Moira | Harry Potter

Chapter Twenty Seven

Story: Moira
Chapter Twenty Seven: Secrets of The Darkest Art

The night was eerily dark. The leaves of the trees on the grounds rustled ever so lightly when the breeze blew against them. The sound of the green grass crunching softly under his feet was the only other sound heard other than that. His wand lit, throwing merry beams and illuminating his path through the dark forest was his only source of light, metaphorically speaking.

A figure in the dark shuffled lightly and he pointed his wand at it. The beautiful, yet sinister face of his godfather's cousin shined at him. She was wearing her usual smile and Harry, his usual face of mask.

"Bella," he greeted. She bowed to him and kissed his hand.

"Young Master. It's been a pleasure to meet you after such a long time," she spoke in a raspy voice. With a strict gaze, he nodded lightly then offered her a candy cane.

"Take it," he ordered. She did as she was told and even broke off a tiny bit of it and popped it into her mouth. She winced in delight and beamed at him.

"You still remember my favorite candy cane flavour?" she asked, amazement clear as crystal in her voice. Harry nodded lightly again. Little does she know what it was really flavoured with.

"Tell me, dear Bella. How 'tis master doing?"

"He is currently in a weak state and is unable to move or talk." Bellatrix, with surprise, found herself answering without a lie.

"Where did thou find him?" Harry asked, lowering his voice at the 'thou' part again.

"Albania. Peter found him and owled me that instant."

"Where do thou live now?" Harry asked, continuing his previous way of talking.

"In a muggle cottage in the nearby east. He needs to be close to that muggle filth's graveyard for the ritual," she answered with a snort.

"What ritual?" Harry asked in well concealed shock.

"The one to bring him back alive as in flesh and bones, Young Master."

"What will he do for 'tat?" Harry asked, not even bothering to conceal his slang.

"A potion will do its magic with yours, Young Master and that little brat's blood. With that, he will be as fresh as new!" Bellatrix exclaimed. Harry internally winced as a sickening feeling settled at the bottom of his insides.

"How has he managed to stay alive? I was pretty sure I had accidentally killed him."

"He never told that to us but he did mention something about a horcrux way before to me when you, Young Master were just ten," Bellatrix answered truthfully. Harry had heard of this word in a book given to him by the very same man he called master.

"'Tat's good. I thank thee for the information. Good evening, Bella," Harry said. Thinking it as a dismissal, she bowed and turned to walk further and Disapparate but Harry was quicker. Pointing his lit wand at her, he muttered as if in a single syllable: "Stupefy! Obliviate! Renervate!" His wand tip glowed several colours as Bellatrix swayed in her spot. She turned to him again with an evil smile.

"Bella," Harry greeted again. She bowed to him.

"Young Master, it's been a pleasure to meet you after such a long time!"

"So, Bella. How can I be of use to Master?" he asked clearly.

"All you have to do is correspond to me on the day before the Third task, Young Master. I'll let you know the procedures to help Master," she answered.

"I am honoured to help Master after feeling guilty for murdering him," Harry said in a stern, yet mock guilt filled voice. Bellatrix bowed again. "Good evening, Bella."

This time, Bellatrix turned around and left with a crack after kissing his hand.

Wearing the same expression, Harry walked back to the Durmstrang ship, his head full of thoughts. He had to search for The Secrets of The Darkest Art to get more information on this horcruxes. Whatever it was, he was sure it was filled with a lot of sinister magic. With such frightening thoughts, Harry fell asleep only to be woken a few hours later by Ron for breakfast.

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After breakfast, Harry found himself curled up in on a chair in front of his desk at the Durmstrang ship, reading The Secrets of The Darkest Art. The information in the book was sickeningly dreadful. Although Harry himself had killed several people, he felt terrible after reading the book.

The cracked tiara was tightly packed in one of his shirts in his trunk. For some reason, Harry felt the tiara to hold some importance in his new mission.

Only after finishing his first and hopefully, his last reading of the horrible book did a thought pass through his mind: what if the tiara itself was a horcrux? The symptoms of holding someone else's horcrux was similar to how he felt when he touched the tiara. This led to one conclusion: he had destroyed one horcrux.

But Bellatrix had told him 'horcruxes' which was a plural form of the sinister object. It meant that his master had created not one but many horcruxes but precisely how much? Harry looked up at the wooden ceiling, the number seven coming to his head.

Seven is the most powerful number, Harry. Keep it as yours.

Harry closed his eyes. It couldn't be, could it? Could his Master have really created six horcruxes, the last one being himself? For all Harry knew, it could be.

Harry had just destroyed one horcrux which meant five more were lurking in the dark as he sat in thought about them. He was half sure Nagini, his Master's snake was one given the fact that it almost always stayed close to him. Harry's temples throbbed painfully as he thought about the four unknown and evilly alive horcruxes.

There was nothing he could do to find them. He did not have anyone to confide in either. He couldn't ask Sirius, he wouldn't know about them; he couldn't ask Ginny to help him, she would be in much too danger; Ron and Draco were reliant friends but weren't too strong to defend themselves if something were to go wrong; Dumbledore, Harry did not trust him that much. He was sure there was something more to him behind those twinkling blue eyes. This led to only one more person he could ask: Regulus Arcturus Black.

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An owl hooted and Harry took that as a sign to leave. He left the comfort of his dark dorm and walked to the oak tree. When he was sure that no one was watching him, he called out in a clear voice, "Kreacher!"

A pale yet healthy looking house elf followed the sound of Apparition. He looked up at Harry then bowed deeply.

"Master Harry. How can Kreacher help yous?"

"Take me to Regulus's room directly. Make sure Sirius doesn't wake up," Harry said. Kreacher bowed again and took his hand. With a crack and an upcoming feeling of uneasiness, both Harry and the house elf were gone.

Far above, through a window, a pair of twinkling eyes were watching the dark figure and the elf disappear with an inaudible crack. A small, sad smile spread to the owner's hopeful face. "Good luck, Harry Potter."

Cliffhanger there! I couldn't just drop the horcrux plot, could I? Your thoughts about this chapter? Comment!

Thank you for reading!

Miyoko x