557 C557 Horcrux Killing Spree

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A few seconds after teleporting off, Kreacher returned with the locket clutched tightly in his bony hands, a piece of dark history that seemed to pulse with an ominous energy.

Arcturus and Albus exchanged a knowing glance as they recognized the intricate design of the locket, an heirloom of Salazar Slytherin, one of Hogwarts' revered founders. Their shared curiosity hung in the air, wondering how such a significant artifact had fallen into Voldemort's hands.

Handing over the locket with a wary expression, Kreacher warned Peter, "Steal Master Regulus's locket, and Kreacher will find a way to make you suffer, no matter where you hide."

"Sure, sure…" Peter, unfazed by the threat, accepted the locket and examined it with a thoughtful expression.

Before he could proceed with its destruction, Albus interjected, curiosity etched on his aged features. "Peter, how do you plan to destroy the Horcrux? It is no simple feat… few things possess the potency or power required for such a task."

Looking up from the locket, Peter smirked confidently. "I'll destroy it with this." He conjured Phoenix flames on his open palm, a mesmerizing dance of ethereal fire. Controlling the flames with practiced ease, he enveloped the locket, prompting Kreacher to take a step back, fear evident in his eyes.

"Aaaaaghh!" As the flames touched the locket, a blood-curdling shriek pierced the air, and a sinister black smoke began to emanate from the cursed object.

The room was filled with tension as the shadowy form struggled, attempting to escape the fiery grip of the Phoenix flames. "AAAAAGHHHHH!" The shrieking intensified, an eerie symphony of agony, as Voldemort's malevolent essence fought against its inevitable demise.

Wide-eyed, everyone in the room watched the spectacle unfold. The black smoke twisted and contorted, desperately trying to evade the relentless flames. But Peter's control over the Phoenix magic seemed absolute, and the shadowy figure was gradually burned to a crisp, dissipating into nothingness.

And as the shard of Voldemorts soul was eradicated, Kreacher felt a huge weight drop from his shoulders. Tears rained down his cheeks, his beloved masters last wish finally completely.

With the Horcrux vanquished, the flames subsided, leaving an eerie silence in their wake. Peter inspected the locket, which miraculously remained in perfect condition. He glanced at MJ and handed her the locket, silently affirming their plan to take souvenirs from this unprecedented journey.

Arcturus broke the silence, his stern gaze fixed on Peter. "Impressive control over fire magic… Few possess such mastery."

"It's not actually magic, but thanks." Peter shrugged nonchalantly, confusing everyone. "You pick up a few tricks when you've been around the block as many times as I have."

Albus, however, couldn't suppress his curiosity. "But Salazar Slytherin's locket is a powerful magical artifact. How did it come into Voldemort's possession?"

Peter exchanged a knowing look with MJ before responding, "That's a story for another time. Right now, we've got bigger problems to deal with, like destroying the rest of the Horcruxes."

Arcturus nodded, recognizing the urgency of the situation. "Indeed. But do you know where the rest of them are?"

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Stepping out of another portal, the group, led by Peter, emerged into a desolate dark forest. In the distance loomed a dilapidated shack, an ominous silhouette against the darkened woods. Arcturus and an unexpected companion, Walburga, followed closely, driven by a shared determination to see the quest through to avenge Regulus.

Sirius, visibly surprised by his mother's presence, couldn't fathom her change of heart. Once a staunch supporter of Voldemort, she now sought closure for the loss of her favorite child.

As the last person stepped out and the portal closed behind them, James inquired about their whereabouts.

"Little Hangleton," Peter responded cryptically, leaving the explanation hanging in the air. Without further ado, he led the way towards the crumbling shack, a place steeped in the dark history of Voldemort's origins.

Albus, recognizing the significance of the location, explained to the others that Little Hangleton was Voldemort's birthplace. "Tom was born in this towns orphanage. Sadly, his mother died during childbirth, or else things might have been different. Maybe if he had a mother to love him, he could have turned out better…"

The revelation added a layer of understanding as to why one of his Horcruxes might be concealed in this seemingly inconspicuous shack.

Approaching the weathered entrance, James reached for the door handle, only to be halted by Peter's firm grip on his arm. Confused, James questioned, "What's wrong?"

"Watch…" Peter said as he tapping his finger on the door, a protective golden energy shielded Peter as a black miasma emanated from the wood. The deadly defenses dissipated against Peter's barrier, saving him from a particularly nasty curse.

Instantly, realization dawned on James as he acknowledged that Peter's swift action had likely saved his life. A silent nod of gratitude passed between them, a testament to the trust forged in the crucible of their shared mission.

Motioning for the group to wait, Peter conjured multiple spell circles with a wave of his hand. The intricate patterns worked in harmony, systematically disarming the layers of protections that cloaked the shack. With the defenses neutralized, Peter led the way inside, followed by the watchful eyes of the others.

Searching the dimly lit room, Peter focused on the creaking floorboards. With a deliberate motion, he lifted them, revealing a concealed compartment below. Within the hidden space lay a golden box, harboring the Gaunt Family ring… the next Horcrux on his list.

Shrouding his hand in the familiar Phoenix flames, Peter retrieved the ring from its gilded prison. Holding it aloft, he commented, "What a nasty curse," before bathing the cursed Horcrux in the cleansing fire. Not only did the ring hold a piece of Voldemorts soul, but it also carried a curse which would quickly kill anyone who wore it.

The flames danced and flickered, consuming the ring and the malevolence attached to it until all that remained were ashes. The only piece of the ring that Peter left intact was the dark stone, which now lay in the palm of his hand.

As the last embers faded, and everyone let out a relieved breath, Peter looked down at the stone in his hand, a curious look on his face. 'Is this actually a Deathly Hallow?' He wondered.

The Deathly Hallows were three highly powerful magical objects supposedly created by Death itself and given to each of three brothers in the Peverell family. They consisted of the Elder Wand, which Dumbledore currently carried, an immensely powerful wand that was considered unbeatable.

The Cloak of Invisibility, which, as its name suggests, rendered the user completely invisible.

And finally, what Peter was currently looking at, the Resurrection Stone, a stone which could summon the spirits of the dead,

According to legend, he who possessed these three artefacts would become the Master of Death. The story of the Deathly Hallows was originally told by Beedle the Bard and subsequently passed from family to family as a wizard fairytale. But few wizards ever realised that the Deathly Hallows were genuine items. Most people thought that there were things that Beedle had made up to entertain young wizards and witches.

In the original story, no one but Harry Potter and Albus Dumbledore had ever been in command of all three Hallows, though neither were ever in possession of them all at once.

'I'll have to test it out later…' Stashing the stone away from the time being, Peter wondered, 'What would happen if I collect all three of the Hallows together?'

MJ watched as he stored the Resurrection stone away, just as curious as him. They seemed to be on the same wavelength as she began plotting how they would get ahold of the invisibility cloak. After all, it is a Potter family heirloom. 'Maybe we can trade some magic knowledge for it?' She thought.

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Closing the door of the dilapidated shack behind them, Peter faced the group and with a flick of his wrist, conjured a shimmering portal. The familiar golden glow enveloped them, transporting inside of a large castle, Hogwarts, a place laden with magical history and secrets.

As they materialized within the hallowed halls of the school, Albus Dumbledore, the venerable headmaster, wore a mixture of surprise and curiosity on his aged features. "Peter, how did you manage to breach the school's wards so effortlessly? This shouldn't be possible..."

Peter, ever nonchalant, grinned, "Lets talk about that later. Right now, let's just focus on the task at hand."

Albus nodded, his eyes reflecting a keen interest in learning from Peter. But sadly, they had a job to do at the moment.

The realization dawned on everyone that their purpose in returning to Hogwarts was more than mere nostalgia. There, within its revered walls, hid another Horcrux, a revelation that left them incredulous. How could such darkness lurk in the sanctuary of a school dedicated to magic and knowledge?

A nervous look dawned on Dumbledore face as he turned to see Voldemort floating behind Peter, thankfully still unconscious. 'We should have locked him up somewhere… It's not safe for the children to be anywhere near him…' He thought.

After all, they just brought the Dark Lord himself to a school full of innocent and impressionable children. A lot could go wrong if they aren't careful.

…

Arriving on the seventh floor, Peter halted before a seemingly ordinary stretch of wall. With a knowing smile, he paced back and forth three times before a door materialized, revealing the Room of Requirement.

Albus, the only one among the group who was unsurprised by this enchanted room's existence, watched with an understanding nod. 'Tom must have found the room while he was at school and used it as a hiding place…'

Peter turned to the group, his expression resolute. "This is it. Another Horcrux is hidden in here."

As the door creaked open, unveiling the Room's ever-changing interior, a collective gasp escaped the group. The space transformed into a vast library, filled with towering shelves of ancient tomes and mystical artifacts. In the center stood a pedestal, atop which rested a seemingly innocuous object.

James, wide-eyed, muttered, "A Horcrux in Hogwarts... unbelievable."

Peter approached the pedestal, his eyes narrowing at the object. It was an ornate diadem, delicately crafted with intricate details. "Ravenclaw's lost diadem," Albus mused, recognizing the artifact.

Peter extended his hand, grasping the diadem as his hand lights up in flames for the third time that night. "Time to collect another souvenir." He said as he turned to MJ. "We should give this one to Lily. She'd look cute with it on."

MJ nodded. "Sure, but we'll have to get something for America as well. We can't forget about her."

"Sure, we'll find something." Peter nodded as the third horcrux of the night was destroyed, leaving only the Diadem itself intact.

Watching Peter talking so casually with MJ whilst he destroys a Horcrux with his bare hands, the whole group couldn't help but wonder whether this was actually as life threatening and dangerous as they originally thought.

'Isn't this a little too easy?' Each of them thought in unison.

A/N: 1863 words :)

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