Chapter 10 - Possession
Sunday 17th August 1997
Harry woke with a start as he felt a hand shake his shoulder with some force. He sat up abruptly and tried to get his bearings as he realised that it was Ron who had disturbed him and who had an expression of positive glee on his face.
'Harry, get up! It's Rufus. He says that Death Eater attacked my house and Hermione's. He had Aurors waiting and they have managed to capture twelve of them!'
Harry felt electrified by the tidings. 'Anyone important?' he asked after taking a moment for the news to sink in.
'Not really - only Dolohov that we know of. Still; it's a start.'
'It sure is,' replied Harry. 'Is Rufus here? What time is it?'
'Yes, he's here,' answered Ron, 'and its half past two in the morning. Are you going to get up? Apparently there is a small celebration going on downstairs.'
Harry groggily got to his feet and quickly put on some clothes, grabbing his glasses from the nightstand before following Ron downstairs. When he arrived in the living room, he was amused to see Rufus, James Walsh and Arthur Weasley were doing their level best to put a dent into a bottle of Firewhisky. His amusement was short lived however, as the realisation dawned on him that it was his Firewhisky that they were drinking.
'Hey!' he shouted. 'Where did you get that from?'
The three wizards turned to the source of the voice and smiled broadly as they spotted Harry and Ron. Rufus summoned another two glasses from the kitchen and poured a couple of generous measures.
'We just found it in that cupboard over there,' he said, after handing the glasses over to the two of them. 'I didn't realise it was yours, Harry. Don't worry,' he added with a wink, 'I will replace anything we drink.'
'It's alright, Rufus, you don't have to,' said Harry. 'Besides, I am hearing that we have cause for celebration?'
'We do indeed,' replied Rufus. 'Twelve of them we managed to get. We nearly caught the Lestranges too, but they managed to escape. Never mind - we will get them next time.'
Harry took a sip of his drink and cursed; Bella seemed to lead a charmed life. No matter what happened, she always seemed to get away. 'So what have you done with them?' he finally asked.
'They are being held at the Ministry at the moment, but we will be holding tribunals for them all tomorrow. Where, I imagine, they will receive the maximum penalty available.'
'Executed?' asked Harry.
Rufus nodded. 'Executed, Harry. Some would say that it is only right that they should die.'
Harry took a moment before framing a response. He took another drink. 'I wouldn't,' he finally replied. 'I wouldn't say that they should die. In fact, I would hope that you wouldn't think that either.'
'Why ever not, Harry?' asked Rufus. 'After what they have done, they deserve to die. I'm surprised at you, Harry; they were going after the family of your friends, remember?'
'Of course I remember,' replied Harry, with a touch of anger. 'But this isn't about whether they deserve to die or not; it's about whether we have the right to kill them. Please don't do this, Rufus, I beg you. We will become what we are fighting if we kill them.'
Rufus regarded Harry for a long moment. 'Harry, I think that this is the only language that they will understand. Remember, there have been a few breakouts from Azkaban; this way we can be certain that we don't have any more problems with them.'
'I understand that, Rufus, and I know that I am in no position to make the decision, but what I can do is ask you to reconsider this. Dumbledore would not have wanted you to do this either. I have come to respect you these past few weeks, Rufus, and I would think less of you if you insist on executing these people. That may be of no consequence to you, but I want you consider this; if we manage to win this war, do you think it will be easier for us to reconcile our world if we have killed some of our enemies? Or do you think we might achieve peace by showing some magnanimity?'
Rufus was silent for a long moment. He reached across for the bottle and re-filled his and Harry's glasses. Finally he regarded the young wizard.
'I can make no promises, Harry, but I will think about it. For what it's worth, I value your opinion of me very highly indeed and there are not many people that I can say that about. We will talk no more of this just now, but I will think on what you have said.'
'Thank you,' replied Harry, in a small voice.
'Now,' said Rufus, trying to lighten the mood, 'where do you keep the rest of your whisky, Harry?'
***********
Harry groggily made his way downstairs in order to fetch some breakfast for himself. He was dog-tired and - if he was honest with himself - a little hungover. He needed some food and a strong cup of tea would be most welcome too. The little celebration had gone on a little longer than was prudent.
On entering the living room he was taken aback by just how busy it was. The kitchen table was a mass of red hair and Molly had taken control in the kitchen. He glanced over to the seats by the window and found to his dismay that his usual spot was now occupied by Hermione's parents.
Damn.
Much as he loved the Weasleys, he really hoped that it wasn't too long before they were found alternative accommodation. For one thing, he was missing some quality time with Hermione. This was proving impossible at the moment; the combination of Ginny and Hermione's parents was proving to be too much of an obstacle.
He poured himself a mug of tea and, realising that there was no free seating at the kitchen table, he went over and joined Hermione's parents by the window.
'Good morning,' smiled Mrs Granger. 'I know you are Harry, but we haven't been properly introduced. I'm Helen, and this is my husband, Simon.'
'Pleased to meet you both,' said Harry as he shook hands with both of them. Helen looked at him thoughtfully.
'We had a long chat with Hermione last night, Harry. We finally managed to get her to come clean about what exactly has been happening in your world these past six years. It was quite a tale, but I must confess that I am glad she finally trusted us enough to let us know how much danger she is in. It's just a pity that it took the threat of attack for this to happen.' She sounded quite irked as she said this.
Shit thought Harry. What the hell do I say now? It occurred to him he wasn't making the best of impressions on the Grangers right now. He had been drinking last night and was now nursing a bit of a hangover. Way to go, Potter.
'I wouldn't be too hard on Hermione, Mrs Granger. I'm sure she was only trying to prevent you from worrying about her. It couldn't have been an easy decision for her to make.'
'It's our job to worry,' said Simon, not unkindly. 'I just wish she had told us sooner. She certainly has a very high opinion of you, Harry, although given what she told us you have did, I can't say I blame her.'
'I couldn't have done any of those things without her. If it wasn't for her, I would have been dead a long time ago. You should be proud of her - she is a wonderful person.'
'Thank you for saying that, Harry - we are proud of her,' replied Helen. 'Now is it true what she says? That you are the only one who can stop this madman?'
Harry glanced around before leaning in close, his voice barely audible. 'Yes, it's true; but I would be grateful if you could keep that to yourselves for now.' He paused. 'I didn't ask for any of this - it just landed on me and there was no way I could avoid any of it. Voldemort had me marked from the moment I was born. Hermione - and Ron - are the ones deserving of all the credit. They could have chosen to stay out of this but they didn't. That's real courage - sticking with me when they could have walked away. I couldn't have asked for better friends.'
'I understand, Harry' replied Helen. 'Just do one thing for us please?'
'Anything.'
'There is no point in either me or Simon trying to talk her out of this, much as we would like to. Just make sure she comes out of this unscathed. Bring her back safe to us,' she pleaded.
Harry nodded and looked them in the eye. 'I will die myself before I let anything happen to her. You have my word.'
'Thank you, Harry,' said Helen. 'But take care of yourself too. I get the feeling that Hermione would be quite distraught were anything to happen to you.' She glanced up as she noticed Hermione enter the room. 'We'll say no more about it,' she whispered before Hermione reached them. 'Thank you, Harry.'
The three of them sat back in their chairs as Hermione joined them. She looked first at her parents and then at Harry all of whom were trying to look as nonchalant as possible.
'What's going on?' she finally asked.
**************
An hour later Harry nearly had a heart attack.
He had been enjoying a chat about Quidditch with Ron and the twins (much to Hermione's disapproval) when he nearly fell off his chair as a result of a loud crack followed by the sensation of being smothered. When he finally regained his wits, he realised that the cause of this disturbance was an old friend - Dobby.
The little elf - having released Harry - was now jiggling from one foot to the other, a look of pure delight on his face.
'Harry Potter is alive! Harry Potter is alive! Dobby knew that one so great would not be dead, although he was very upset when he heard the news.' Tears leaked from the eyes of the little elf as he said this.
Harry smiled broadly. 'Hi, Dobby. Good to see you.' He regarded the assortment of woollen clothes that Dobby was wearing. 'You're looking well.'
'Harry Potter is too kind. Dobby is not worthy to be seen with the greatest wizard of all time!'
Harry could feel himself flushing, only too aware of the amused looks he was receiving. Hermione in particular was positively glowing as she regarded the little elf that Harry had set free.
'Thank you, Dobby' he said, 'but I'm just Harry to my friends. Please remember that. Now, what can I do for you, Dobby?'
Dobby looked as if he had just remembered something. He slapped himself on the forehead.
'Headmistress McGonagall has asked Dobby to fetch Harry Potter, sir. She says that she thinks she may have something that you might be interested in. She says to visit her as soon as possible.'
Harry felt a surge of excitement at these words and chanced a glance at Ron and Hermione who both looked at him with an excited glint.
'Does anyone else know of this, Dobby?'
'Only some of the other elves at the castle, Harry Potter, sir. But Harry Potter must not worry. Mistress McGonagall instructed them to say nothing and theys is good elves who obey their masters. Dobby has no master but is proud to keep Headmistress McGonagall's secrets; especially when they concern Harry Potter.'
'Thank you, Dobby,' he replied with a glance at his two friends. 'Can you please tell the Headmistress that we will visit her within the hour?'
'Of course, Harry Potter. Dobby will be only too happy to do this.' And with a crack, he was gone.
Harry was aware of the others in the room all trying to look as if they were doing anything but trying to eavesdrop as he moved over towards Ron and Hermione. He lowered his voice to a whisper.
'Sounds promising. Let's get our things and go.'
***********
Lord Voldemort surveyed the space in the Gaunt shack where his ring used to lie and cursed. This confirmed his suspicions.
Dumbledore. That meddling old fool had somehow stumbled on his secret. No doubt Potter had known about it too before his death. What else could account for the blood traitor and the mudblood having found and destroyed the Horcrux in the grave? He would deal with them soon, before any more damage was done. They would be returning to Hogwarts, wouldn't they? He would have to ensure a particular welcome for them both.
He congratulated himself on making more than one Horcrux - they would never find and destroy all six, notwithstanding the fact that they would still have to defeat him in person. Even if they were to get five, he knew that the sixth was safe. It was rarely out of his sight, and never out of his reach. So far, he now knew that three had been destroyed; his diary, his ring and the grave. It was as well that he had decided to spread himself when he had made his first Horcrux. One should always have a back up.
When all this was over, he might consider making replacements for any that had been destroyed. The murders of the blood traitor and mudblood would be appropriate for the task, he mused. And any of the Weasleys could make up any shortfall.
With one last glance around the shack, he disappeared with a crack.
***********
Harry rapped sharply on the door of Professor McGonagall's office and waited.
'Enter.'
He, Hermione and Ron stepped inside.
'Ah. Good morning. I am glad to see you could get here so soon. Please, sit down and I will fetch us some tea,' said the Headmistress, with a smile.
The three friends sat and shared a quick glance, each struggling to contain their excitement as Minerva fussed over the cups and saucers.
'After you left last Friday, I must confess that I was somewhat at a loss,' she began. 'For the life of me, I could not think of anything in the school that could possibly be what you are looking for; and remember, I have been at Hogwarts for over forty years, so I have more than a little knowledge of the castle. At first I took to searching the castle myself, but after nearly wasting a week I realised I was approaching this problem from the wrong angle. I could search for ever and not find anything; such is the size of this school.'
'So what did you do instead?' asked Ron.
McGonagall looked a little annoyed at the interruption, but carried on.
'I remembered that you said that these Horcruxes were usually placed in an object or location that was significant to Riddle. Not Lord Voldemort, but Riddle. So I decided to pull out his file from the records. It made for most interesting reading. Did you know, for example, that he received an award for special services to the school?'
'I knew that!' exclaimed Ron. 'I had to clean the damn thing in our second year. Do you remember, Harry?' He asked, looking at his friend.
But Harry had gone white as he watched McGonagall reach under her desk to retrieve Riddle's award, which she placed on the flat surface between them.
'Sweet Merlin,' he whispered, awe in his voice. 'The award! Riddle's award!' He turned to Ron and Hermione and noticed the realisation dawn on their faces.
He turned back to face the trophy. 'Specialis Revelio,' he muttered, pointing his wand at the award. A strange purplish/green smoke emanated from the trophy, confirming what Harry already knew.
'Were you correct, Minerva?' asked a voice from above. Harry glanced around and noticed the portrait of Dumbledore looking down of them, curiosity evident on its face.
'Yes. She was correct. Riddle's award for services to the school. It has been here all along, right under our noses,' said Harry, more than a hint of bitterness in his voice.
The portrait of Albus slapped his forehead with his hand. 'Unbelievable,' he said. 'Why didn't I think of that? It's probably the only thing at this school that he would be proud of. Well done, Minerva.'
'He's only proud of it because he got away with murder,' replied Harry. 'And framed Hagrid into the bargain.'
'Exactly,' replied Albus. 'Just the sort of twisted pride he would revel in. He literally got away with murder, and that award is a lasting reminder of the crime. Hidden in plain sight. I may have to rethink some of the assumptions I have been making about these Horcruxes,' he mused aloud. 'So that's four we have found then? The diary, the ring, the locket and now the award?'
Harry shook his head. 'Five. We have destroyed four of them and the award will be next. Snape was correct. There was one at the Riddle grave. We destroyed it yesterday.'
The portrait of Dumbledore looked down on the three teenagers with benevolent pride. He clapped his hands together. 'Oh, well done. Very well done. This is wonderful news.' He actually danced a jig.
'I hate to rain on the parade,' said Harry, 'but Voldemort knows what we are doing.' He went on to explain the events of the previous day; in particular the arrival of Voldemort after Ron had activated the key. Dumbledore's expression hardened somewhat.
'Do not worry, Harry. It was inevitable that he would find out sooner or later. The good news is that we have managed to find five before he discovered this. Also, he did not find out that you are still alive. That element of surprise could prove crucial before the end. Remember; there is only one to get now, and that one was always going to be difficult. You have done better than I could possibly have hoped in such a short time, Harry. So what will you do next?'
Harry picked up the award from McGonagall's desk and examined it. 'Destroy this bloody trophy,' he replied.
***********
The three friends stood around the bed in Hermione's room, Riddle's award placed upon it, no outward sign visible of the evil that lay within. Harry had placed it there upon their return from Hogwarts and now they had to decide what to do next.
'So do we just carve it up with the sword?' asked Ron, looking at Harry.
Harry took a moment before replying. 'I don't know, Ron. This one is a bit different from the locket and the gravestone.' He looked up at his friend. 'We had to open the locket in order to destroy it with the sword and opening it released the soul fragment. The gravestone required the key. There is nothing to open here; the soul fragment is of this object; strictly speaking, it's not in it. It's more akin to the diary I think.'
'How did you destroy the diary?' asked Hermione.
'I just rammed the basilisk fang straight through it. But in that instance, Riddle's soul fragment was already loose - it was controlling Ginny, remember?' He ignored the shudder from Ron and Hermione. 'My main concern is that it would appear that we can't attack the soul fragment directly - we can only destroy it by destroying the object, and it would seem that we can't destroy the object because it is protected by the soul fragment. We have to separate them from each other.' He sighed in frustration. 'It's a Catch 22 situation.'
'But you destroyed the locket,' said Ron, sounding confused. 'What's a Catch 22 situation anyway?' he added as an afterthought.
Harry and Hermione shared a look.
'I'll let Hermione explain that one to you later. Anyway, we couldn't destroy the locket until we had opened it. You battered it with the sword and didn't even scratch it. It was only vulnerable once we got it open, but we can't 'open' this thing.'
'I see what you are getting at, Harry,' began Hermione, slowly. 'The soul fragment was protecting the locket, and the only way to break the protection was to open it, release the soul fragment and thereby sever the link between them?'
'Exactly,' replied Harry. 'It could only be opened by someone who could speak Parceltongue. That's a powerful protection; how many known Parcelmouths are there?'
'Not many,' replied Hermione, 'and if you count only those not descended from Salazar Slytherin, not any. Apart from you, that is.'
Harry nodded. 'So it would have been virtually impossible for anyone else to destroy that Horcrux, even with the sword.'
'So what do we do then?' asked Ron.
Harry looked grim. 'We lure it out, Ron. We lure it out and destroy the trophy.'
***********
Monday 18th August 1997
Harry sat on the sofa by the window and stared into space. He was enjoying a few moments peace whilst Hermione pored over some research books in the house library. She had went back to Hogwarts after their discussion yesterday and had returned with a stack of books that she thought would help her discover some method of luring the soul fragment out of the trophy and had then disappeared into the library, only coming out to eat and sleep.
Their other 'guests' in the house were nowhere to be seen. Rufus had sent Sukey to tell them that new safe houses were being prepared and would be ready in a day or two. He suspected that in the interim, someone had asked everyone to give Harry, Ron and Hermione plenty of space and privacy. Probably Remus, he thought. It was a big enough house anyway, and had parts that he had not even explored properly yet.
He glanced over to Ron who was lying on the floor in front of the fire and could not suppress a smile. His friend was currently engrossed in reading 'Catch 22'; a copy of which Hermione had procured for him yesterday. She had given up trying to explain and had instead managed to locate a copy amongst the many volumes that could be found in the library of The Briars. Ron had looked appalled at the prospect of reading for pleasure, but once he began, he quickly became hooked. The only problem was his incessant questions about certain Muggle objects and habits that he had no clue about.
His reverie was interrupted as Hermione entered the room with a mixture of excitement and fear visible on her face. She carried a large volume in her hand.
'Harry, Ron? Do you have a minute? I think I have found something.'
Ron immediately put down his book and crossed the room to sit on his usual chair. Hermione joined Harry on the couch and placed the book on the table in front of her. Harry glanced at the title - Magick Moste Evile - and suppressed a shudder.
'There is virtually nothing in print about Horcruxes,' she began, 'only a few vague references to them. Even this book only mentions them as something that should not be spoken of, and this book is as about as bad as magic books get. I wasted a good few hours looking for more information on them before I realised that I was approaching this from the wrong angle.'
'In what way?' asked Ron.
'I was looking for information on Horcruxes when it occurred to me that I should be looking for information on possession. It was something Harry said yesterday that put the thought into my head. 'It was controlling Ginny.' That's what had lured the Riddle in the diary out - the prospect of possessing someone and taking their form. It occurred to me that although the soul fragments all come from Riddle; they are separate entities and can think and act for themselves. If they couldn't then the diary Riddle would not have been able to do what it did.'
'So? What does that prove?' asked Ron.
Hermione gave him what could only be described as a 'dangerous' look before replying. 'It proves that the fragment of Riddle's soul in the trophy will try to possess a human body if given the chance. That's how we lure it out.'
'How do we do that?' asked Harry. 'How do we make it think that it has a chance of possessing someone?'
Hermione opened the book to a page previously marked. 'By actually giving it the chance. Read this.'
Harry and Ron leaned forward to read the highlighted text.
Whilst it has been frowned upon since the earliest days, the possession of a human form by a spirit or ghost has not been uncommon. Often, grieving relatives would allow the ghost form of the deceased to temporarily possess their body in order to allow the deceased to once again enjoy the tangible pleasures of living that had been denied to them by their passing. The ability to touch; to eat - even to love were enabled by this process, although it was not without danger. By submitting to possession, the living host was forever running the risk that the deceased would refuse to relinquish control. Despite the danger, there have been examples of those willing to host a spirit.
The actual spellwork involved in such a dangerous undertaking is surprisingly simple, but the spellwork is not sufficient on its own. The incantation - Usus Meus Somes - is only the first part of what is an extremely powerful process. In order for the spell to succeed, the potential host must be completely willing to allow possession. If this willingness is not present, the ghost or spirit will not be able to take possession.
Harry stopped reading and looked at Hermione in disbelief. 'Are you actually suggesting that I try and lure Riddle out of that trophy by offering myself as a host to be possessed?' The incredulity in his voice was apparent.
'No,' replied Hermione. Harry looked nonplussed. 'I'm suggesting that I try to lure him out,' she corrected.
An appalled silence greeted these words.
'Absolutely not,' said Harry.
'I knew you would say that so…' began Hermione.
'NO!' shouted Harry.
'IT'S NOT ALWAYS UP TO YOU TO DECIDE THESE THINGS, HARRY,' yelled Hermione in response. She calmed herself. 'It's not always up to you,' she repeated. 'You will be needed to actually destroy the trophy once the soul fragment is lured out. We know that the sword answers to you, Harry. It may not work the same for me or Ron. So it can't be you that acts as bait.'
The two of them held eye contact, each defying the other to break off first. The tension between them was palpable, and Harry was determined not to allow this madness. He opened his mouth to speak, but was interrupted by Ron.
'You two seem to be forgetting something,' Ron said. He ignored the sudden hostile looks from his two friends and ploughed on. 'Hermione's right, Harry; you have to be the one to wield the sword so you can't be the bait.' He turned to Hermione, noticing the triumphant look on her face. 'It can't be you either, Hermione.'
She looked shocked. 'Why not?'
'Because you are a Muggle born. A 'mudblood' to Riddle. Do you think it was a coincidence that he wanted to possess Ginny when she had the diary? He could have taken a go at Harry once he had it but he didn't. He preferred the pure-blood Ginny to the half-blood Harry. Do you really think he would settle for a Muggle born? It will have to be me. I'm the only pure-blood amongst us.'
Harry and Hermione had no response to this, each staring open mouthed at their friend.
'It's no use sitting there like a pair of stranded fish; you both know I am right.' He stood up. 'And if you cock this up I will spend eternity haunting the pair of you myself, so you had better kiss and make up and tell me what I need to do,' he added as he walked off towards his room.
********
Harry and Hermione sat looking at one another in silence for a few minutes. Harry knew he had cocked up - again - and he was desperately trying to think of some way to make amends. It occurred to him that this was the 'meeting Snape' argument all over again. Strangely, this realisation seemed to help him see the way clear.
'I'm sorry,' he finally said, quietly. She looked at him, an eyebrow raised questioningly.
'I'm sorry,' he repeated. 'I understand why you are angry. You were right; it isn't up to me what happens here. I just don't want to place you in any more danger than necessary, but I realise that you think the same about me. If we are going to succeed in this, I guess there will be a few things that we have to do that I don't like.' He looked directly at her. 'I'm not going to lie to you though; I'm glad that it's Ron that will have to do this instead of you. He is right, you know.'
Hermione took a moment before replying. 'I know he is right. I hadn't thought about that.' She sounded disappointed. 'It might be hard for you to understand, Harry, but I want to do something to help. It always seems to be you taking the risks and I worry that you push your luck too often. I want to share the risks with you so that your odds of survival improve. Can you understand that? Can you understand that I want to make a contribution?'
'I do understand, Hermione. But don't underestimate yourself. We wouldn't have gotten this far without you. Who discovered Regulus? Who worked out that we had to use the sword? Who discovered a way of luring the Horcrux from the trophy? You did, Hermione. All your work, so don't ever think that you don't make a contribution. I would have been dead a long time ago if it weren't for you.'
'But that's nothing but looking up information in books. That's hardly a contribution.'
'Don't you get it?' asked Harry. 'Don't you understand that neither I nor Ron can do what you do? Besides, I wouldn't worry about getting your share of danger; when this comes to the end, you will be right in the thick of it. We will need all your abilities then.' He reached over and took her hand. 'Take this situation for example. We need you to show Ron what he has to do. I can't do it and - Merlin knows - Ron won't have a clue either. We depend on you for this kind of thing. Please understand how important this is to us.'
She looked into his eyes for a moment before finally nodding acceptance at his words. She leaned in and allowed herself to be held in his arms, and almost immediately, she felt better. It was as if he could keep the world at bay with his embrace. She nuzzled into his chest.
'Thanks, Harry.'
'What for?'
'For being you,' she replied. She waited a moment in his arms, enjoying the sensation for just a bit longer.
'C'mon,' she added, giving him a quick kiss. 'We had better go and show Ron what he needs to do.'
*********
'So are you sure you know what you have to do?' asked Hermione, a concerned look on her face as she gazed at Ron. They were now situated in the Gryffindor common room, deciding that it was not possible to try this in a house full of people. It should have been a pleasant experience for them to be back in their usual armchairs in front of the common room fire, but the presence of Riddle's Horcrux on the table in the far corner of the room took any delight out of the situation.
'For the tenth time, Hermione; yes, I'm sure I know what I have to do,' replied Ron.
Hermione looked over to Harry. 'Ready?'
'As ready as I'll ever be. What about you? This isn't an easy spell.'
'I know, Harry, but I think I will be OK,' replied Hermione.
Harry frowned, his expression clearly demonstrating his anxiety. The problem was that the three of them would have to act in unison for this to work. Hermione had repeatedly gone over the spell with Ron and whilst he had seemed to master the actual practicalities of it, he had hit upon a problem.
'The book says that the host has to be completely willing to be possessed. I don't know if I will be able to pull this off.'
Harry and Hermione had looked askance at him, so Ron had elaborated.
'Look; I want to destroy this soul fragment as much as anyone, but no matter how hard I try, there will always be a part of me that does not want possessed. All of me, if I'm honest. The problem is, whilst I want to succeed in luring Riddle out, I don't want to succeed in being possessed. The magic won't work if that's the case, will it? I mean, the soul fragment will sense my reluctance, and won't come out.'
Unfortunately, Hermione had completely agreed with Ron. That it was probably the first time in years that they had actually agreed on something was of no consolation to Harry. Then Hermione had offered the solution.
'The Imperius curse,' she had said.
'What about it?' asked Ron.
'I'll have to perform the Imperius curse on you. That way I can make you willing to be possessed. I don't think Riddle will be able to tell the difference.'
And so they had decided to try it. Hermione would control Ron; Ron would summon the spirit and Harry would destroy the trophy once it had emerged. Simple really.
Yeah, right, thought Harry. Simple in the way that everything was simple, in theory. Right before it hit the brick wall of reality.
He forgot his reservations and concentrated fully as Hermione indicated that she was about to begin. She nodded to her friends, pointed her wand at Ron and said 'Imperius!'
A placid expression was immediately visible on Ron's face. He smiled dreamily, rose from his seat and walked over to the corner of the room where the trophy was lying propped on the table against the wall. Hermione slid behind a sofa and crouched down out of sight. They had decided that it would be simpler if the soul fragment was not distracted by the presence of other people. Harry stood at the other side of the entrance to the dormitory stairs, the sword gripped tightly in his right hand, his wand in the other.
Ron raised his wand and pointed it at the trophy.
'Usus Meus Somes!' he cried, no hint of doubt in his tone.
Nothing happened for a moment, and then - as if in a surreal dream - an eye appeared in the centre of the trophy. A black malevolent eye that rotated slowly, taking in the surroundings.
'Who dares to summon me?' it hissed. It looked directly at Ron. 'I sense no fear in this one. Strange, he should fear me.'
Ron said nothing, his expression still dream like.
'I do, however, sense fear in this room,' continued the voice, mockingly. 'Perhaps it is from whomever is behind that sofa over there; or maybe even from the wretch who is standing at the foot of the stairs?'
Harry was stunned, and glancing across at Hermione, he saw the look of pure, naked fear on her features. He decided to take action, and stepped out from his hiding place. The eye laughed.
'Congratulations,' said Harry. 'It would seem that we do not give you enough credit. Allow me to express my admiration for your abilities,' he added. 'It's OK, Hermione - you can come out now. He knows we are here.'
Hermione gingerly stepped out from behind the sofa, lowering her wand as she did so and removing the curse from Ron, who immediately recoiled from the eye, an expression of horror on his face.
'Now I can sense his fear,' sneered the voice. 'You thought to snare me with such a simple ploy? Fools! Do you not realise that I know all?'
Harry licked his lips, considering his options. He suspected that if he moved to destroy the trophy then the eye would simply disappear and all chance would be lost. He looked directly at the eye, trying to suppress his fear.
'Potter,' the voice hissed. 'And yet not Potter. The Potter I knew did not have green eyes. You would be the spawn of that Muggle loving fool?' it asked.
'I am the son of James Potter,' confirmed Harry, 'and I am here to destroy you, Riddle. Know that four of your brothers are destroyed. You are not as powerful as you think.'
This seemed to check the eye for a moment. It was silent, obviously considering its next move.
'But you will not destroy me,' it finally hissed. 'I shall not be drawn out. You must know that you can only destroy me by destroying my trophy; and that you cannot destroy the trophy so long as I reside within. Your quest ends here, son of Potter.'
That's what the other one called me, thought Harry, annoyed at the irrelevancy. He had no idea what to do and found himself becoming increasingly angry at the fear and impotence he felt. At that moment he felt a surge of hatred for everything that Tom Riddle stood for; for everything he had done and planned to do; for the destroyed lives and the needless deaths. He decided to try one last desperate attempt.
'You will be destroyed,' he said, his voice like doom. 'You will be drawn out.' He raised his wand and pointed it at the eye.
'Accio, Riddle!" he cried.
The voice laughed scornfully. 'You think you can summon me? Summon one who has explored magic beyond the realms of your imagination. You have no idea…'
The voice tailed off. It tailed off because it was experiencing a sudden pull; a force that was compelling it to leave the sanctuary of the trophy.
'How are you doing this?' it hissed.
Harry ignored it, instead concentrating his entire will on summoning the spirit. The sweat started to streak down his brow, and his arm was beginning to tremble with the stress.
'Harry, what are you doing?' screeched Hermione. She watched appalled as a black mist slowly began to emerge from the trophy; a black mist that was gradually forming into the recognizable form of Tom Riddle as it was inexorably drawn towards Harry.
'Fool!' hissed the voice, straining with every word as it strove to break free from Harry's summons. 'I will possess you if you persist with this folly. I would rather not lower myself to take your form, but I will if you insist upon this madness. And then I will destroy your companions. It will be your fault, Potter; you have decreed their fate with this insanity.'
Hermione?' gasped Harry, the strain evident. 'Take the sword. As soon as he is clear of the trophy, you must destroy it.'
'But, Harry, we don't even know if it will work for me,' she pleaded. 'Stop this! Let it go, it's not worth it!'
'Damn it, Hermione! Are you a Gryffindor or not?' he demanded, his voice cracking. 'Take the bloody sword!'
His anger seemed to propel her into action. With a determined look on her face, she approached him and took the sword from his hand. As soon as she did, he moved his free hand to his wand so that he could now fight the strain with both. 'Stab it as soon as it is clear,' he said through gritted teeth.
She watched with a horrible fascination as the form of Riddle was gradually drawn free of the trophy. She knew that it did not want to leave its shelter and was fighting Harry tooth and nail; but she also knew that if it sensed defeat then it would quickly move to control Harry. She drew nearer to it, sword raised in her hands.
By this point Ron realised that he must do something to help. He stood next to Harry and drew his own wand. 'Accio, Riddle!' he cried, adding his own essence to the struggle. The added power seemed to make a difference as the spirit form of Riddle - now confused as to whom to possess, was pulled just that little bit further from its shelter. Sensing defeat, it finally decided to act. With a speed that terrified the three friends, it suddenly struck out straight for Harry.
Harry watched in horror as the black form shot towards him. Time seemed to have slowed down as the spirit Riddle shouted in triumph as it careered straight for him. Its cry was transformed into an agonising howl however, as Hermione - moving faster than she ever thought possible - drove the point of the sword directly into the heart of the trophy where the eye had first appeared. The trophy split into fragments, its power broken and as she turned, the feeling of dread in her heart was transformed into one of joy as the spirit of Tom Riddle reared up and screamed in agony, before finally disappearing into thin air. She felt at that moment that she could do anything; take on anyone, such was her elation.
It was abruptly cut short however, for it was precisely at that moment that Harry collapsed.
***********
Lord Voldemort looked down upon the receptacle that had once contained the locket of the mighty Slytherin and struggled to contain his anger. He knew for certain now that Dumbledore had discovered his secret for that was now four of his Horcruxes that had been destroyed.
The one at Hogwarts will probably be gone too, he surmised. He would not be able to ascertain if this was indeed true until they took the castle, but he knew to always assume the worst; especially when dealing with Dumbledore.
That interfering old fool, he raged. But he was dead now. He hoped that it had been in the search for his Horcruxes that his enemy had been weakened enough to be destroyed by Severus. Indeed, he now thought this likely and this knowledge assuaged his rage somewhat.
Dumbledore was dead. Potter was dead. Were their deaths worth the loss of five of his Horcruxes? Yes, they were, he decided. He could always make more, but the enemy could never hurt him again.
With that thought, the Dark Lord Apparated back to his manor.