HP/LOTM: Visionary - 414

Chapter 414: Indestructible, The Drifters’ Camp

“What ‘promotion catalogues’? You’re not making any sense,” Oliver said, frowning.

"Looks like you are not much for history either," Aiden teased, his huge dragon eyes narrowing into a comical expression.

"Brits are hopeless at history," Edmund shot back.

"I happen to think mine is perfectly fine."

"That is because you did not have to skip class just to survive school. Anyway, I heard they have banned guns recently," Edmund said.

......

In the forest, Ron and Hermione suggested destroying the Horcrux at once so Voldemort could not reclaim it.

The three of them chose a secluded spot. Hermione found a fallen tree trunk and set the earring on it.

"You first," she said, looking at Harry. As the Chosen One, he might have some innate counter to Voldemort, so she wanted him to try.

"Diffindo!" Harry slashed his wand.

The spell hurled the earring away and sliced the dead log clean in half. The metal fitting shattered under the curse, but the gemstone at its heart lay on the ground, perfectly intact.

The three of them edged closer.

Seeing the unblemished stone, Hermione drew her wand. "Incendio."

Flames roared up around the gem, burning hotter as the dry leaves caught, but the stone stayed bright and clear. The glints of light off its surface seemed to mock them.

Harry sucked in a breath and lifted his wand again. "Bombarda!"

The blast hurled the gem into the air before it clattered back down. Harry exhaled and tried again.

"Reducto. Reducto. Reducto!"

He lashed the fallen gem with one curse after another. It did nothing but bounce and fall. Not a crack appeared.

"Use the spell from Shaftesbury Avenue," Hermione said quietly.

"I cannot. That curse only reflects someone else’s attack. It does nothing if I cast it into thin air," Harry said, shaking his head.

He walked over, picked up the stone, tied it to a thin cord, and slipped it over his head.

"What are you doing?" Hermione demanded.

"Keeping it safe until we can destroy it," Harry said.

Behind them, Ron, his hand bandaged from the splinching, slumped against a tree.

"It is mental. Dumbledore gives you this mission. Aiden gives you directions. Neither of them tells you how to actually destroy a Horcrux. Are they having a laugh at your expense?" Ron burst out.

Harry looked at him for a long time, then forced all the bitterness down. In his heart, he had always felt he should never have dragged his friends into this in the first place. He said nothing, just turned and walked back toward the tent.

Behind it, he leaned his weight against the canvas. Inside, Ron’s radio rattled off who had been hunted, who had been killed. Hermione, in the distance, conjured clean water for them.

Harry ran his fingers over the Horcrux. The magic layered over it sensed a familiar power and slowly stirred.

"You know the spell, Harry. Just say it, and you will get what you want."

The languid whisper curled around him, gnawing through his Occlumency, coaxing him toward that Unforgivable that would shatter his soul and drag him down forever.

Following the link between the Horcrux and Tom, he saw her pursuing Gregorovitch. Fresh from the war in Egypt, her fury burned like a wildfire.

At last, she cornered him in a little shop in Germany, driving him back against the deepest shelves.

"Where is it? Where is the thing I want? You know what I am looking for," Tom said, pinning Gregorovitch and jabbing her wand into his throat.

"I swear, that is all I know. Ninety years ago, a boy stole it. I never went after him," Gregorovitch stammered, spilling everything.

Tom’s blood-red eyes rolled up. Drawing on Chaos, she plunged into his mind and confirmed every word.

"I believe you," she said, smiling sweetly.

Just as Gregorovitch thought he might yet live, green light filled his vision.

"Ah—!"

Harry saw him fall, struck dead by the Killing Curse. Wand boxes toppled from the shelves, burying the body in a small, makeshift grave.

"Next is you, dear Harry Potter," Tom said, feeling the link, before she cut the connection herself.

"Gh—!" Harry convulsed and collapsed.

Hermione came over with the water and tipped some into his mouth. "Looks like it is over," she said.

Harry pushed himself up and sagged back against the tent once more, this time letting it carry almost all of his weight.

"I am fine," he said, forcing a smile.

"You cannot keep going into her mind. Aiden said there is poison left behind in her thoughts," Hermione said, eyes full of worry.

Harry shook his head and relayed what he had seen. "She found Gregorovitch."

"The wandmaker?" Hermione said, dropping down beside him.

"She wants something he once had. I do not know what, but she is desperate for it. As if her life depended on it," Harry said.

Behind them, the radio’s volume had been turned up on purpose. The crackle of static and shouted headlines made Harry’s head pound after Voldemort’s mind.

His face was chalk-white. He slammed a fist into the ground, wanting to storm in and yell at Ron.

"Don’t," Hermione said quickly. "Those broadcasts are the only thing he has to cling to."

"The radio makes me feel sick. What is he hoping to hear? Good news from the Ministry?" Harry snapped.

Hermione’s head dipped. Her parents might be safe with Arthursi, but she still worried something would happen to them. The three of them were wanted. They could not stroll around looking for Arthursi. Hermione regretted not talking to her properly the last time they met.

She swallowed it all back down and forced a smile. "I think he just wants there not to be bad news."

"How long until he can move?" Harry asked, hauling himself upright, looking down at her.

"I have done everything I can," Hermione said, meeting his eyes.

"It is not enough," Harry said, agitation driving him away across the clearing.

"Take it off," Hermione said, her tone turning cold.

Harry froze. He watched as she walked over and lifted the gem from his neck.

"From now on, we take turns carrying it. Understood?" she said.

Her queenly authority pinned him in place. Harry did not dare meet her eyes. He just nodded, small and meek, like a scolded chick.