OK, this is the climax of this fic…as outlined in the challenge, it must include a confrontation between Harry and ol' Voldie, that resembles the one between Spiderman and the Green Goblin in the first movie of the trilogy…"You're an amazing creature Spiderman. You and I are not so different…" "You're a murderer…"
Sound familiar?
Well…on with the story!
Disclaimer: All JK's, but the plot…and that thing in the end is from the script of the Spiderman 1 movie…
Chapter III: The Unexpected
Hermione had been sitting in the Black family library all morning, searching for any snippet of information, regarding Horcruxes. She had the faintest idea of what they were, from what Harry had said, but her inquisitive mind required more answers.
She flipped another page of an old book, Medieval Dark Objects, and an interesting piece of information caught her gaze. A picture of a locket, that looked vaguely familiar, was at the top of the page. A caption was included, "The last known possessor of Slytherin's locket is a woman, by the name of Hepzibah Smith, who lived in London, England. She passed away nearly thirty years ago, and with her death, the locket disappeared as well."
Where had Hermione seen that locket before? She decided to talk to Harry about it, and
immediately went downstairs to locate her quarry.
She found him alone in the kitchen, eating a piece of treacle tart absentmindedly, and clearly lost in thought.
"Harry?"
He jumped at the sound of her voice. "Hermione? Is everything alright?"
"Have you had nightmares again?" she asked sternly.
"No, I haven't."
Yet, her disproving gaze intensified. Harry felt as if she could see inside him.
"Harry?"
He sighed in response.
"You know me too well, Hermione. That's why I want you to stay away. I'm afraid this nightmare may be a vision. Every night, I have to contend with seeing you and Ron, "he looked down and gulped, "die."
Harry hadn't before appreciated how beautiful the fireplace looked. He was sure Hermione was going to start lecturing him on how impossible his assumptions were. But instead, he suddenly felt a pair of arms encircle him from the back.
"I know, Harry, I know," a soft voice spoke in his ear. He shivered.
"I don't want to lose you, Hermione. I…I don't know what I'd do without you. You…" a tear slipped down his cheek - the first that had done so, in a very long time. "What if those visions are true? What then?"
"I can't answer that, Harry. I don't even know if we are going to live. But what I do know is that we have to remain strong. Just remember, wherever you go, I'll follow you."
The two sat in a comfortable silence for a while. How long, neither knew, but a creak of the staircase brought them back to reality. Ron had finally risen out of bed, and half-awake, he trudged into the kitchen.
"What's for breakfast?" he asked, eyeing the empty stove.
"There's some left over treacle tart on the counter, mate. Help yourself."
Ron did not need a second invitation. A generous helping was sitting on a plate in front of him within seconds.
"Suwhtwrudinghr?" he asked through a mouthful
"So what were we doing here?" translated Harry. He wondered a bit himself.
"I was just telling Harry about a possible Horcrux that's described in this book I found upstairs," said Hermione, and quite believingly.
"Really? What is it?" Ron seemed a bit more awake now.
"There was this woman, Hepzibah Smith, and she was a collector of magical artifacts when she was alive," Hermione began her narrative.
A light seemed to have been switched in Harry's brain. He had forgotten all about that memory!
"And she owned a locket," he interrupted Hermione. "Riddle took it when she died!"
"How do you know that, Harry?" Hermione inquired suspiciously. "It took me all morning to even find out about her!"
"It was a memory Dumbledore showed me last year," Harry said, a mournful note in his voice. "He took it from her house elf, and it was Slytherin's locket. He thought it might be one of the Horcruxes. He didn't know where it was though."
"Didn't we find a locket that looks like that when we were cleaning out this place two years ago?" Ron's face was twisted in concentration, as it was usually when he recalled an old memory.
"What did you say, Ron?" Hermione asked, as if she was hit by a sudden flashback.
"I said, we found a locket that looked like that two years ago. Didn't we?"
Stillness came over the trio, as comprehension slowly set in. A few minutes later, Hermione found her voice first.
"Ron!" she exclaimed, "You're a genius!"
Further explanations were not needed. The three of them split up in three different ways, and began combing the house, from its attic, to its basement, in search for the elusive ancient jewel of Salazar Slytherin.
As the day wore on, the trio had become progressively more discouraged. By the time they had finished looking through every web-covered corner of the mansion, night had fallen entirely. Dusty, exhausted and disgruntled, they had reached a dead end. The locket was nowhere to be found.
Gathered by the fire in the living room, Harry, Ron and Hermione stared listlessly in the flames.
"Where could it possibly be?" Ron asked the room at large.
" I dunno. Maybe Mundungus sold it, or Kreacher probably hid it really well," Harry theorized.
Hermione was at a loss to say anything. She did not have the slightest idea of the locket's whereabouts either.
With that, the three of them trudged back up the stairs to their respective rooms, and fell asleep nearly at once.
The following morning found our heroes still deeply asleep. Yesterday's effort on the Horcrux had wrung them out entirely. The sun's rays, however, were successful in causing Hermione to be the first to open her eyes - that, and the knock on the door, which woke her up entirely.
She regrettably left the warmth of the bed, and descended the stairs to the entrance hall of Grimmauld Place. On the other side of the curtain, she saw the familiar silhouette of Professor McGonagall, but still, she had to be sure.
"Who is it?"
"Miss Granger, I'm Professor McGonagall."
"What was the assignment I had trouble mastering last year?"
"I believe it was the Aguamenti spell, Miss Granger."
The door opened, and the Headmistress walked inside. She looked a little worse for wear, with her robes disheveled and appearing to be quite anxious.
"Miss Granger, please gather Mr. Weasley and Mr. Potter at once, and then join me in the sitting room. I have information of the utmost importance to share with you."
Hermione bolted back upstairs, and burst into Ron's room. He didn't move, but simply rolled under the covers, and faced the wall. Hermione shook him by the shoulders so hard, that he ended up falling on the floor.
"What in the bloody hell was that for?" he snapped at her when the initial shock had worn off.
"McGonagall is here. She has something to tell us," Hermione answered automatically, and rushed off to Harry's room.
A few minutes later, half-awake and disheveled, Harry and Ron marched in line behind Hermione into the sitting room, and Ron was grumbling about something under his breath. But what that was, nobody found out, as they took a seat on the couch, and the Headmistress turned to them.
"Now, what I am about to tell you, has to do with the notes Albus left after his death. Or rather, something that is within them. This information is very sensitive, and it is crucial that you must not tell a soul."
Assent was quickly reached, and Professor McGonagall continued.
"It was reading one of Albus' notebooks yesterday. In it, he described how he performed the Fidelius Charm for Grimmauld Place. The reason it still holds, even after his passing, is because he was not the Secret Keeper. Someone, with the initials R.A.B. is, according to Albus, and if the charm is intact, then that person is still alive somewhere."
A shocked silence enveloped the room. Harry's mind quickly recalled the note he had recovered from the fake locket that fateful night. Apparently, it was written before Dumbledore approached the mysterious persona with the request to be Secret Keeper. If he was, then he had to be hidden somewhere. But where, he wondered. There was absolutely no hint as to where to start the search.
"Professor, did he write anything else about this R.A.B. person?" Harry asked.
"No, Harry, I'm afraid not. However, I have hypothesized, that it may be a member of the Black family. Long ago, I taught a student by the name of Regulus Black, though I do not recall his middle name. He was in Slytherin, but was on quite good terms with Albus."
"Was he friends with my father?"
"No, Harry, they weren't. The animosity between Gryffindor and Slytherin existed back then as well, just as it does today…or did, rather," she finished sadly.
"What happened to him?" Ron asked.
"Well, as far as I remember, he joined the Death Eaters after graduation. Word has it that his mother forced him to do it. But since then, nothing has been heard of him. It is quite possible that he is dead now."
Harry had a wild idea. What if R.A.B. was indeed Regulus? The note seemed believable enough. But how did he find out if it was true?
The ring of a second visitor of the day suddenly permeated the pregnant atmosphere of tension, and Harry's internal musings. He walked over to the front door, and peeked through the crack between the curtain and the frame of the door. He barely managed to conceal a shout of surprise. Perhaps he was finally going insane, but Sirius Black was outside the front door. He doubled back to the sitting room.
"Siri…Sirius is…is right outside," he gasped, his eyes the size of saucers.
Professor McGonagall rushed to the front door.
"Who are you?" she called out fiercely.
"Regulus Alphard Black," came the reply.
It was certainly not what she expected.
"But you're dead! You have to be a Death Eater!"
Minerva McGonagall felt fear. An emotion she had nearly forgotten. How was it possible they could find Grimmauld Place? Maybe the charm was broken!
"If I was a Death Eater, how would I know where to find this house? I'm the bloody secret keeper after all," the person, named Regulus, growled from the other side.
The confusion was complete. Harry, Ron and Hermione had been standing in the doorway of the sitting room, observing the whole exchange, as the entrance opened to reveal a person, who resembled Sirius in many ways, but seemed taller and thinner than his late brother.
He walked in. The dim light fell on his face, and it was etched with the effects of the tribulation and stress he must have been through over the years. He had been handsome once, but those days were long gone. His robes were patched, dirty and gray. A days old beard covered his face, and there was a smell of tobacco about him.
"Harry Potter," he simply said, squinting at the hero of the story. "It was seventeen years ago when I saw you last."
Harry could not utter a response.
"Mr. Black," Hermione squeaked. "Are you R.A.B.?"
Theie guest gave a scoff, and snapped, "Well, who else could it be? Binns? I had that thing, and I hid it here about fifteen years ago. It's a miracle I survived this long."
"Was it Slytherin's locket?" Harry asked softly.
"Aye, it was."
"Well, it's not here anymore," Ron said darkly.
"What do you mean it's not here? It's upstairs, in that cabinet by the tapestry."
"We cleaned it out two years ago," Hermione explained. "Kreacher took the locket, and after that, we couldn't find it."
"That bugger! He worshipped my mother, and she was a nasty person. I don't know how many times Kreacher walked by me, always muttering to himself about wanting me dead," Regulus reminisced with disgust.
"Regulus, how did you know to come here, now, of all times?" Hermione asked, her voice a tad more confident.
The former Death Eater sighed deeply.
"Professor McGonagall told you about me. Once upon a time, Dumbledore asked me to be the secret keeper on this house, when he cast the Fidelius Charm, and then urged me to go into hiding. I took a great risk, because I was also a Death Eater, running away from Voldemort."
"There was a charm on that notebook of Dumbledore's. If someone in the Order read the information, my wand would signal me, and I knew Albus was dead, which meant I had to arrive back as soon as I could. My purpose now is to stay hidden, and assist as much as I can in the…task that Dumbledore assigned."
Harry was still skeptical.
"How do we know we can trust you," he said testily.
"Harry, how do you think I found this house? I'm the secret keeper. I would die, before I reveal the address to anyone else. And if I died, the Fidelius Charm would disappear as well," Regulus explained patiently. "It is still active. Therefore I'm not lying."
Later that afternoon, after a lengthy discussion concerning the possible whereabouts of Slytherin's locket, it was agreed that Burke's shop in Knockturn Alley would be a good place to start the search. Harry and Regulus would be the only two to attempt the recovery of the Horcrux, while Ron and Hermione remained behind to research other possible leads, and Professor McGonagall fulfilled an information-gathering assignment from the Order.
By means of a Muggle taxicab, they arrived at the Leaky Cauldron pub. Harry paid the driver, and then the duo entered Diagon Alley through the pub. Desolate and empty were the ideal words to describe the current condition of the formerly vibrant shopping alley. Windows were boarded; yellowed posters of escaped Death Eaters hung on the planks, and a few tired silhouettes could be seen moving, as if gliding, up and down the street.
Knockturn Alley seemed darker and more sinister, despite the larger crowds there. People were eyeing Harry strangely, then bringing their eyes back to the ground again and continuing on walking hastily. It was unnerving, with the chance of another attack or disappearance so real.
Eventually, Harry and Regulus reached Burke's store. Curtains hung over the large front window, and a sign that indicated the store was closed, hung on the door. Despite this, Regulus rapped hard on the door.
"Burke, open up!" he shouted.
No reply came.
"Alright, I'm gonna blast it open then! Three, two…"
The lock clicked. A man's angry face looked through the crack in the door.
"What do you want?" he hissed. "Are you trying to get me killed?"
"Where's Slytherin's locket?" Harry snapped quietly. "Have you sold it to anyone?"
"What is it to you? Maybe I have, maybe I haven't. It's none of your business!"
Harry had had enough. He pushed the door open and thundered inside the confined store. He grabbed Burke by the neck, and pushed him up against one of the cupboards. His wand was pointed at the man's forehead.
"What you're concealing is very dangerous. Unless you want to die, and not by my hand, you'll tell me where that locket is," Harry spoke in a deadly whisper.
"Alright, alright…I didn't sell it. I hid it in the cupboard behind me! It's under a couple of cloaks on the top shelf." Burke said all this very fast.
"Regulus, please keep an eye on him."
Harry threw the owner on the ground. Burke whimpered, but stayed silent and could only watch, as Regulus' wand was pointed at him.
Harry opened the double doors, and looked up. True enough, there were cloaks on the top shelf. However, he couldn't quite see, and decided to feel around for the jewel. Folds of fabric met his hand, as he coursed through, but suddenly, his fingers felt cold metal. With a feeling of triumph, he grasped it.
Unexpectedly, he felt a pull behind his navel, and in a whirl of colour, his feet left the ground, and he was spinning, spinning…
How could the locket be a portkey? He tried to let go of it, but his fingers refused to obey him. Moments later, he landed hard on a stone floor. Where was he?
He shook his head to clear it. In the far end of the room, he saw a tall, skeletally thin, cloaked figure. The skin on the back of his head was pasty white. Thin, clawed hands were clenched in fists, as it hissed.
"Punish Avery first, and then kill him. Disobedience must be punished, and make an example of him."
It didn't take Harry long to figure out who was standing in front of him. He made to duck behind one of the huge vases on his right, but…
"Good evening, Harry Potter. How fortunate of you to come by. I see you found something of mine that you brought as well."
Voldemort's red slit eyes directed their sharp gaze at Harry, who felt a painful twinge in his scar at the eye contact.
"Tell me, Harry, why are you here today? I know what you want to do, but it won't happen. You will die, before you succeed."
"No, Tom, your reckoning will come soon," Harry shot at his adversary. "You'll go to fuckin' Hell, and if be so, you're going there with me!"
Voldemort was unaffected by those threats.
"You're an amazing wizard, Harry Potter. You and I are not so different," spoke the Dark Lord, slowly and icily, looking down at Nagini, his snake, which had coiled itself at Voldemort's feet.
"I'm not like you! You're a murderer!" Harry hissed back, his words dripping with malice.
Voldemort turned his ghostly pale face back towards Harry.
"Well, to each his own. I chose my path, you chose the way of the hero. And they found you amusing for a while,
the people of this wizarding world. But the one thing they love more than a hero is to see a hero fail, fall, die
trying. In spite of everything you've done for them, eventually they will hate you. Why bother?"
"Because it's right," growled Harry, fighting to stay conscious. The pain in his head was becoming more
intense by the second.
"Here's the real truth, Harry Potter. There are millions of wizards in Britain. And those teeming masses exist
for the sole purpose of lifting the few exceptional wizards onto their shoulders. You and me - we're
exceptional."
"I could squash you like a bug right now, but I'm offering you a chance. Join me! Imagine what we could
accomplish together...what we could create. Or we could destroy! Cause the deaths of countless innocents in selfish
battle again and again and again until we're both dead! Is that what you want? Think about it, hero!"
Harry gave a shout, as his scar pulsed with a blinding pain. His last conscious thought was a question - is it worth it?
A/N There's chapter three…it was a lot more difficult to write, but it's twice as long, and I hope you like it. A few reviews would certainly encourage me to continue, so please feel free to write a couple of lines :) As for the next chapter…more about Regulus is coming up, and for Harry - has ol' Voldie convinced him? Stick around to find out…
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