Chapter 50: The Ring Of Truth

Friday, 21st July 1995.

Hermione felt uneasy as she fought to regain her feet.

Not only was she contending with the sensation of pulling out of a foreign memory, but she could feel the anger and disgust churning through Harry by her side. He wasted no time steadying himself but walked immediately away from the large stone bowl in the centre of the room.

She followed Harry towards the wall as soon as she was sure of her footing again. As she approached, she could feel him struggling with the emotions inside. Working to push the negative ones aside and focus on the positives. They now knew for certain that Riddle would have tried for seven pieces. They knew for certain how many they were looking for.

That was a good thing.

She softly ran her fingers up Harry's back and over his shoulder, feeling his body shiver happily and lean into her touch. As if her very presence helped to wash him of the filth they had just endured.

The filth of watching Riddle in action. Seeing Riddle so deftly manipulate the man within. Buttering him up with gifts. Stroking the man's ego at every moment. Cautiously guiding the conversation along safe paths so that he might ferret out what he needed. Before being direct only in the moments that required it, so as not to overplay his hand.

Slughorn had fallen for the act hook, line and sinker. Giving up information even when he didn't think he was. Filling in the holes in Riddle's understanding of such disturbing magic. Setting him finally onto the path that the then-teenager had chosen to chase for immortality. A path that would see countless people suffer and die.

Hermione felt ill just recalling it all. She tried to focus on Harry. On calming his anger and unease.

"Albus!" Bones called suddenly, shaking Hermione's focus and causing both her and Harry to turn and see the stern woman staring at the old man as if she were waiting for the answer to a question.

Dumbledore was looking at her as well, though he appeared as if she had broken him out of some kind of daze. His mind seemed to be far away.

"I'm fine." He finally replied, the mask coming back over his face as he straightened up and turned back towards the pensieve in the middle of the Ministry's secure viewing room, a sense of longing still in his eyes.

It wasn't cheap to rent the space when one needed to view a memory. The alternative was trusting the entire process to Dumbledore, who had his own personal pensieve. But they had known this viewing would affect Harry. And keeping the number of upsetting things to a minimum was worth it today.

Sirius had been hesitant to pay at first, not wanting to benefit the same folks who had held him captive without trial for years. Harry had been fine with that decision, more than happy to cover the costs himself. But Sirius was stubborn when it came to providing things Harry needed. In the end, he had done so. Though he had refused to actually view the memory. Claiming he had enough bad memories of Slughorn already.

He was waiting outside with Remus and the half-dozen vetted Aurors. Keeping the room secured from any who might wonder why Cornelius Fudge, Amelia Bones, Albus Dumbledore and Harry Potter would be using such a space. Ensuring that the memory they now possessed did not leak to Riddle and his spies.

Hermione's eyes flicked to the Minister who seemed just as uneasy after the viewing as the rest of them. Which was not terribly surprising. The subject matter discussed was not something one ever expected to encounter. A brutal magic that violated the very nature of existence. But they had hoped it would also help to humanize the enemy in the Minister's eyes. Showing the truth that he was once just a student at Hogwarts like the rest of them.

Even if he was already a monster by then.

Hermione wondered if what they were witnessing was the talents of a true psychopath, in the medical sense. Though the term had fallen out of favour recently, being replaced with antisocial personality disorder. Which some would argue very definitely described Riddle. However, in this case, she felt the original term was more appropriate.

None of Riddle's actions in that memory had felt natural. It was as if he had learned how to behave like a human from watching others, and figured out how to weaponize those traits. The result, watching from the outside, was a slimy feeling of discomfort. Watching as he masterfully manipulated others was foul.

"Right, I get that that was unpleasant, but we should discuss it." Bones said, seemingly able to brush off the feeling easier than the rest of them.

Hermione assumed that was due to experience. She dealt with discomforting and slimy things every day.

"He's been planning all of this since he was in school…" The Minister said with disbelief. The man was spinning his bowler hat in his hands and it was picking up speed. As if he was channelling the slime out of his body and into the motion. Cleansing himself by turning emotional distress into kinetic energy.

"Tom was already cruel when I first met him as a child," Dumbledore added, seeming to come out of his own stupor. "Hurting the other residents of the orphanage. Stealing their things. Collecting trophies…"

He trailed off once again and Hermione wondered just what he had seen in the memory that had him so distracted. However, her attention did not remain on Dumbledore for long as Harry finally seemed to wash off the last of his discomfort.

"We know he made the Diary and the Diadem." He said, turning to face the others and taking Hermione's hand tightly in his own. "You're sure that the snake was one as well. And I think…" He paused and Hermione squeezed his hand in support. She had done the math and came to the same conclusion that Harry had. "We can assume the broken chunk of him that was inside of me was intended to be one as well."

The adults all looked at Harry stunned that he had said such a thing outright. Hermione had felt Harry's disgust though. She had been able to know exactly what he had figured out the moment it had come together in his mind and had been trying to soothe him ever since.

"I concur," Dumbledore said softly. "I believe that you would have been meant to be the last. Riddle would have been unable to resist using the death of his prophesied enemy as the final piece in his plan for immortality. However, Nagini was too fresh for that. He made her after his defeat."

"You're certain of that?" Bones asked.

"Magic leaves certain traces if one knows what to look for. I couldn't tell you the exact date he carried out the ritual. But yes, I am certain that the residue shows Nagini was not a Horcrux for long."

Hermione noted that Dumbledore was no longer using the term anchor. There wasn't really any need. They had absolute confirmation of the form of soul anchor that Riddle had used. Seeing how Slughorn had reacted to the word had been all the information they had needed. Riddle had found one of the foulest of foul magics to use. Even by soul anchor standards, Horcruxes were evil.

"Why would he make another one if he was aiming for seven?" Fudge asked, proving that he had the ability to contribute beyond just being the Minister.

"I would assume because he thought the attempt at Godric's Hollow failed," Dumbledore said, looking at Harry once more in a way that Hermione did not appreciate.

"He thinks Nagini was the final piece." Fudge mused. "Horcrux number seven."

"Yes and no." Bones said, looking thoughtful. "He was aiming for a powerful number, but we must consider he still planned to exist. He would have wanted a seven-part soul. Meaning six Horcruxes and himself. So if he truly had no idea about the sliver in you," Bones said, looking at Harry for a moment, "then Nagini would indeed be the seventh attempt."

"Well deduced," Dumbledore said, nodding at Bones. "I concur he would have sought to make six, but ended up with seven by mistake. We can already account for four. That leaves three remaining to be identified."

Hermione noted that he avoided mentioning whether the Horcruxes they knew of had been destroyed or not. Nor what they were or who possessed them. Wise given two were kept for years under the very roof he spent all his time in.

"So now we just need to figure out what they would be and where in the world Riddle would hide them." Harry summarised. "Should be easy."

Hermione smirked at the sarcastic final remark. It meant Harry was fully past his discomfort from the viewing.

"It may be less daunting than we presently assume," Dumbledore replied. "I may have been focused on the school recently, but I did a great deal of research on Riddle during his first rise to power. I will need to check that research, but I feel confident we can figure out what he used. After all, he was something of a magpie."

"Meaning?" Bones asked.

"Tom was always obsessed with the school. Hogwarts was his escape from the orphanage. From the war ravaging London. And proof of the power that flowed in his veins. Proof, to him, of the might of his parentage. It was the place where he, a lowly born orphan, held power over the purest of purebloods. Riddle hated the muggle world for what it took from him. And fixated on that power and the place that granted it to him. Hence why he sought to work there twice after graduating, though was turned away both times."

"You assume that's why he hid the Diadem there." Hermione pondered aloud. "And why he made another that was designed to be used in the school."

"I believe that was the intent of the Diary, yes. Though what manner of mayhem it was designed to cause I cannot say. But it is more the Diadem that interests me here. An artifact thought lost for almost a millennia. Treasure hunters of every sort have scoured the land for centuries, searching for the Lost Diadem. Riddle would have needed to expend considerable effort tracking down something like that. It is no trinket."

"You think he went specifically after Founder artifacts," Harry said, staring at the man curiously.

Dumbledore nodded. 'Or objects of similar power and legend. I can't be certain of what they would be right now." The elderly man paused and Hermione detected he was keeping something from them. Something that should be obvious to her. "But I believe we may already have what we need to figure it out."

Hermione continued to watch the man as he turned to the other adults and watched for their agreement. She could feel something nagging at her here. Something about Slughorn's memory had affected the old man, beyond the general content of the conversation, but she couldn't quite place it.

"If we returned to the Little Hangleton graveyard, do you think you might be able to detect something more?" Bones asked Harry and her, knocking Hermione loose from her pondering.

"Maybe," Harry replied. "We were somewhat preoccupied during events that night. If one of them died there, it may leave traces to the others."

Bones simply nodded at him in reply.

"Sounds like we have a few leads to follow," Fudge said, and Hermione felt the man was dealing with all of this a lot better than he could have. During their last meeting, he had seemed to want to do anything but acknowledge the truth. But now, he felt committed to leading the charge to end Riddle. It was almost inspiring to see the turnaround he had made.

"I shall begin my research at once," Dumbledore said, striding over to the sealed doorway.

Hermione eyed him warily once again as Bones moved over and released the seal, allowing him to depart.

She was uncertain of what exactly her suspicions were picking up on, but she knew the cause.

"Do you mind?" She asked Madame Bones as she and the Minister moved to follow Dumbledore out of the now open doorway. "I need to watch it again."

Hermione gestured to the bowl in the middle of the room and Bones eyed her closely. The two remaining adults looked at one another before glancing back at her and nodding.

Harry squeezed her hand before he released it. "Go ahead. I can't watch it again just yet."

Hermione nodded to him before she positioned herself over the bowl. She glanced up at Bones once more. "Thank you. I shouldn't be long."

With a lurch of her stomach, Hermione dove in once more, intent on figuring out what had the Headmaster so distracted.

ϟ

Sunday, 23rd July 1995.

Andromeda wove her wand back and forth through the air.

Everyone in the library was quiet, both those physically present and those watching from their framed seats along the walls. While Harry had proven well enough to go with Sirius and Remus to collect the mysterious memory from Slughorn, he was still not cleared for wand usage.

The fact that he had been so exhausted the day after they'd returned with the tiny vial had extended his time without magic. Keeping the frantic man from apparating away from the confrontation had taken much of what recovered magic the boy had managed to bring to bear.

Yet now, he felt as strong as ever. And Andi sighed as she realized that she had to be honest. They had no medical reason to hold him here any longer.

Andi eyed his face closely as she lowered her wand. She could see the ghost of a smirk on his lips and in his eyes as he already knew what she was going to say. But he was waiting for her to say it aloud.

"Fine, yes. You're cleared. You can have this back." She said, tucking her wand back into her robes and removing the thin piece of rowan she had held hostage for the past three weeks.

The smile finally broke over his face as he softly took the wand and with a wave, it vanished to wherever it was that he and Hermione actually kept them. The entire Family knew that Harry could have taken it back at any moment he so desired. The fact that he had not done so was one of the reasons that they trusted he was ready once more.

None of them wanted the children anywhere near all of this, and yet, nothing they did seemed to keep them out of it. The Minister kept calling them in for meetings, asking their opinion on how to proceed. Dumbledore had used Harry to acquire a memory he'd sought from Slughorn for over a decade. Bones was planning multiple excursions with them.

It seemed that fate truly did exist and those sisters were determined that Harry would be part of this battle, whether they liked it or not. And where Harry went, Hermione forever stood at his side.

Andromeda glanced at the nearby muggle woman, noting that she was every bit as nervous about this news as she felt herself. Harry may not have been born of her body, but she doubted that she or Natalie could love the blasted child anymore if he had. A chance meeting in the Alley had altered all their lives. Nymphadora loved him as if he was the little brother she had occasionally begged for.

And Hermione was just as important to them all. The first person to latch themselves onto Harry, and who had done it in the most irrevocable way possible. They would be by each other's side for life.

"Probably shouldn't be so smug about it, Harry," Nymphadora said from her seat nearby.

Harry glanced at the girl and smiled cheekily. "I've been fine for days. But I stayed quiet and let you worry for me."

Hermione gave the boy a gentle prod in the ribs but didn't say anything.

"I suppose you'll be wanting to arrange that outing now?" Remus noted from the doorway.

They were all very nervous about that one. Sending the kids back to the graveyard seemed like a really bad idea. They had handled things well enough, but it was still a traumatic place for them. It was impossible to tell how they might handle such a visit.

"Hermione already did," Harry admitted, and the adults all stared at him once again.

"What?" The girl shrugged. "I knew Harry was ready. The longer we leave matters to lie, the stronger Riddle becomes. Madame Bones thinks we might learn something important."

Andromeda took a deep breath to calm her nerves. "When?" She asked, knowing that these two already had a date arranged.

"Wednesday," Harry replied. "It was the next opening that all of the parties had to be there together. Hopefully, that works for everyone. I know you will all want to tag along."

"Watch the cheek, Harry," James said from the closest painting.

"We are just worried for you," Lily added. "There is no telling what kinds of traps Riddle might have left there."

"We're not just running in blindly," Harry replied. "We'll be popping into the town itself. A secure area that Bones is already cordoning off over the weekend and then walking up to the graveyard. There will be half a dozen Aurors, and Madame Bones, and a few Unspeakables. And I'm sure as many of you as can manage to come as well."

"Just let us worry for you," Andromeda said, drawing the boy's eye back from the painting. "You're both important to us all. We do not want to see you get hurt."

"I know," Harry said, taking Andi's hand and squeezing it. "And I appreciate it. But we're just having a look around. Help them all understand what happened that night and seeing if Nagini's death left any viable traces. We're not going into battle. We'll be fine."

Andi held the boy's hand tight in her own and tried to let his assurance win out. But she had experienced too much bad to be so sure of anything anymore.

ϟ

Wednesday, 26th July 1995.

Harry meandered along with the group quietly.

Hermione, as ever, had his right hand in her grip and was happily looking around at the countryside as they moved along. Sirius seemed equally interested on Harry's left side, though his motions seemed more intent on keeping an eye out for something about to attack them. As the only adult who had the free time to join them today, he had taken it upon himself to be their guardian against any threats.

The others had wanted to attend, but they all had previous engagements that they could not get out of at such short notice. Not that Harry was worried. As he had explained the other day, they were not expecting any real excitement today. And they were hardly here alone.

In front of them strode the two mysterious Unspeakables that had come along for today's entertainment. Cloaked in dark robes covered in spells, even Harry couldn't feel who was underneath the clothing with any degree of certainty. A fact that slightly unnerved him, but he did not voice that feeling aloud.

Beyond them was Madame Bones, leading the way up the path around the Little Hangleton churchyard. She was flanked by four Aurors that she had assured them were vetted to her high standards as well. Safe to have along for the trip. She had wanted more but had not cleared enough folks for them to possibly learn about the anchors here today. And the group had collectively agreed to only use the name anchor out in public, rather than the more sinister name they now knew. Just in case they were being watched somehow.

Harry glanced over his shoulder and noted that Dumbledore was still chattering away to an old man they had passed on the way up. The man was apparently named Frank Bryce, and he had been maintaining the lawns of the large and decaying manor house that had once been home to the rich and unlikable Riddle family. Not that being unlikeable had earned them their eventual fate.

Murdered in the drawing room by their own flesh and blood.

Harry tried to shake the thoughts from his head as they approached the very place where those unlucky souls had been laid to rest. A place he had not seen in a month.

A place where he had died.

He could feel Hermione's grip on his hand tightening as they approached, moving as quietly as a group of their size could through the numerous headstones and grave markers. This, for her, was like his first return to the merfolk village. A place where he had seen something awful that he wished he could forget.

He sent her a warming sensation through their clasped hands and she turned and smiled at him. Harry knew it would help her to see his eyes alive and warm, looking back at her.

But that was when he paused in place as he felt something cold at the very edges of his now-flexing magic.

"Harry?" Hermione said, suddenly sounding distraught at his change, drawing the eyes of some of those walking with them. "What is it?"

"I'm ok… it's just…" Harry closed his eyes and let his magic swell around him, stretching further outwards from his body. He knew the others had sensed it moving over them as they all now paused and looked back at him. But the cold feeling came from further away than any of them. In fact, it did not seem to be in the graveyard at all.

"There is something, over that way," Harry said, pointing out into the wooded area far beyond the village.

"Over there, you say?" Dumbledore said, coming up behind the group once again.

Harry turned to see the man looking almost precisely in the direction he felt the coldness coming from. The aged man had a smug look in his eyes.

"I think I might know what it is you're feeling. There is a home in that direction." Dumbledore added smugly as Bones came closer.

"A home? In there?" She asked with no small amount of disbelief.

"A small shack really, belonging to a family known as the Gaunts."

Hermione tightened her grip on Harry's hand. They both knew the meaning of that. They'd learned Riddle's parentage well in their research, but it had not become clear where the magical portion of that family had lived. It seemed both sides had lived a stone's throw from one another.

"We should go," Harry said softly. "It's hard to tell at this distance, but I think it might be one of them. It is definitely covered in Riddle's magic whatever it is."

Bones looked at him and he felt the question in her gaze.

"Alright." Her eyes flicked back to Dumbledore. "You know where we're going, lead the way. Aurors, form a guard and keep watch."

The group shifted around Harry and Hermione. Dumbledore walked ahead now, leading them back out of the graveyard but up and away from the town. The Unspeakables remained at the front, right behind the old man, but Bones fell back to mirror Sirius's position on Hermione's right and the Aurors took up positions at the corners, covering them all with their now drawn wands.

It took them several long minutes of silent walking as Dumbledore led them out onto a small country lane bordered by high, tangled hedgerows. The small town behind them, they headed further along the wooded area until Dumbledore came to a stop.

"I believe…" Dumbledore said, pulling his own wand and prodding at the hedgerow to the right of the road.

The hedgerow pulled back and a small dirt path was revealed leading into the trees. A path that looked as though it had not been used in decades. Dumbledore stepped cautiously through the gap and waved his wand back and forth over the pathway.

"Interesting. Did any of your Aurors come out this far when investigating the ritual Riddle performed?" He asked, directing the question at Bones.

"No. None of them felt any need to leave the boundary of the graveyard itself. Why?"

"This path looks unused, but someone has been here in the past month. We should be wary." Dumbledore said, standing once more and lighting the tip of his wand.

It may have been a bright sunny summer day, but under the heavy trees, it was quite dark. The path itself looked as if it had been poorly built before being left to nature. It was potholed and rocky, and in the cool deep shadows of the trees, the footing was treacherous.

It took almost as long to wind their way along the path as it had taken to reach it from the graveyard. But eventually, Harry's eyes fell on a building half-hidden amongst the tangle of trunks.

He thought it a very strange place for a house, if one could even call it that at all. The trees blocked almost all access except for a crooked wooden door with something hanging on the front. Nettles and weeds grew all around it, reaching up past the dark dirty windows. As if whoever had called it home didn't care at all for the state of their yard long before they had ceased living here.

Even the roof was covered in moss and holes. The shack, in fact, the whole area, was silent. No sounds of animal life could be heard nearby. It was as if the entire home had died and was slowly leaching decay into the surrounding trees and plants.

Now, standing only metres from the house, it was clear. There was an anchor inside.

"It's in there," Harry said. The sensation was unmistakable at this distance.

"Aurors set up a perime…" Bones began.

"Don't move!" Dumbledore said commandingly, cutting her off. "There is other magic here."

Harry allowed his senses to press beyond the sickening feeling of the soul sliver in the shack and he too could feel Riddle's magic all over the sight before them. In the ground, on the trees, the walls of the shack, even the slender object hanging from the door.

"He's right. This whole place is trapped." Harry noted.

Without a word, the two cloaked figures stepped forward and drew their wands. They began to weave them back and forth through the air, complex trails of magic following in their wake. As they continued, Harry was sure he could hear soft mumbling coming from under the obscuring cloaks. It was incredible to feel the unwinding of the magic in front of them as their spells dug into the traps.

Dumbledore too was chanting away as he maneuvered his own wand back and forth and Harry could feel their magic digging through the enchantments that Riddle had left behind. Tearing it slowly to pieces and breaking it down.

"This might take a while." He said to Hermione as he could feel the progress of the new magic gradually breaking through the old.

ϟ

It took almost three hours before the Unspeakables were satisfied that the magic around the hovel had been completely neutralized.

Harry stood up from where he and Hermione had sat after the first half hour of chanting.

He could feel the throb of the magic still within the small structure, but they could deal with that. He was momentarily fascinated as he approached the door and saw the snake he had identified earlier come to life and look into his face.

~What is most important in life?~ It hissed at him and everyone but Hermione and Dumbledore seemed confused.

He looked at Hermione who seemed to be considering the possible answers to such a question.

Dumbledore, however, leaned in and whispered in Harry's ear. "Power." He said and Harry shuddered.

Harry glared at the man for a moment before he realized why the others seemed so confused. He never really knew when he was hearing parseltongue. It just sounded like normal speech to him. The phrase was a challenge and Dumbledore had given what he assumed to be the answer. But while the old man had apparently learned to understand the language, only a true Parselmouth could speak it. Not even Hermione, who through their connection had developed his understanding of the magical language, could have spoken it.

~Power.~ He said to the snake and it immediately fell lifeless against the door.

"Tom was ever so proud of that aspect of his lineage," Dumbledore noted as he pushed the door open.

They all baulked at the pervasive stench of decay that wafted out from inside. Harry immediately pulled his wand and pushed a wave of clean air through the space. He could hear the windows around the building popping open as the disgusting air contained inside was forced out by the intense pressure he was forcing through the doorway.

"That's better." He noted, stepping cautiously up to the doorway.

He could feel Riddle's magic all over the space and he was done with the fiddling around. Harry pulled his magic together, centring it inside of him. He could feel Hermione feeding him her own as well and he could feel the intensity of the unformed magic building within his body. The hair all over his form began to crackle with the static charge that had built until he pointed his wand into the shack and unleashed it all at once in a massive blast.

Dozens of surfaces cracked under the weight while every charm and enchantment inside did the same. Several of them simply whimpered out of existence, but most relinquished their hold with a violent snap. A full dozen sections of the floor and walls exploded as the potent magic shattered their hold. Cupboards shot open and spat their contents all over the small room inside and the rotten food on the table dissolved away.

"Harry." Hermione said reprovingly, though he could feel her amusement at his moment of impatience.

"What? I wasn't waiting for them to unmake it all again." He replied, shucking his thumb at the Unspeakables as he let his senses slide over everything inside the shack once more. There were only a few tiny sources of magic left inside now. They must be tied to powerfully enchanted objects rather than spells cast over existing decor. "It's clear."

He stepped inside, Hermione at his back before he paused and turned to his godfather. "Do you mind staying out here for a moment?"

Sirius stared at him for a moment, as if he wanted to argue. "Why?"

"Because I can feel this thing already, and there is a serious compulsion on it. I don't want it to adversely affect your recovery. This thing is extremely powerful." He replied, allowing a hint of reproval to help make his point. As much as he disliked doing it in the moment, Harry knew that playing on Sirius's guilt from 1981 would help his argument here. "I don't want to lose you again."

"You don't think I can handle it?" The Marauder asked, looking at him as if he knew what Harry was doing, but not pushing back as hard as he had expected either.

"I believe that you could, but I'd sooner not test it on this. Please." Harry asked, eyeing the man closely.

"Fine," Sirius said with a rugged smirk as he ruffled Harry's hair and stood by the door. "Call if you need me."

Harry smiled at his godfather and noted that Bones had sent the Aurors to set up the perimeter she had initially asked for. The Unspeakables were meandering across the area in front of the house, digging up small stones out of the ground. It would be just the four of them heading inside. Which was probably for the best. Not only was the hovel tiny, but it meant fewer people he had to keep an eye out for.

"Let's go."

Harry led them inside and headed in the direction he could feel the dark magic emanating from. Not that it would be hard to locate, given the wide open hole in the floor through which he could see the shining golden box from afar. Whatever trap had been laid above it had been destroyed by his surge of magic.

Hermione stepped around the other side of the table and headed to a small cabinet near the hole where a small sliver of almost clean magic could still be felt. But Harry kept his eyes on the box itself. He paused about a metre away from the hole and swished his wand through the air, causing the entire box to lift out of the hole and hover in the air. There was no way he was going to touch the thing directly. Not with the evil intention he could feel in the compulsion within.

It slowly rotated in front of them as the lid came open and a small ugly ring floated up out of the container. Harry's eyes flicked to Hermione, who had a small wand in her hands that was not her own, but gave him a knowing glance in return. He could feel the ring calling to him to put it on, but Harry was so disgusted by the feel of the magic all over it that he would never have succumbed to the suggestion.

Another factor keeping him from ever touching it was that it appeared that Hermione had been correct. The reason she had dived back into the memory two more times was to inspect the item Harry now had hovering in his magic's grasp. An artefact mankind had sought out for centuries. For, somewhere along the line, someone had taken the blasted Resurrection Stone and embedded it in the ugly golden band, turning the Deathly Hallow into a mere trinket.

He glanced to the right and saw Bones was eyeing the ring as well, a look of disgust on her own face as she once again came face to face with one of Riddle's anchors. Her own skill at occluding her mind was evident in her expression and kept her from giving in to the temptation as well. Thankfully she seemed ignorant of the Stone or she simply knew and was not weak enough to succumb to its temptation.

As Harry turned, he saw an ancient hand stretching forward past him and he released his magical hold on the ring, instead bringing it to bear on the body trying to muscle its way past him and grasp the ring out of the air.

"NO!" He shouted as he pushed his palm against Dumbledore's chest and pushed hard with his magic, sending the old man soaring across the room.

Dumbledore grunted loudly as he hit the far wall but the man brought up his wand and pointed it past Harry's shoulder. A firm finger-snap from his right told Harry where the man's wand vanished to before he had been able to cast whatever foolish spell he had hoped to use, but Harry was momentarily distracted once more as a feeling of completeness washed over him. Hermione had been right in her assessment of the tiny item in the memory.

Even without the Cloak present, with their souls so entwined, they had united the three once again.

"You. Stupid. Old. Bastard!" Harry growled, glaring at the old man past his still outstretched hand holding Dumbledore in place. "Of course you had it. This is why we left the Cloak at home, damn it." Harry noticed Sirius had poked his head and wand inside to see what the commotion was all about and he tried to calm himself so that he could watch out, in case the compulsion affected his godfather. "Hermione, watch the Stone please."

While she was entirely out of his view now, he could feel magic coming off of his girlfriend and assumed she was doing her best to keep an eye on both the ring and Madame Bones, who seemed stunned to silence by Harry's sudden rant. Harry rubbed his face with his free hand before he stalked across the room, glaring at Dumbledore the entire way. The old man no longer looked dangerous. He was staring past Harry, a look of naked desire and need in his eyes that left him looking pitiful.

"Hermione was right. This was what you wanted all along, wasn't it?" Harry asked, stepping between Dumbledore and the fallen ring, blocking it from the man's sight. "She knew after we watched that memory. You were fixated on something in it. You saw the ring on Riddle's finger and you were hooked all over again."

"I need it." The man pleaded, his voice soft, almost broken. "You have no idea how badly I need it."

"No one needs it!" Harry yelled. "It's a bloody curse."

"Please…"

Harry clenched his fist angrily at the fact his words weren't getting through to the old man. "That stupid bloody story. So what? You want to talk to Grindelwald again that badly?" Harry asked, glaring at the man he still had pinned to the wall.

"Gellert?" Dumbledore said, showing the first sign that he was still present of mind and not lost to the compulsion. "No, not him. I miss him, but we've nothing more to say to one another."

"Who then? Who do you want to talk to so badly that you'd die yourself to do it?" Harry asked.

Dumbledore seemed to fold in on himself. Anger, self-loathing and guilt were all over the aged man's face as he tried to look away from Harry.

"Your sister?" Harry asked and Dumbledore's eyes shot to his own.

Harry let his head sag as he finally understood. All those years living in fear of the man and he had been seeking something that Harry didn't have to give. In the vain hope of answering a century-old question. Their research on the old man had been almost as illuminating as the research on Riddle. And almost as difficult to acquire.

"Please. I need to know." Dumbledore pleaded.

"She can't tell you." Harry bit back, far less aggravated, but still frustrated beyond belief at the way things had gone. He turned away from Dumbledore and took a deep breath, trying to steady himself. "The Stone is a lie!"

"I know the story is a lie. I know that it is not made by Death, but it does work and I must know."

Harry leered back over his shoulder at Dumbledore. "It is true, you idiot."

"Please, Harry. I'm intelligent enough to know it is just a story. Cadmus was just a powerful wizard. I know that. But it works. Just like the others."

"It really doesn't. You've carried one for what? Fifty years and you still don't get that? Sure, the Wand still works as a wand. But it leaves a trail. Men will forever covet it. Killing to lay their hands upon it. But the Stone gives nothing but pain. It's a trap meant to send those who use it to their deaths. The Stone is the worst of the three, by far. They were never gifts, they were weapons to be used against those weak enough to test themselves against them."

"You cannot know that," Dumbledore argued, eyes once again looking hungrily over Harry's shoulder.

Harry stepped over so that his face filled Dumbledore's vision. "I can and do know, because unlike you, I have read Ignotus's personal journal."

Dumbledore's eyes went wide.

"It's been in my family for generations. Just sitting on a shelf in our library. And I had nothing but time as a child. It's far more interesting than the fable you know." Harry sighed as he fell backwards into one of the grubby chairs. "The three didn't cheat death for themselves. Death isn't so infinitely petty as to be bothered by that. They saved a village of four hundred people from drowning in a flood.

"The mythical bridge was real, but it wasn't to cross a simple river. The bridge they built allowed the trapped villagers to escape from their drowning island village. For that, Death wanted repayment. He took corporeal form, appearing physically before the brothers and offering them each a 'gift'. Antioch had issues from the wars he had fought against the French around the time Ignotus was born and never wanted to feel weak again. So he asked for the power to win every fight. Death plucked a nice straight branch from a nearby elder tree and combined it with one of the Thestral tail hairs from his braided necklace."

Harry waved his hand in Hermione's direction, indicating the Elder Wand in her grip.

"Cadmus had lost the supposed 'love of his life' earlier that year and couldn't bear the idea of living without her. So he asked for the curse of restoring the dead. Ignotus wrote that Death actually smiled as he pulled the smooth basalt pebble from the still-flooding river." Another wave, this time in the direction of the ring now lying in the dirt behind him. "It imbued the tiny stone with the Peverell family coat of arms and handed it to the grieving idiot that is my so many great times uncle. Both were meant to achieve one thing and one thing only." Harry paused as he looked right at Dumbledore as he finished the thought. "Send as many lives to Death as the brothers had saved. Starting with their own."

"That's incredible." Bones whispered from her place nearby. Harry trusted that Hermione was watching to ensure she did not go for the Stone either.

"It is also a matter of public record. The coastal flood of 1236 that claimed so many lives. Unlike his brothers though, Ignotus had already cheated death once before as a child. He survived a disease ravaging Godric's Hollow thanks to the work of a passing stranger. A wandering magical that they never managed to identify. So he was wary of the offer from the beginning. He asked for a piece of Death's own Cloak of Invisibility. As it wasn't something Death had made, but a part of the corporeal existence of that concept, it didn't have the same curse as the other two."

Harry paused for a moment as he considered the tales he had heard from his family about their adventures using that very cloak.

"Death still jinxed it. It gets those who use it into trouble. Not deadly trouble, but they will find their misadventures often go a little pear-shaped. But it will still keep them protected, even against Death itself. Death tried for years to get his hands on Ignotus, even long after he'd reclaimed Antioch and Cadmus. Ignotus wore that Cloak for the rest of his life, until he was done living at age 77 and gave it to his son. And so it passed to me."

Harry could feel Hermione trying to calm him from across the room and he appreciated the effort.

"Despite being the eldest, Antioch died without issue, and the Wand has passed through bloody conquest ever since. Cadmus's bride died before they could have any children, but he had a mistress from his youth. A teenage mistake with a daughter of an offshoot of the Slytherin family, ironically enough, given the name of their hometown. There was no love there, but that child held the only true claim to Cadmus's things. It was through that child that the Stone passed. Into the hands of the Gaunts. Right down to the final heir of that line. Who probably used the murder of his muggle father to turn it into the even greater abomination that it is now."

Harry sighed heavily as he paused once again, having divulged the information that had been kept safely within his family library for generations. He knew the properties of the basalt which made up the Stone. They could attempt to melt the Stone as they had with the Diadem. Basalt melted far easier than sapphire. But it was time for that monstrosity to end for good. He didn't want any residue left of it. Not even melted slag.

"Sirius?" He finally said, glancing up at the curious face still watching him through the door. "I know that you've been practising, but can you control fiendfyre yet?"

"Now hang on." Bones said.

"It has to be something that will entirely consume it," Harry added firmly. "I doubt we could find a place more safely isolated to cast a spell like that than this shack with nothing for miles around. And that stupid bloody Stone needs to be destroyed. Not just because Riddle is using it to anchor his soul here. But to remove its own evil from the world as well." Harry replied.

"You can't…" Dumbledore whined pitifully, unable to break free from the pressure Harry was still pining him with.

"Aren't you listening? It won't help you." Harry growled. "An illusion of Ariana will appear and she will goad you into killing yourself. Whisper all the right things in your ear to stir your guilt until you reach your breaking point. That's all the Stone has ever done. Convince anyone who was fool enough to try to pierce the Veil to end their own life. It will get inside your head and manipulate your darkest memories against you. You'll be eager to die by the time they've finished whispering in your ear. If you want to die so badly, there are kinder ways."

Harry was panting by the time he finished ranting at the old fool.

"The Veil only works in one direction." He continued. "Once someone passes through, they cannot return. Not ever."

Harry slumped deeper into the chair and he felt Hermione walk up behind him. He could feel that her attention was still focused on the tiny piece of jewellery sitting in the dirt under the floorboards, but her magic and heart were soothing him.

"I'm with Harry on this. It must be destroyed." She said, adding her two cents to the matter. Not that anyone would have doubted she'd side with Harry. Especially not Harry. He'd seen how she reacted to an artifact she cared about being befouled by Riddle. And she too knew the bloody history of the Hallows.

"I don't disagree." Bones replied, watching them both closely. "But fiendfyre is dangerous. If you can't control it, it will take all of us to contain it while it burns itself out."

"Good." Harry stated. "It can take this entire shack with it."

"Is that wise?" Sirius questioned, stepping inside but only one foot. "If we destroy the shack, Riddle might suspect something."

"If Riddle returns, he will already suspect something the moment he gets close. Unless Dumbledore and the Unspeakables are planning to restore all of those dangerous traps that they destroyed out there, we've already made it obvious that someone has been here. If anything, a fire, especially fiendfyre, might be the best explanation. Any sufficiently talented magical could have feasibly stumbled across the shack and used the spell in retaliation against the defences." Harry turned his gaze to the pinned old man once more. "Isn't that right?"

Dumbledore seemed torn. The naked desire for the Stone was still evident in his eyes, but he seemed to have gained some semblance of control of himself again.

"Please…" He begged one more time.

"No!" Harry replied firmly. "No matter what we decide here, I will take whatever remains of that abomination and hide it from everyone on Earth for the rest of time. No one will use the Stone ever again. I swear it."

A flash of magic shone from the place where Hermione was pressed against Harry and he knew that the pair of them had just truly sworn to keep the Stone from everyone else.

"You will not be using it. I'm sorry, but…" Harry paused and sighed again, not happy at this turn of events. The moment Hermione had confirmed her suspicions they had worried this might happen. It was a worthless title, mostly part of the stories surrounding the objects. But it was Harry's now, nonetheless. "...as it's Master, I forbid it."

Dumbledore locked his eyes on Harry's and he could see the war going on inside of the man before he finally slumped fully into the magic holding him in place. He had given up on the dream. Harry had managed to get through to him at last.

"Riddle has already been here," Dumbledore said after several long silent moments.

"How do you know?" Bones asked, stepping towards the group at this end of the shack.

"The path," Dumbledore replied, looking up once more and finally seemed to be lighter for having given up his fool's errand. "I mentioned that it seemed someone had used it. I was checking the entire way. I am sure that Riddle has been here in the past few weeks. And several of the spells I broke down bore evidence that he had reinforced them recently. Since the ritual. I suppose that Tom felt the need to check on one of the anchors after the death of Nagini. Ensure that it remained safe before he began acting openly."

"So you don't think he'll have cause to come by and check on it again for some time?" Hermione theorized.

"Unless we are careless and give him cause to check it again, he likely believes this anchor to be safe," Dumbledore confirmed and Harry allowed his legs to rest on the floor once more, though he still did not release the man entirely. The Stone was still intact just over Harry's shoulder and thrumming with the compulsion Riddle had infused in it.

Dumbledore looked at the others before directing his gaze back to Harry. "Please forgive me. I've wanted the answer for so long."

Harry matched his gaze, no longer afraid of the man now that the whole story was laid bare before him.

"I was terrified of you as a child," Harry replied. "You put so much power into that scrying spell. It pulled on my magic so hard... I'd never felt anything like it."

Hermione wrapped him even tighter in her magic, unable to move anymore without breaking her vigil on the Stone. She knew exactly how badly he had been affected by that attempt. She was the one who spearheaded the ritual to emancipate him. Accidentally emancipating herself as well in the process, they had since learned.

"Swear that you will not seek it out and I will let you free. We can all go outside and prepare to destroy one more item keeping Riddle from death. Agreed?" Harry asked, watching Dumbledore closely.

The man took several long calming breaths before he nodded. "I swear that I will give up any efforts to use the Resurrection Stone. Forever."

Harry watched the man's eyes as he spoke. Others had always told him about his mother's penetrating stare. Something he'd never had the pleasure of feeling for himself. But that he apparently could bring to bear on others. He used it now, trying to see if there was any lie in Dumbledore's eyes.

It seemed that he was entirely truthful, so Harry allowed his magic to fade.

"Do you have another wand on you?" He asked, getting a confused look from the man.

"Not with me, no."

"Give it back to him," Harry said to Hermione who didn't hesitate to toss the snatched elder wand over her shoulder in the old man's direction. "I'll be taking it back afterwards, too. So you'll need to go and get a new one. Its path of death needs to be stopped for good as well."

Dumbledore nodded his agreement. "I had always hoped that if I died unconquered, perhaps that would break its magic."

Harry smirked at that. It seems the man wasn't entirely gone. Despite what he might have postulated as a teen with Grindelwald whispering in his ear. Or the other damage he had made throughout the past century through inaction or bad choices, Albus Dumbledore was, at heart, a good man. Just one who had become unhealthily obsessed with the Deathly Hallows. And, to a point, his own hype from time to time.

Now that Harry had permanently denied him the thing he most desperately sought, it seemed the hold the Hallows had on the man might have finally broken. And, perhaps that reasoning helped to explain some of Dumbledore's reluctance to properly join the fight against Riddle the first time around. Had Riddle gotten his hands on the Elder Wand, they would likely never have had this conversation. Riddle would have plunged the world into darkness a decade ago.

"Let's go outside and kill this thing," Harry said.

Dumbledore nodded and walked out of the shack, watched closely by everyone inside just in case.

"You're kind of scary when you get like this, kiddo," Sirius said softly before he too walked outside, not looking back at all. It seemed Harry's worry that the compulsion might have affected him was unfounded. And now he was going to need to make it up to his godfather for doubting his strength of mind. Although he'd sooner apologize for being wrong than lose Sirius again.

"Whenever you two are ready." Madame Bones said, glancing once at the hole in the floor with the golden box hanging half open on its edge before she too vacated the shack.

With the adults they were watching all gone, Hermione turned fully to Harry and wrapped him tightly in her arms. "Are you ok?" She whispered.

Harry smiled. No one on Earth knew him as well as she did. Hermione had been with him through every single major point in his life bar the one that first set him on this path. She had comforted him after every pain. Shared every joy with him. And stood by him no matter the risk to herself and her family.

"I love you." He said softly, pressing a gentle kiss to the arm wrapped around his neck.

"And I love you. How about we destroy this awful thing and go have a nice long bath? I feel dirty just standing near it."

Harry gave a relieved sigh and nodded. "Yeah, let's."