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Harry stepped through the portrait hole into the Gryffindor common room, staggering slightly. His limbs felt heavy, and his mind was still reeling from what had just transpired in the Room of Requirement. Even though he had known what to expect, having seen the locket's defense when Ron destroyed it in their past life, nothing had prepared him for this. Perhaps it was Dumbledore's presence, or perhaps it was because he was more aware of what lay ahead, but the locket had fought viciously—whispering his darkest fears, showing him visions meant to break him.

It had picked him out as the weak link.

He shuddered at the memory of the cold, sibilant voice slithering into his mind, pressing against the fractures he tried so hard to ignore. He swallowed hard, forcing down the memories of the visions it had shown him—Hermione laughing cruelly as she walked away with someone else, Sirius falling through the veil over and over, and the chilling voice of Voldemort whispering that he would never be enough, never truly win. It had mocked him, telling him he was only here because of others, that his survival was borrowed strength, that those he cared about would still die. That Hermione—

Harry squeezed his eyes shut, exhaling slowly, pushing it all away. It wasn't real. It had never been real. It was gone now. That was what mattered. He took comfort in the fact that another Horcrux was gone. Another piece of Voldemort gone. Another step closer to ending this war before things got a lot worse. The locket was nothing more than shattered metal, the darkness dissipated. He clung to that thought, pushing the intrusive whispers to the back of his mind. They were another step closer, but that meant they were also nearing the harder ones.

With a deep breath, he refocused and took in the warmth of the common room. The fire flickered softly in the hearth, and clusters of students were scattered about, finishing their homework or chatting in low voices. The cozy atmosphere was a stark contrast to the suffocating darkness he had just left behind.

His eyes landed on Ron and Lavender, who were seated near the fire. Ron looked relaxed for once, his long limbs sprawled across the couch as he laughed at something Lavender had said. She was curled up beside him, smiling as she played with the cuff of his sleeve.

Smiling, he made his way over to them.

"Hey," he greeted, his voice a little rougher than usual.

Ron looked up, his easy grin shifting into a look of concern. "Blimey, mate, you look like you just wrestled a troll. What happened?"

Lavender tilted her head. "You do look a bit pale, Harry. Rough night?"

Harry let out a short laugh and sank into the armchair across from them, stretching out his legs. "Something like that," he admitted. He wasn't about to tell them what he'd actually been doing—at least not yet. Instead, he forced a smirk. "Let's just say I had a run-in with something unpleasant and leave it at that."

Ron snorted. "That's vague, even for you. You sure you don't need Madam Pomfrey? You look like you've seen a Dementor."

"Just tired," Harry said, waving a hand dismissively. "So, what's going on here?" He gestured between the two of them with a teasing grin.

Lavender giggled, and Ron rolled his eyes, though his ears turned red. "We were just talking about the next Hogsmeade weekend," she said brightly before turning back to Ron, nudging him with her shoulder. "Tell him what you just agreed to."

Ron groaned, rubbing his face, but there was a small, amused grin peeking through. "Lavender wants to go to Madam Puddifoot's the next time we are there."

Harry barely suppressed a laugh. The idea of Ron, lanky and awkward, sitting in a room filled with pink frills and far too many lace doilies was enough to make him smirk. "Blimey, Ron. I didn't take you for a lace and doily kind of bloke."

Lavender giggled, clearly delighted. "Oh don't listen to him, it'll be so romantic." She wrapped her arms around his, leaning into him.

Ron turned a bit red but didn't pull away. "Yeah, yeah," he muttered, avoiding Harry's gaze. "Figured, why not?"

Harry raised his eyebrows. "Didn't think you were much for the whole 'romantic teashop' scene."

Ron shot him a look, half-exasperated, half-smug. "Well, I thought it might be nice to go if Lavender wanted to."

Lavender, practically glowing with excitement, squeezed Ron's arm.

Harry grinned. "This is a whole new Ron Weasley. Can't wait to see it in action."

Lavender laughed, but Ron just shook his head with a good-natured sigh. Despite his initial reluctance, Harry could tell Ron wasn't actually miserable about the plan.

They continued chatting, mostly about the more mundane aspects of Hogwarts life—flying, homework, the next Hogsmeade weekend. Harry let himself relax into the moment, the weight on his chest lifting slightly as the warmth of friendship pushed back the lingering cold of the Horcrux's influence.

After a while, Lavender stretched and stood. "I should head up before Parvati starts asking where I've disappeared to. She's been on a whole thing about dream interpretation lately, and I'd rather not be the subject of tonight's analysis."

Ron chuckled. "Tell her I said you're dreaming about me."

Lavender rolled her eyes but grinned. "That's a given, obviously."

She leaned down, pecking Ron on the cheek before waving to Harry. "Night, Harry."

"Night, Lavender."

As she disappeared up the stairs, Ron sighed, stretching his arms behind his head. "She's something, isn't she?"

Harry chuckled, shaking his head. "Good for you, mate."

For a moment, a comfortable silence stretched between them. The fire crackled softly, casting flickering shadows along the walls. Then, more quietly, Ron said, "You sure you're alright?"

Harry hesitated, but there was no point in lying. "Not really. But I will be."

Ron nodded slowly. "You know, I'm here for you. You don't have to do whatever you are doing alone."

Harry looked at him, appreciating the sincerity in his best friend's expression. "I know."

Ron held his gaze a moment longer before clapping a hand on his shoulder. "Alright, enough heavy stuff. You have enough energy for one match of chess, or are you about to pass out?"

Harry yawned. "I'm heading up. I'm shocked I hadn't fallen asleep on the couch talking to the two of you."

Ron nodded as the two of them stood up from the couch and made their way up the spiral staircase toward their dormitory. The exhaustion in Harry's bones was settling in deeper now, and all he wanted to do was collapse onto his bed and let sleep take him. But as he opened the door, all traces of fatigue evaporated in an instant.

The dormitory was a mess.

Trashed.

Clothes were thrown all over the place, books lay scattered across the floor, and bedsheets had been yanked off their respective beds. Ink was splattered over parchment, and several personal belongings had been overturned or outright broken.

"What the bloody hell?" Ron's voice was sharp with anger as he stepped inside. His eyes darted around the room, taking in the mess, before he let out a frustrated growl. "This—this has to be a prank, right? Who the hell does something like this?"

Harry exhaled slowly, stepping inside and scanning the room. His gut told him this wasn't just Peeves running wild. Most of the damage was centered around his things—his trunk had been upended, clothes thrown everywhere, and several of his books had been torn in half.

"I don't know," Harry admitted. "Could've been a prank gone too far. Or maybe Peeves had a go at it. But …" He frowned, feeling uneasy. "Something feels off."

Ron shot him a sharp look. "Off how?"

Harry shook his head. "Not sure yet."

The door creaked open wider, and Neville, Dean, and Seamus entered, stopping short at the sight before them.

"Oh, for Merlin's sake," Seamus muttered, rubbing a hand down his face. "What happened here?"

"No idea," Ron grumbled. "But whoever did it's got another thing coming."

"Peeves?" Neville suggested.

"Maybe," Harry said, still scanning the room as he knelt by his own trunk. He opened it carefully, checking inside. The first thing he looked for was the Marauder's Map. He let out a breath of relief when he found it intact, tucked safely beneath a pile of his clothes. That was one less thing to worry about.

Neville sighed, running a hand through his hair as he made his way over to his bed. "Well, standing around isn't going to fix it. Let's start cleaning up."

"Yeah," Dean agreed, shaking his head. "What a nightmare."

The boys set to work, each of them repairing their belongings and putting their things back in order. Ron muttered angrily under his breath the entire time, but even as frustrated as he was, he kept working. Harry, despite having one of the largest messes to clean up, was the first to finish.

As the others continued, he stepped into the small alcove near his bed, pulling out the Marauder's Map. He unfolded the parchment and tapped it with his wand.

"I solemnly swear that I am up to no good."

Ink spread across the map, revealing the intricate layout of Hogwarts. His eyes immediately searched for one name.

Barty Crouch Jr.

His heart pounded slightly as he scanned the tiny labeled figures moving around the castle. And then—there. Barty Crouch Jr. was in his office.

Frowning, he tapped the map again. "Mischief managed." The ink faded, and he folded it up before stepping back into the main part of the dormitory.

"I'm going to go tell Dumbledore," he said, sliding the map into his pocket.

Ron looked up from where he was repairing one of his books. "Yeah. Good call. Let him know some nutter's tearing up our stuff."

Harry nodded. "I'll be back soon."

With that, he turned and left the dormitory, heading straight for the Headmaster's office.

Harry hurried through the dimly lit corridors of Hogwarts, his breath slightly uneven from his quick pace. The events of the night—the destruction of the Horcrux, the violation of his dormitory—swirled in his mind, leaving a lingering unease in his chest.

Reaching the entrance to Dumbledore's office, he stopped before the stone gargoyle guarding the passage. Taking a steadying breath, he muttered, "Nimbus Nougat."

The gargoyle immediately shifted aside, revealing the moving spiral staircase. Harry stepped on, feeling the familiar sensation as the stairs lifted him toward the Headmaster's office. When he reached the top, he hesitated only a moment before knocking.

"Enter," came Dumbledore's calm voice from within.

Pushing open the door, Harry stepped inside, only to see the Headmaster glance up from behind his cluttered desk, mild surprise flickering in his blue eyes.

"Well now," Dumbledore mused, setting down his quill. "It is not often that I am surprised, Harry." He leaned back in his chair, observing him with curiosity. "You've had quite a long day, and I suspect the effects of destroying the locket are still weighing on you. Shouldn't you be in bed? I believe curfew is fast approaching."

Harry let out a breath and nodded. "I was heading to bed, sir. But when I got to my dormitory, I found that my room had been trashed."

Dumbledore's expression immediately turned serious. He sat forward, fingers steepled together. "Trashed, you say?"

Harry nodded.

The twinkle in Dumbledore's eyes faded as he considered this new information. "Is it possible this had merely been a prank that had gone too far?"

Harry shook his head almost immediately. "No, sir. I don't think so."

Dumbledore studied him carefully. "Do you have reason to believe this was targeted at you?"

Harry hesitated before shaking his head again. "I … I think so. Even though everyone's things had been rifled through, most of the damage was around my things ... and something about it felt off."

Dumbledore hummed thoughtfully. "And do you have an idea as to who might be responsible?"

Harry opened his mouth, then closed it. His mind raced, debating how much to say. He knew who was responsible ... or at least he had a very strong suspicion. But saying it outright could change everything. He had already altered so much by revealing the Horcruxes early—what if this revelation pushed things into even more unpredictable territory?

Dumbledore must have sensed his hesitation, for he motioned lightly with his hand. "Go on, Harry."

Harry licked his lips, then finally said, "I think I know. But I can't say."

Dumbledore's gaze sharpened. "You can't? Or you won't?"

Harry's jaw clenched slightly. "If I tell you, it will almost certainly change things around the castle and make it harder to plan and prepare for what comes next."

For the first time in the conversation, Dumbledore's face hardened. He was silent for a moment, his piercing gaze locking onto Harry's. Then, slowly, he turned away, staring into the flickering fireplace as though contemplating something deeply.

After several long seconds, he inhaled through his nose, then exhaled, shifting his attention back to Harry. "If what I believe is indeed happening than there are already significantly changes, Harry. And if you had not been expecting this, then perhaps you are underestimating the impact of your actions."

Harry nodded slightly. "You might be right," Harry admitted. "But I don't think this is entirely related to what we are doing with the Horcruxes. I think this happened because I've been acting differently this year—because I'm making different choices than I did before."

Dumbledore tapped his fingers lightly against his desk, his expression unreadable. Then, after a long moment of contemplation, he reluctantly nodded. "That is possible."

There was another long pause before Dumbledore spoke again, and when he did, his voice was laced with quiet authority.

"However, let me be absolutely clear, Harry." His eyes bore into Harry's with an intensity that left no room for doubt. "If at any point, the lives of students are at risk because of these changes—because of this plan of yours—you will come clean with me. I will not endanger innocent lives for the sake of preserving an uncertain future."

Harry met his gaze evenly. This was Dumbledore's line in the sand. He wasn't asking—he was telling Harry that he wouldn't let things escalate too far.

Harry considered it carefully before finally nodding. "That's acceptable."

Dumbledore's expression softened just slightly, but his eyes remained serious. "Then we understand each other."

Silence stretched between them again, but this time, it was not uncomfortable.

Finally, Dumbledore leaned back in his chair and sighed. "For now, I will look into what happened in your dormitory as is my responsibility for something like this. I assume you and your friends have already cleaned up most of the mess?"

Harry nodded. "Yeah. We fixed what we could."

"Good." Dumbledore looked over his half-moon spectacles andlet out a small sigh, rubbing his hands together as he leaned back in his chair. His expression remained serious, but there was a trace of something else—perhaps contemplation or calculation. Then, with a decisive nod, he said, "Well, no matter what the intent behind this event was, I suppose we should be more proactive with our extracurricular activities."

Harry raised an eyebrow slightly and nodded.

"I will move up the schedule for the next Horcrux," Dumbledore stated. "I suspect the ring shall be our next target."

Harry straightened slightly. The ring—the Peverell ring, with the Resurrection Stone embedded in it. That meant they would be heading to the Gaunt shack soon. That Horcrux, however, was particularly dangerous. The curse on it had nearly cost Dumbledore his life in the original timeline.

Dumbledore studied Harry's reaction carefully before nodding to himself. "I will come and retrieve you the moment I am ready."

Harry swallowed and then nodded. "Thank you, sir. For keeping your word and letting me come along."

Dumbledore's lips twitched into something that was almost a smile. "You had made a good point earlier, Harry. And while I may be old, I am not so old that I am completely deaf to the wisdom of youth."

Harry couldn't help but let out a small chuckle. "Glad to hear it."

He stood, heading toward the door, but just as his hand reached for the handle, Dumbledore coughed lightly. The sound was soft, but it carried enough weight to make Harry pause and glance back at him.

The Headmaster's face had lost its brief amusement, replaced instead with an expression of quiet caution. "Just in case this was more than a simple case of a prank gone too far," Dumbledore said slowly, "I would advise you to be mindful of your surroundings, Harry. Avoid whoever it is you suspect may be behind this, at least for the time being. And whenever possible, try to remain in the company of others."

Harry studied him for a moment. He had already made a habit of staying close to his friends, but Dumbledore's tone suggested he saw this as more than just a casual precaution. If this was truly meant to be a message—or worse, a prelude to something else—then he needed to take it seriously.

After a brief pause, he gave a small nod. "I will."

Dumbledore inclined his head slightly, seemingly satisfied. "Then I wish you a pleasant sleep, Harry."

"Goodnight, Professor," Harry said before finally stepping out of the office.

As the stone gargoyle sealed itself behind him, he exhaled a breath he hadn't realized he was holding. His mind was still buzzing with everything that had happened that night—the Horcrux, the dormitory incident, and now the impending search for the ring. It felt like the weight of everything was pressing down on him all at once.

Pulling his cloak around him, Harry made his way back toward Gryffindor Tower, doing his best to shake off the unease curling in his stomach.

- HP - SC - HP - SC - HP - SC - HP - SC - HP -

Harry walked briskly through the dimly lit corridors, his mind still replaying his conversation with Dumbledore. The idea of going after the ring Horcrux sooner than expected weighed on him, but he shoved the thoughts aside. He'd worry about that when the time came. Right now, all he wanted to do was get back to the Gryffindor common room and collapse into bed.

Just as he rounded a corner, he nearly collided with someone stepping out of a side room.

"Whoa!" The other person stumbled back, hands raised slightly in surprise.

Harry blinked, recognizing the older student immediately. "Cedric?"

Cedric Diggory, clad in his Hufflepuff robes, looked just as startled to see Harry. Then, after a quick glance down the hallway, his lips quirked into an amused smile. "Harry Potter, out past curfew?" He clicked his tongue playfully. "Tsk, tsk. You do know that wandering around at this hour could get you in trouble, don't you?"

Harry grinned, shaking his head. "Yeah, yeah. I suppose it would be a real shame if I got suspended from the tournament for breaking curfew." He smirked. "That'd mean the other Hogwarts champion would have a clear shot at winning."

Cedric chuckled. "Exactly! And I'd hate to win by default. That would just be embarrassing for both of us."

Harry laughed, shaking his head. "You're doing just fine without needing me out of the way, Cedric."

Cedric's smirk faltered slightly, and he quickly cleared his throat. "Well, anyway. You should be heading back before someone actually catches you out here."

Harry tilted his head slightly, suddenly curious. "Why are you out past curfew?"

For a brief moment, Cedric's composed expression wavered. A faint blush crept up his cheeks before he quickly shook his head, composing himself. "Prefect duties," he said smoothly. "I was just finishing my rounds and heading back to my common room."

Harry raised an eyebrow, glancing around. "Huh. That's weird."

Cedric tensed. "Weird?"

"Yeah," Harry mused, looking pointedly at their surroundings. "I could have sworn the Hufflepuff common room was in the dungeons, not anywhere near this corridor." He crossed his arms. "This is pretty close to the Ravenclaw common room."

Cedric's blush deepened. "Well, I—"

"And," Harry continued, barely holding back a smirk, "I would have assumed that most Ravenclaw students would be really good at following curfew. But I suppose there's a chance that even a Ravenclaw could sneak out late at night."

Cedric's lips parted, but no sound came out.

Harry's eyes twinkled with amusement as he took a closer look at Cedric's usually neat appearance. "Your hair," he observed, pointing at Cedric's slightly disheveled locks, "is a little less perfect than usual."

Before Cedric could respond, a muffled snicker came from behind the door Cedric had just stepped out of.

Harry fought to keep his grin from growing. "Right," he drawled a little louder than needed, nodding to Cedric. "Well, I won't keep you. Enjoy your night." He started to turn away before adding, "Oh, and say hi to Cho whenever you see her next."

Another stifled laugh came from behind the door, and Cedric looked at him shaking his head.

"Goodnight, Harry," Cedric muttered, rubbing his temple.

Still smirking, Harry gave him a casual wave and continued on his way.

As he approached the grand staircase, his mind had already started shifting back to more serious matters. The 'destroyed' dormitory. The upcoming Horcrux mission. He knew he had to tread carefully.

Just as he placed his foot on the first step, a gruff voice cut through the silence.

"Potter."

Harry immediately tensed.

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If you like this content do not hesitate to smash that like button and subscribe. Haha but seriously if you do enjoy the story - do favorite it, other than messaging me or leaving a comment it's the only way I know if you are enjoying the stories and chapters.

Story Note 1 – For the sake of the timeline this chapter starts shortly after the last chapter. So the mysterious vandal had been sabotaging the room while Harry had been with Dumbledore destroying the Horcrux.

Story Note 2 – Congrats to anyone who was reading the Harry/Dumbledore conversation where Dumbledore says he wouldn't let things get so far that a students life was in danger and thinking that doesn't sound like Dumbledore from canon based on his actions in Book 6. However, I think that not only does that line fit with the Dumbledore I have written so far but falls in line with his care for students. For the most part I do believe that Dumbledore was aware of Malfoy's actions but as he does have a little bit of a believe that he is a great wizard was more willing to let Draco keep doing what he was doing (even though it put others at risk) because it was Dumbledore making those choices rather than in this case where he feels "helpless" because this is Harry's plan.

Story Note 3 – Oof such a tense place to leave off the chapter! Who could it be?!

Thanks to those of you out to those of you who enjoy my stories, I promise to keep updating the stories as long as you enjoy them, and a special thanks to those of you who have taken the time to leave feedback or reach out to me directly.

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Admiral Ackbar - That's a good catch and it will come into play later but the biggest reason for this is that I'd like to think that silent casting obviously has significant benefits but comes with the risk of being less precise. I'd imagine Harry will have a chat with him at some point! Haha you certainly arent the only one who feels that way, but I guess I fell that Malfoy could largely be a product of his environment. Not that that really forgives what he did but can explain it and gives the potential for redemption. No worries if Luna found it, shes a delight!

Hands Off MY Wolfie - I think it was more of a warning rather than an accident that the mess was there.

Alex - I thought I've been pretty open from the start that Fleur would always be a part of the dynamic. And unsure where the take on Fleur is but understand that everyone definitely has a take.