Chapter 154: "Venturing into Dark Caves"

Harry stood alone at the edge of a cliff overlooking the turbulent sea. The fierce waves crashed against jagged rocks below, a stark reminder that no boat could safely traverse this stretch of ocean.

Dressed in his combat robes, with the early morning wind whipping around him, Harry felt the weight of his sword secured on his back. He was here for a purpose, ready for the challenge that awaited in the darkness below.

This desolate location was not just any spot; it was laden with dark history. It was here that Voldemort once concealed the Slytherin Horcrux, which Regulus Black, aided by Kreacher, later daringly stole.

This very place also witnessed a chilling episode from Voldemort's youth. As a little boy from the orphanage, Tom Riddle once terrorized two fellow orphans here, cementing the orphanage matron's deep-seated fear and distrust of him. With the vivid details from Voldemort's memories fresh in his mind, Harry understood the true extent of that day's events far beyond what was told in books.

Harry recalled the story of young Riddle's visit to this cliff with his orphanage peers. Riddle, an ambitious boy, was captivated by the sight of the violent waves crashing against the jagged rocks below. Yearning to be closer, he utilized his budding magical prowess, which was unusually strong for someone so young. With a focused gaze and sheer will, he crafted a makeshift path down the cliff face, a narrow trail just wide enough for a child.

Curious about Riddle's bold descent, two other orphans from the outing followed him, their curiosity piqued by his audacity. They traced his path to a hidden cave at the water's edge, where the ocean roared into a dark, expansive mouth.

While Riddle reveled in the wind and spray, exploring deeper into the cave, he was unaware of his followers until the cave's gloom and darkness scared them and revealed their presence. Angered by their intrusion on his solitary adventure, Riddle felt violated; they had used his magical path, turning his achievement into an adventure for their amusement.

Furious, he decided to teach them a lesson for exploiting his magic and hard work. As the frightened children turned to flee, Riddle summoned the ocean's fury, directing the violent waves at them with a mere gesture. Overwhelmed by the powerful water, they struggled against the suffocating rush of the sea.

However, as he watched their struggle, a flicker of awareness of the potential repercussions of his actions dawned on Riddle. He couldn't let harm come to them—not out of concern, but to avoid complications. Reluctantly, he ceased his assault, allowing them to scramble back up the cliff to safety.

The two orphans hurried back up the path they had come, hearts pounding and soaked through. Riddle followed after, rejoining the group from the orphanage as if nothing had occurred.

That day, the stories of what happened at the cliff spread in hushed tones among the children, each version slightly different, embellishing Riddle's already fearsome reputation. From then on, his peers kept their distance, wary of the enigmatic and dangerous boy.

Harry stood on the cliff, lost in thought about the young Tom Riddle's magical prowess. Even at a young age, Riddle had shown remarkable ability in wandless magic, manipulating the elements and terrain around him with ease—skills that even Harry, at that same age, could not have matched. This led Harry to ponder whether ignorance about the magical world and wands might actually foster a stronger innate magical intuition and creativity in wandless magic.

Shaking off these reflections, Harry turned his attention to the task at hand.

"Follow me, Mira," Harry instructed, his voice steady despite the weight of the task ahead. "This could be dangerous. If you sense any threat, take me away immediately."

"Yes, Master Harry," Mira replied, her tone dutiful and alert.

Harry knew the cave wasn't shielded against elf apparition, making Mira the perfect backup. With a focused leap, he used a magical flying skill he'd learned from Voldemort to float down to the cave, bypassing the need to navigate the treacherous rocks or face the rough waves by boat.

Upon reaching the ground, Harry landed softly, his robes billowing around him. Seconds later, Mira appeared beside him with a pop, prepared to follow wherever he led.

The cave's chill necessitated a warming charm, which Harry quickly cast upon himself to stave off the cold.

Harry, standing at the edge of the dark path, drew his wand and cast the Lumos spell. The tip of his wand ignited with a brilliant light, banishing the shadows and illuminating the rocky passage ahead.

As Harry ventured deeper into the cave, the path appeared to end abruptly, presenting what would seem to an unknowing observer as a mere dead end. However, armed with knowledge from Voldemort's memories, Harry recognized the illusion for what it was—a magically concealed entrance.

Approaching the deceptive wall, Harry softly recited the necessary incantation he remembered. Instantly, a radiant, arch-shaped outline flashed into existence, suggesting an opening hidden by enchantments, though it quickly faded back into the stone.

Understanding the cave's requirement for entry, Harry knew a blood sacrifice was needed to proceed. This sinister mechanism was Voldemort's design, intended to weaken any intruder by forcing them to offer their own blood before facing the perils that lay beyond.

Confidently reaching into his pouch, Harry retrieved a vial filled with his blood, prepared in advance for such a need. With a decisive motion, he splashed the contents against the cave wall. The silver glow of the arch reappeared more fiercely than before, this time remaining stable as the blood-soaked stone dissolved, revealing the dark expanse beyond the now open passage.

As Harry stepped through the arch, the dark interior of the cave was suddenly illuminated by his wand's light. Before him stretched a vast black lake, so extensive he couldn't see the far shores, enclosed in a cavern so tall its ceiling was lost to shadow. The light from his wand seemed to be swallowed by the oppressive darkness.

The island and the pedestal that held the dark potion used to hide the Horcrux were too far away to be visible. Harry knew he had two ways to approach the pedestal: he could either fly through the darkness or use a hidden boat under the lake to make his way across. Swimming was not an option, even the slightest disturbance on the water's surface might rouse the deadly inferi lurking beneath, ready to drag him into the depths.

Voldemort had designed this elaborate labyrinth to shield one of his precious Horcruxes. Although he could have fortified it further, eliminating any conceivable access to intruders—including the blood-activated entry and the boat leading to the pedestal—Voldemort had intentionally left manageable vulnerabilities, presumably to ensure he could retrieve the Horcrux himself if necessary. He avoided making the security impenetrable, wary that even he might one day find it challenging to reach his hidden fragment of soul.

Harry stood at the edge of the cavern, peering into the abyss, his sword now unsheathed and glinting in the dim light of his wand. He didn't need to venture far into the lake or confront the inferi at the central pedestal. He reasoned that stirring the water from where he stood would draw the inferi to him, simplifying the confrontation.

Fighting near the pedestal, surrounded by water, would mean defending himself from all directions—a much tougher scenario. Here, at least, his back was secure against the cave wall.

Behind him, Mira was alert and ready, understanding the stakes of their venture. At Harry's signal, she picked up a large stone and hurled it into the lake. The stone broke the surface with a loud splash, sending ripples spreading across the calm water. Instantly, the silence of the cave was shattered by ominous sounds reverberating around them, signaling the awakening of the inferi. Harry tightened his grip on his sword, bracing himself for the impending battle.