The Most Beautiful Witch Chapter 44 (Patreon)

Through the open doors, the Room of Requirement stood filled with untold treasure. There must have been centuries of accumulated items stored in this cavernous room, but there was only one object on Harry’s mind tonight.

“I never knew a place like this existed in Hogwarts,” Sirius said as he stared upon the vast room in amazement. “You could get lost in here.”

“We probably will if we’re not careful,” Anastasia pointed out. “We’ll need to be mindful of where the entrance is at all times. If the horcrux really is in here, then who knows what sorts of other dangerous things could be lurking about.”

“Speaking of which, we should stay in our groups,” Daphne said. “If any of us do stumble into something dangerous, it’ll be good to have backup close at hand.”

“Agreed,” Cyrus nodded. “And if we do find anything, we’ll send up sparks to let you know to come to our position.”

It was decided then. Harry was practically overwhelmed with excitement as he walked through the threshold. They were so close to completing the one challenge that he’d never wanted but needed to finish if he wanted to live a normal life with the women he loved.

He couldn’t get ahead of himself though. This room was beyond expansive. The towering piles of clutter each seemed more likely than the last to suddenly topple over and create a big mess, shifting the walls of the maze-like layout. Trying to even come up with a system to search through this place would be a pain, and it was easy for people to make mistakes and miss something obvious.

“Remember, the diadem is somewhere near books with covers made out of real leather, some smashed-in cabinets filled with old robes, and a pile of wands in a brass tub,” Harry said to everyone. “And the diadem itself was maybe head height or somewhere around that.”

Sirius clapped his hands together. “Let’s get started.”

Instinctively, Sirius, Anastasia, and Cyrus went right while Harry and Daphne went left. They started down a narrow passageway that had an archway made out of broken brooms to welcome them in.

“This place is immense,” Daphne muttered. “How did this all get here do you think?”

“Could be that anything vanished at Hogwarts ends up here,” Harry suggested as he twisted his body to slide carefully in between identical stacks of books entitled: The Story of Hogwarts, 1845 Revised Edition. Somehow, it got even narrower as they passed by old, stained mattresses and a pile of bowler hats.

“Anything vanished from magic like that simply ceases to exist,” Daphne corrected him.

“Could be the house-elves then,” Harry shrugged. “They clean up the castle. Maybe they need a place to store things. Do let me know if you see any hand-knit socks and letters written by Hermione insisting that the house-elves should be freed.”

“I can’t believe that they’re here in the castle with us right now. We should go visit them if we get the chance. It’d be good to have some friendly faces around,” Daphne said.

“Yeah, it would,” he agreed. After all this was done, it would be nice to spend more time with them again. Things would never be the same as they once had been, but after their reconciliation, he hoped that they would have a chance at a proper new beginning without the spectre of death looming overhead constantly.

It barely took a minute before they reached their first junction. Harry had hoped to try to keep things relatively smooth by following a pattern of following relatively-vertical pathways through the maze, but he only had options to go directly left or vaguely forward and right. Knowing that the other group had gone to the right, it was only prudent to scan the far-left side first.

They scoured through the tight lanes, checking over everything carefully for any sign of what Harry had seen in his vision. It only took a few more minutes before they reached the far end of the room and then turned back around, veering off onto new paths.

Dust covered everything. So much of this place seemed utterly untouched by anyone. Harry was amazed to find what he assumed to be prototype broomsticks made of knobbly wooden branches and unkempt twigs. He was tempted to take one for a flight but kept on moving forward.

Daphne was more interested in the artefacts themselves. The rich history of Britain and its magical families that she’d been brought up learning came to the fore as she recognised books written by ancient members of certain houses and even a few pieces of jewellery potentially being famed lost relics. She started collecting certain items that she thought might be of interest in the distant future once all of this was done with.

The excitement that’d first drove him started to fade as time continued to tick forward. But he relied upon his steely resolve to ensure that this task was completed.

Eventually, he rounded a corner where he recognised something.

“Isn’t this the Vanishing Cabinet that Fred and George shoved Graham Montague into last year?” Harry asked, noting the runes carved into the door.

“It could be,” Daphne murmured, looking curiously at it. “Or it could be a part of another set. It’s impossible to tell unless you put something inside and send it through to the other cabinet.”

“I’ve always thought that it’d be neat to have one of these,” Harry admitted. “Putting one on the top floor and one on the main floor of Grimmauld Place would save us a lot of stair climbing.”

Daphne laughed. “Where would we get all of our exercise in otherwise?”

“I can think of a few ways,” Harry wiggled his eyebrows at her.

“Focus,” she giggled. “We’ve a diadem to find.”

Harry shook off the tediousness of the task and focused his mind. She was right; they only had so many hours before the students at Hogwarts would wake up, and they needed to be gone by then so that they didn’t cause a stir.

They turned back towards the front, venturing down a relatively straight path until they hit a dead end.

When they turned back towards the junction, they continued on past the Vanishing Cabinet for just a few steps before Harry came to a sharp stop.

Right to his left sat the tub filled with old wands.

“It’s here,” Harry exclaimed as he pointed his wand to the ceiling and shot up sparks. They exploded noisily overhead, but Harry was already busy searching the area.

He found the pile of books with leather covers and noted the distance between them and the tub of wands. Then, he spun around and looked straight at the point that the two objects intersected.

Sitting atop a bust of an elderly warlock was a silvery diadem and an ugly wig. Harry tore the fake hair aside, leaving the diadem right where it was. It was an intricately-made thing with interweaving strands of silver with text scrawled upon it. Harry knew instantly what it was.

“Wingardium Leviosa,” he said with a flick of his wand.

The diadem levitated off of the busy and into the bag that Daphne had hung from her hip. She sealed it away just as Sirius, Anastasia, and Cyrus arrived.

“You found it?” Sirius asked.

Daphne lightly shook the bag to show it off. “We’ve got it,” she beamed.

“Then we need to get this back home right away,” Sirius exclaimed.

The Sword of Gryffindor was waiting for them. One slice and then they’d be down to Voldemort’s final horcrux: the snake.

Harry still wasn’t certain as to how they would take on a creature like that. Unlike the other horcruxes, it was intelligent. At least, he assumed it was. If the horcrux was contained within a living, breathing thing, it must surely still be able to act in accordance with its own will. If it didn’t eat, then it’d starve, and the horcrux would die. Or would it remain in the body’s decomposing form?

These were questions that Harry didn’t have answers too.

Astoria was the most well-educated person on horcruxes that he knew. Maybe she’d have an answer to the question.

He supposed that it didn’t matter in the end. The snake needed to die one way or another. If Voldemort kept it close to him, then it was likely that Harry would encounter it at some point. If it was kept elsewhere… the easiest solution would be to begin searching through the manors of pure-blood witches and wizards who were aligned with Voldemort.

They hurried back out of the Room of Requirement, deftly making their way through the narrow corridors between stack of junk before they found the exit. Then, it was a short jaunt to return back to Dumbledore’s Office.

The stone gargoyle leapt aside at their approach, granting them access to the spiralling staircase that took them steadily upwards.

Dumbledore’s office doors were sealed shut as they approached. Harry tried to push them open, but they refused his force.

Frowning, Daphne knocked loudly on the door. “Astoria? Dumbledore?”

There was a rumble from within.

“Just a moment,” Dumbledore’s voice faintly called back.

The doors swung open. Dumbledore was still sat behind his desk with his usual unreadable expression. Several open tomes were stacked upon his desk next to a long sheet of parchment and a pair of quills dunked in inkwells. Across from him sat Astoria, staring down into her lap.

It wasn’t until Harry stepped inside Dumbledore’s Office that he truly noticed Astoria’s face. Even though she wasn’t looking at him, he could see the telltale sign of tear streaks running down her cheeks. They were dry right now, but as he dropped to his knees at her side, he could see the tears welling in her eyes once again.

“What’s wrong, my love?” He whispered sweetly as he wrapped his arms around her.

Astoria opened her lips and choked on the words she tried to spill. Her hand slapped across her mouth as she buried her chin against her chest and sobbed.

Utterly puzzled and worried, Harry looked up at Dumbledore, who gave a grandfatherly smile in return.

“This is a… complicated matter,” Dumbledore began. “One that I had not hoped to address for some time. Yet, I fear that I have been less than diligent in ensuring that you are adequately prepared for the battle to come.”

Harry frowned. “I would prefer if you could speak plainly. What is it that you’re alluding to?”

“You,” Astoria blubbered out, crying into her hands.

Daphne swept down and appeared at Astoria’s other side. She wrapped her arms around her and started whispering comforting words as Sirius, Anastasia, and Cyrus filed into the room. The latter two were looking quite concerned over Astoria’s complete breakdown. She was trying to speak, but every word came out like a blubbery mess.

As Harry stood up, Anastasia took his place. She hugged her daughter tightly and tried to comfort her too, but nothing seemed to work.

“What the hell happened since we’ve been gone?” Harry asked, concern filling his voice, looking to Dumbledore for answers.

Dumbledore offered him a mournful smile. “It’s about the horcruxes. Astoria had a surprisingly well-versed understanding of them, and she had many difficult questions that she wanted answers to.”

Astoria was too distraught to answer anything even when she met Harry’s gaze for a moment. She was sobbing inconsolably, and all he could do was hold onto her and offer what little support that he could.”

“Quit burying the lede and tell us what’s going on,” Sirius demanded.

Dumbledore leaned back in his seat and examined everyone carefully for a few moments. “Voldemort has a seventh horcrux. It was created the night that he killed Lily and James Potter, and the horcrux resides inside of Harry’s scar.”

Harry blinked slowly, uncertain if what he’d heard was actually real or not. It felt so farcical. Voldemort’s horcruxes were objects, not people. He supposed that there was a horcrux inside of a snake, but how could there be one inside of him? A horcrux was a part of a soul. How could Harry have his own and part of Voldemort’s inside of him at the same time? It just didn’t make sense.

How?

“It was an idea I had not truly reconciled until I overheard of your episodes around other horcruxes,” Dumbledore admitted. “There can be instabilities when two horcruxes are nearby one another; it is why Voldemort has never hidden multiple in the same place. While he can remain near his own horcruxes without issue, anytime two are placed near each other, there will be a magical resonance that forms. The matter is far more complicated than I am explaining, but the fact remains that I became suspicious after hearing about these episodes.

“The ritual was the real test. I developed it based on the assumption that horcruxes maintained a connection with one another. However, delving into that connection to view another horcrux required us to overpower it. In short, we needed to utilise two horcruxes to connect into the soul of a third. The fact that the ritual worked confirmed to me that you were a horcrux.”

“And you didn’t tell him?!” Sirius shouted, exploding with energy. Were it not for Cyrus grabbing his arm, Sirius would’ve lunged at the elderly wizard. “Lily and James fought for you! Died for you! And you’d disrespect them like this?”

“When I learnt of the truth, I began searching for a way to save Harry,” Dumbledore argued. “I truly believed that nothing good would come of revealing his status as a horcrux.”

“That’s not something that you should’ve decided on your own,” Daphne spoke up, her voice eerily quiet. “He spent so much time fighting with you over needing support and information. Each day that Draco tormented us at Hogwarts, Harry was begging for your help. You kept Lucius’ plans to interfere at Hogwarts a secret from him when he needed you most. And just when you started to finally open up and tell him things, you decided to keep this from him?”

“All that we have ever known about horcruxes is that they must be utterly destroyed. I have never wanted to see Harry hurt, let alone dead. I wanted to come to you all with a solution to this problem,” Dumbledore explained.

“So, there’s no solution except for Harry to die?” Sirius asked in disbelief.

“Not quite,” Dumbledore answered, glancing down at Astoria. “There is a way that I believe will work. After Astoria uncovered that Harry was a horcrux on her own, she wanted to ask me about ways to save him. My answer was… less than desirable.”

Astoria’s shoulders shook as Harry hugged her tighter. If what Dumbledore was saying was true…

Merlin, why was he even trying to deny it in his mind? If Dumbledore said it was so and Astoria had come to the same conclusion, then it had to be right.

He was a horcrux and had to be destroyed.

It was a more comforting feeling than Harry had expected. Ever since he’d faced off against Voldemort in the graveyard and truly understood the difference between their magical abilities, he’d known that it was a very real, if not likely, possibility that he would die at the hands of the evilest wizard that Britain had ever faced. He’d spent nights fretting over what that would mean for those that he left behind, and it drove him to try his best to improve his skills.

And now that he understood that his own death was inevitable in order to bring about an end to Voldemort, it felt like a tremendous amount of weight was being lifted off of his shoulders.

But the lingering regret remained over what his future with Astoria and Daphne could’ve been like.

From the very start of this quest, he’d been fighting for a future for him and the two great loves of his life. He wanted to live long, happy, fruitful lives with them at his side. He wanted to share the ups and downs of life with them, the development of their future careers, building a home, and having children together.

Now, it all felt so very out of reach.

But so long as they could live through this war…

Even if he died, knowing that they’d get to live on would be more than worth it.

“What do you think has to happen?” Sirius asked carefully, like the wrong answer would trigger an explosion that’d ruin everything.

“I believe that Voldemort must be the one to kill Harry,” Dumbledore explained patiently. “Lily’s blood imbued a protection within Harry that Voldemort took in the moment he used Harry’s blood to resurrect himself. If Voldemort were to kill Harry, then I believe that this protection would continue to protect Harry and instead direct Voldemort’s magic to eliminate the horcrux within Harry instead. If anyone else were to kill Harry, then I fear that they’d kill his soul rather than the horcrux.”

“So, you expect Harry to walk like a lamb to the slaughter?” Sirius continued in utter disbelief.

“I do not believe that he would die in the process,” Dumbledore replied, albeit with a fair degree of hesitancy.

“But do you know for certain?” Daphne asked.

Harry finally looked up from Astoria to see that Daphne too had tears brimming at the edge of her eyelids, threatening to spill over should the wrong words be said. He wanted to tell her that it’d all be okay, that everything was going to work out for the best, but he couldn’t bring himself to do it. Even if he was willing to accept that he would have to die to defeat Voldemort, he couldn’t promise Daphne or Astoria that everything was going to be okay.

“I do not,” Dumbledore admitted plainly. “Horcruxes are a piece of magic with very little documentation upon them. One being inside of a living being is something new entirely; it has been theorised about but never done before now. We are acting without precedent, but my supposition is not unsound. There are precedents in other veins of magic that exist to support my belief.”

“And the only way to test it is to put my godson’s life on the line?” Sirius snorted. “That’s not happening.”

“The chance of anything going wrong is slight,” Dumbledore tried to assure him. “I would not have suggested this as an idea did I not—”

Suddenly, as everyone stared on in a mixture of surprise and incredulity, Daphne leapt across Dumbledore’s desk and punched him right across his chin. The blow was so sudden and staggering that Dumbledore’s chair tipped backwards, but Daphne was already pouncing on top of him, letting her fists slam down again and again across the old man’s face.

“You knew and weren’t going to say a bloody thing?” Daphne raged as Cyrus and Anastasia rushed around Dumbledore’s desk to grab her. Even as they scooped her up by her arms, she still managed to land a sharp kick into Dumbledore’s side. “You knew for weeks now that Harry was a horcrux and you kept it from us, you bastard!”

“Daphne, it’s—” Harry began to say.

“Don’t you dare say that it’s okay,” she interrupted him with a fierce glower as she was pulled back towards Harry and Astoria. “It’s not. Dumbledore’s kept this from all of us for too long! It’s not fair! Imagine all the time we could’ve had left—”

“Don’t say that!” Astoria shouted, her voice piercing through all of the noise. “Harry’s not going to die! I’m not going to let it happen.”

Dumbledore struggled to his feet, resting his weight upon his desk. “It was never my intent for Harry to actually perish in the attempt to cleanse the horcrux from his body.”

“Your intent means nothing,” Daphne spat furiously. She struggled against her parents’ grip to no avail.

“I’m going to find a way to fix you!” Astoria said as she turned to finally face Harry.

He just hugged her. Her words truly didn’t mean much to him in the moment. If he had to die to help Astoria and Daphne live a life without Voldemort, then he would willingly make that sacrifice.

Right now, Astoria’s words were just that. There was no basis behind them to make such a promise, but he believed in her sincerity nonetheless.

“Of course you will,” he reassured her, not entirely believing himself.

It took a while before Astoria and Daphne calmed back down. Dumbledore seemingly took no offence to Daphne’s attack and even promised Astoria that if she wished to continue her attempts to find an alternative means of saving Harry’s life that she was welcome to do so at Hogwarts. The library would be open to her after hours once all of the students had gone to bed, and even Daphne was able to join her if she so wished.

Cyrus murmured his apologies to Dumbledore over Daphne’s sudden attack, but the headmaster brushed them off. He understood well enough the significance of what he’d said.

“I truly wish there was another way,” Dumbledore told Harry as everyone was getting ready to take the floo back to Grimmauld Place.

“I understand,” Harry replied. “But you still should’ve said something before now.”

“I had hoped that I would not have to,” Dumbledore admitted. “It is difficult enough to see you in such a circumstance. I did not want to be the one to sentence you to your possible death.”

“So you just hoped that everything would sort itself out when I faced Voldemort again?”

“Magic has a way of making things work out the way they were always supposed to,” Dumbledore said.

“Maybe magic wanted me to know before going into it, so that I could fully understand what I was sacrificing by giving up my life,” Harry retorted.

“Maybe,” Dumbledore agreed, suddenly looking like he’d aged a decade in a matter of seconds. “I do hope that you’ll one day forgive me for this. I… I only did what I thought was best.”

“I know,” Harry replied. He knew enough of Dumbledore’s behaviour to not be shocked by such an admission anymore. “And for what it’s worth, I hope that Astoria finds a way to save me that doesn’t lead to me potentially dying in the process.”

“So do I,” Dumbledore smiled weakly.

The six of them took the floo back to Grimmauld Place.

The second that they were spit out of the flames, Astoria practically sprinted out of the room to the stairwell. Daphne was stony faced as she watched Astoria disappear, but then Harry took her hand and pulled her along as he followed Astoria’s path.

She was up in the library sitting in front of her usual table that was covered in books. They were all the texts on horcruxes that Grimmauld Place had as well as several others that Harry didn’t recognise. They must’ve come from Dumbledore’s Office.

“I’m going to find a way to put this all right,” Astoria declared as she scanned across the books.

Despite her hopeful words, she seemed utterly helpless with what she had to work with. If Dumbledore hadn’t found a source that could help him, then what hope did Astoria have?

“I’ll help you,” Daphne said, pulling out of Harry’s grip and finding a spot next to the table beside her sister.

“You two don’t need to do this,” Harry murmured to them. “It’s okay if—”

“Not another word,” Daphne warned him, her eyes pulsing with anger. “I don’t care if every second we spend in here comes to nothing. We’re not letting you go without a fight.”

Astoria nodded slowly. “I’ve never loved anyone the way I’ve loved you, Harry. I can’t stand to imagine a world without you. Dumbledore’s theory… it’s that at best. You can’t risk your life by going out to face Voldemort as a martyr. The type of magic he’s talking about working is so experimental and nebulous; we can’t predict the outcome with any real certainty. That’s why I’m going to find a way to save you, my love. Just be patient. I’ll find some way of dealing with this horcrux so that you can keep on living your life beside us.”