. Just once Harry wished they could have a conversation without him using the empathy link.

"I failed you," Harry said, wondering if that was the correct answer. "I only killed one of them." The Dark Lord nodded in contemplation.

"True, but in the grand scheme of things that was inconsequential to your task." He looked down and Harry felt relief wash over him. He chose correctly. "The Order of the Phoenix has an uncanny ability to survive near catastrophe, many older wizards have tried and failed to finally stamp them out, and they certainly had less personal reasons …" The walked in silence for a moment. "I did not expect you to kill James tonight, I just wanted to know if you would try."

"Oh," they were approaching the castle now. Inside were about seventy Death Eaters, gathering prisoners, and throwing the dead into piles. From the outside of the courtyard, Granger glared daggers at him.

"You have done exceptionally well tonight," he continued, "I'd almost given up hope on entering Hogwarts again. I'd actually applied once to be a professor here, before I joined the ministry. In many ways, this castle was the first place I could call home. It is a disservice that you have to see it in such as state. But it can be restored, and I know this castle better than any of its previous students …"

The Dark Lord smiled as he stopped in front of a blank wall near the Transfiguration classroom. Harry frowned, waiting for something to happen. Suddenly, a click sounded and the wall popped open to reveal a door. The Dark Lord opened it, and the door shut behind the two of them. Harry wasn't sure what he expected, but a massive room stacked floor to ceiling with antiques wasn't one of them.

"This was a magnificent discovery in my sixth year," the Dark Lord said excitedly, weaving in between the piles of junk like he'd been there a hundred times before. "The chamber can manifest whatever the user desires, for example a place to hide something of the upmost importance. After my interview, I snuck into the chamber to hide one of my most prized possessions. I'd rediscovered the diadem of Rowena Ravenclaw in a forest in Albania, created the fifth split to my soul and …" He paused in front of an ugly old mannequin head.

"It should have been here." The Dark Lord's voice grew cold. Harry also looked around, but there was nothing resembling the crown. He could feel the anger overflowing like a cup of wine, spilling over into his own head. There—on the far side of the wall was a portrait swung back on hinges like a door, revealing a passageway that spiraled far beyond the walls of the castle.

Regulus Black dismounted from his carriage, walking with a purpose that others could scarcely dream of that night. It felt odd, to be back at Hogwarts, he could almost hear Sirius and his friends snickering through the halls, already in their next escapade. But that time had long since passed. Now he saw several prisoners lined up against the wall, awaiting transport to deliver them to their fates. His cousin Nymphadora stood with her arms folded, keeping her wand trained on a young girl.

"Evening, Dora," he said, and his cousin met him with a scowl.

"Wotcher, Regulus. Awfully cheery, aren't you?" She looked around to make sure the other guards weren't listening. "Given the state of things and all." She looked down at the girl, her face puffy like she'd been crying.

"Oh, its been better than I could imagine." Regulus said louder. "Who's this young lady? I didn't know Bella was putting her aurors on guard duty."

"She don't," Dora looked down at the girl. "This one managed to take down three people on her own, they're putting her in training even though she's mudblood. I don't—what's your name love?"

The girl muttered something, barely audible to either Dora or Regulus.

"Hermione's a very pretty name." Regulus bent down so he was eye level with the girl, this didn't seem to help matters. "You're in good hands here with Dora, I promise." He stood back up to full height, Dora managed a small smile.

"Had one for you too earlier," she said, "but he managed to get out."

"Hm, that's unfortunate," Regulus lied, aware of the others around them. If they were sending him people in the Department of Mysteries it could only be for one purpose. The mark on the inside of his left arm burned. "I've got to go, but it was good to see you."

Dora grunted, he couldn't tell if it was in agreement or disgust. Regulus followed the mark into the old defense against the dark arts classroom. Inside was a large table set up, with eleven people already seated. An unconscious old man hung by his ankle over the table, suspended from the dragon skeleton they used in class.

At the very end of the table was McNair from muggle services, Regulus avoided him as much as humanly possible. The others were also merchants in death, but none of them quite managed to get the same factory level efficiency as he had. Snape's chair was empty so they wouldn't have fourteen, he must not have been able to get away from the school earlier. Yaxley from Public Services, Nott from Magical Transportation, and then there was Bella's husband, Rudolphus, they shared the law enforcement department together, with her focusing on aurors and him in the courts. Although Regulus noticed she was seated significantly closer to the head of the table than normal. Crouch from the Minister's office, who looked more haggard than usual. Then there was the Riddle boy, Regulus had only met him a couple of times, but recently learned he'd been selected to infiltrate the school. He seemed to be openly avoiding looking up at the figure hanging from the ceiling. There was a second open seat next to the boy, Regulus must've beat Nagini to the meeting.

And last but not least was Tom Riddle himself. He twirled his wand absentmindedly in his hands, a streak of blood that was not his own staining his cheek. He looked up at the figure on the ceiling with a sense of disgust. Riddle's eyes flickered momentarily down to Regulus, as he sat down in between Bellatrix and Snape's empty chair.

"Crouch, earlier tonight you assured me you had your best people positioned for this attack," Riddle began, clear that he had no intention of waiting for his own daughter to arrive. "I wonder if you stand by that statement still."

"Of course, my lord," Crouch looked around confused to the other members of the table, trying to puff up his chest to project an air of confidence. "There's no higher honor than to serve you."

"No higher honor," Riddle repeated slowly, not taking his eyes off the figure above. "That means a lot, coming from you." Crouch seemed inflated, allowing himself a small smile. "Then that must be devastating to learn that you're less competent than a fifteen-year-old, isn't it Bartemius?"

"I don't know what you mean, sir," Crouch looked like he'd just seen his entire family murdered right in front of him. Several members of the table snickered under their breath. It was a heavy task, to work directly under the Dark Lord himself, Regulus did not envy Crouch's position.

"You don't?" Riddle continued. Beside him, his son had gone deathly pale, like he wished for nothing more than to blend in with his chair. "How interesting, because as I recall Harry managed to get the barrier down and you inside, you refused to kill our enemies when they were right in front of you. But you were happy to waste time in the astronomy tower tormenting Frank Longbottom before returning." Bellatrix let out an unintentional laugh.

"I don't really know what you find so amusing, Bella," Riddle snapped, fixing his gaze on her. "I admit, I'd underestimated Potter and his compatriots, but I recently learned fifty people escaped from right under your nose in the castle."

Bella's mouth went slack, this was news to her too.

"My search parties also believe that Potter and Blacks did take the train to escape," she offered, trying to save her own skin. "We can head them off at London station—"

"I've already taken care of our first problem," Riddle said, as the door to the room opened. Nagini was tall, imposing like her father. In the very few times Regulus had seen all three together, he couldn't help but feel his own family's dynamics at play, but turned up a hundred times worse. Nagini held her helmet in hand, her dark black hair tied into a plait. Her yellow eyes flickered to the figure above the table, as if for a moment in hunger …

"For those of you who don't recognize our guest," Riddle flicked his wand and the figure crashed down onto the table with a muffled yell. "We are joined tonight by Aberforth Dumbledore, recent proprietor of the Hog's Head Bar." Several of the Death Eaters hissed insults at the mention of the name Dumbledore. "When I discovered the tunnel connecting Hogwarts and his establishment, I also noticed a number of magical artifacts missing, including a handsome bronze diadem worn by Rowena Ravenclaw herself." He turned his gaze to the watching number of his most faithful followers and family members. Neither of his children dared to move.

"Consider this an open hunting season on the remaining members of the Order of the Phoenix, bring me their heads and the diadem and there's ten thousand galleons in it for you." There was a flash of green light and Aberforth Dumbledore moved no more. There were murmurs of excitement from some of the others at the table. "Good luck."