Chapter 72: Another Spirit!
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"Anyway, can you get on with that Portkey making? And this one better not leave me stranded in a graveyard in the middle of nowhere." He winked at Barty Crouch Jr.
"That's where I totally killed Lord Voldemort, by the way. I doubt you'll have time to visit it and leave him some flowers before Dumbledore executes you as not to reveal that he is so incompetent he let a Death Eater pretend to be a teacher for a year."
With a sigh, Dumbledore murmured, "Portus." The spell made a quill glow blue for a moment.
"Thanks," Harry said, picking it up. "What's the activation word?"
Dumbledore's blue eyes twinkled. "Peace and quiet."
Harry had no time to do anything further before the Portkey activated and the world around him became a void of twisting colour.
A moment later, ground solidified beneath his feet. His head spun as he glanced around. He was in Pompeii, as expected, standing amongst ruins that could've been as old as Loki.
It wasn't likely there were any magical artefacts in there. He glanced into the distance, where Vesuvius peaked from layers of fog. There probably weren't any volcano monsters there, either.
Pompeii, however, looked like a place Harry might've wanted to go, and was in relatively close proximity to Rome, where the Aureliuses were. Whatever trust Harry might've had that Dumbledore wasn't planning to assassinate him, he certainly didn't want him to know where he was.
Accordingly, he did a quick search of himself for any tracking charms, and, not finding any, made off in the direction of where he hoped the nearest public transportation would be.
A few hours later, Harry was walking through the doors of Aurelius Manor. He moved through into the dining room and found it empty of all but Marco and what was probably his newest girlfriend. They were having dinner, and Harry marched over to them.
He turned to the girl. "I'm sorry, but I don't know your name. What is it?" She opened her mouth to speak, but he carried on. "Scratch that—I don't care. I just wanted to tell you that Marco is breaking up with you to be with me."
Her jaw dropped. She turned to Marco, who groaned and brought a hand to his forehead. "W-what?"
"It's true. Can't you sense the homoerotic tension?" Harry said. "He has a thing for fourteen-year-old boys. Now, if you don't mind…"
He pulled out his wand and sent a stunning spell into her side, and then pushed her out of her chair and sat down.
"Why the hell did you do that?"
Harry shrugged. "You have a new girlfriend every week and are probably cheating on another one with this one at the moment—it's against my morals, you see. I would never do anything like that." He picked up the girl's fork.
"I'm also quite hungry and wanted her dinner." He paused. "It might have something to do with me enjoying being obnoxious. Or brain damage."
"For God's sake…"
"Anyway," Harry said, swallowing a mouthful of food. "I need to borrow a private army so I can go and kill a dark lord."
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A week later, Harry sat in Dumbledore's office. He was fully recovered, except maybe for some kind of brain damage that Loki suggested might be affecting him and probably wasn't helped by the fact that he ha0d just slammed his forehead into the desk in front of him.
"Are you alright, Harry?" asked a concerned Dumbledore.
"No," Harry grumbled. "I had my plan to kill Voldemort all put together and now I find out that he's immortal—it's not fair."
Loki snorted. 'Life is unfair.' He paused. 'Perhaps we should've expected it—you know, from the way he resurrected himself after supposedly being hit by a deflected Killing Curse.'
'Oh, please. Any wizard skilful enough can survive the Killing Curse—look at me,' Harry said, sighing. 'But the way he took a spear through the chest and continued fighting should've probably told us something.'
'I can't imagine him using our blood in a ritual for a new body has exactly left him downgraded, either.'
Harry groaned. "Continue, Dumbledore."
Despite the topic, Dumbledore smiled, peering forward at Harry over his spectacles. "Only if you promise to stop injuring yourself." And with that, he became sober.
"As I was saying, I believe that Voldemort has achieved a form of partial immortality through a very dark and ancient ritual: the creation of Horcruxes."
'Haven't heard of them,' said Loki.
Dumbledore leaned forward, his fingers forming a steeple atop the table. "Not much is known about Horcruxes. Throughout history, those foolish yet intelligent enough to successfully create them are few and far between. That number slims further when you take into account that many of these wizards have not publicised their newfound immortality."
"Are you actually going to tell me what a Horcrux is?"
Dumbledore nodded. "Essentially, Voldemort has torn pieces of his soul off and placed them in objects. If we seek to destroy him, those objects must be destroyed first. I believe he has made seven." Dumbledore reached into his desk and extracted a slim leather-bound book with a hole through the middle.
"This was one of them. I destroyed it just over two years ago with the fang of a basilisk that had been plaguing Hogwarts."
The diary seemed normal, but for the hole through the centre; neither Loki nor Harry sensed any magical aura lingering about it.
"If not for it, then I might have remained ignorant of the Horcruxes. I was able to sense its magic and research it, and then destroy it accordingly. Rather conveniently, the only things capable of destroying a Horcrux are fiendfyre and basilisk venom."
Harry heaved out a sigh. "So, how do we find these Horcruxes?"
"I have been working on it. Alas, it has proven rather difficult."
'Do not tell him,' said Loki, 'but I feel as though you may have been one.'
'What?!'
'The night I entered you, as you know, it was because I detected another spirit in your mind—one weaker than me who I was able to quite easily evict. One way or another, you are no longer a Horcrux.'
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