The First Horcrux
The shadows flickered around the small, candle-lit room as Harry stared down at the pages of the book spread before him. Draco, pacing behind him, muttered to himself, glancing now and then at the pile of tomes they had gathered. For weeks, they had been piecing together the fragments of information on Voldemort’s past, and now it was all leading to one chilling discovery. Horcruxes.
Harry’s voice broke the tense silence. “It all makes sense now. The reason he couldn’t be killed—the reason why he’s tied to these artifacts—it’s because of the Horcruxes. He split his soul.”
Draco stopped in his tracks, pale eyes wide with disbelief. “Horcruxes? You mean he...”
“Yes.” Harry’s voice was cold, resolute. “Voldemort tore his soul apart, binding pieces of it to powerful magical objects. That’s why he’s always been tied to them. But what I don’t understand is why these artifacts are so important to him. It’s not just about immortality.”
Draco sat down across from Harry, still digesting the information. “If he went that far, to destroy his soul, then... it has to be more than just living forever. It’s about control, power.”
Harry nodded, flipping through the pages of an ancient, brittle book. “The Horcruxes are more than just vessels for his soul. They’re linked to powerful magical artifacts—artifacts that hold deep significance in the wizarding world. It’s not just about staying alive. It’s about consolidating his control over magic itself.”
Draco looked skeptical, though the truth was sinking in fast. “So, you think each of these objects isn’t just holding a piece of his soul... but amplifying his power?”
Harry’s gaze was grim. “That’s exactly what I think. If Voldemort was trying to fight Dumbledore’s control, what better way than to tap into ancient, powerful magic through these Horcruxes?”
The silence between them was heavy. They had started this journey seeking the truth behind Dumbledore’s manipulation, and now it seemed they had stumbled upon something far darker and more dangerous than either of them could have imagined. The Horcruxes weren’t just symbols of Voldemort’s greed for immortality; they were weapons, each tied to a force of magic that Voldemort had sought to control.
Draco exhaled slowly, running a hand through his hair. “This changes everything. If we’re going to take Dumbledore down, we have to deal with these Horcruxes first. He’ll never let go of his power as long as they’re out there, and neither will Voldemort.”
Harry leaned forward, his green eyes burning with determination. “Then we find them. We destroy them. And we make sure Dumbledore’s hold on this world is shattered.”
The first step was to track down the Horcruxes. They knew from the texts they’d read that each Horcrux was tied to a significant magical artifact—something with a deep history in the wizarding world. One of them, according to what they’d pieced together, was hidden in a place not far from where they already were. The secretive nature of the Black family was paying off. Grimmauld Place held more than just hidden letters; it held secrets that stretched back centuries.
It was late in the night when Harry and Draco returned to the Black ancestral home. The house creaked under their weight as they climbed the stairs toward the hidden room Kreacher had revealed to Harry during their last visit. The old elf had reluctantly shared the knowledge of a room that even Sirius had never known about, one that had been sealed by Regulus Black himself before his death.
“Here,” Harry said, stopping in front of a painting of an ancient Black ancestor. He whispered a few words in Parseltongue, and the painting swung open, revealing a narrow passage behind it.
Draco raised an eyebrow, impressed but not entirely surprised. “Of course. The Blacks always had a flair for the dramatic.”
Together, they entered the passage. It was cold, the air thick with the scent of dust and old magic. The walls were lined with shelves filled with objects—trinkets, heirlooms, things that seemed mundane at first glance but hummed with dark energy.
Harry’s breath caught when they reached the end of the passage. There, sitting on a small pedestal, was a locket—Slytherin’s locket. It was unmistakable. The family crest gleamed faintly in the dim light, and Harry could feel the dark magic radiating from it. This was no ordinary piece of jewelry.
“That’s it,” Harry whispered. “Regulus knew. He must have found it.”
Draco stared at the locket with a mixture of awe and fear. “A Horcrux. That thing is holding a piece of Voldemort’s soul.”
Harry nodded, stepping forward carefully. He could feel the pull of the magic within it, the way it seemed to pulse with a dark life of its own. “We need to destroy it.”
“Do you even know how?” Draco asked, keeping his distance. “Horcruxes aren’t exactly easy to get rid of. It takes powerful magic—magic we don’t even understand yet.”
Harry’s jaw clenched. He knew Draco was right. Destroying a Horcrux required more than just a simple spell. It required a deep understanding of the dark arts, the kind of knowledge that had always been kept from him. But they didn’t have time to hesitate.
“We’ll figure it out,” Harry said firmly. “But first, we need to get this out of here.”
Draco hesitated before stepping closer, his expression guarded. “Are you sure we should even touch it? If it’s connected to his soul, there could be traps, curses...”
Harry’s hand hovered over the locket. “I’ll take the risk. Regulus did.”
With a deep breath, Harry reached out and grabbed the locket. The moment his fingers closed around it, a jolt of dark magic surged through him. His vision blurred, and for a moment, he felt as though he were being pulled into the locket itself, into the cold, hollow void where Voldemort’s fractured soul lay.
He staggered, but Draco was there in an instant, steadying him. “Harry!”
“I’m fine,” Harry gasped, gripping the locket tightly. “It’s... it’s strong. We need to be careful.”
Draco’s eyes were sharp, his grip on Harry firm. “You can’t just go charging into this. We’re dealing with dark magic way beyond anything we’ve ever encountered before.”
Harry nodded, catching his breath. He could still feel the lingering touch of Voldemort’s soul within the locket, a cold presence that clung to him like a shadow. But he wouldn’t back down now. They had come too far, and there was too much at stake.
“We’ll destroy it,” Harry said, his voice steady. “And then we’ll find the others. We’ll take them all down.”
Back in the library of Grimmauld Place, Harry and Draco pored over books late into the night, searching for any information they could find on destroying Horcruxes. The texts were ancient, filled with dark, cryptic warnings, but eventually, they found what they were looking for.
“It says here,” Draco pointed to a passage, “that only certain magical objects or spells can truly destroy a Horcrux. Basilisk venom, fiendfyre... things that obliterate the soul fragments entirely.”
Harry nodded grimly. “We don’t have a basilisk lying around, but... we’ll figure something out.”
Draco leaned back, rubbing his temples. “Even if we destroy this one, there are more out there. We don’t even know how many.”
Harry clenched his fists. “We’ll find them. We have to. Voldemort can’t be defeated as long as they exist.”
Draco glanced at Harry, a strange look crossing his face. “Why are you so focused on this? I mean, we started out trying to take down Dumbledore, but now... you’re going after Voldemort too?”
Harry met his gaze, his expression hard. “Because they’re both the same. Dumbledore manipulated my life, and Voldemort tried to control the world. They’re both monsters, and they both need to be stopped.”
Draco hesitated, then nodded slowly. “Alright. But we’re in this together, Potter. If we’re going to take them down, we need to do it smart. No more rushing into things.”
Harry smirked faintly. “Who knew you could be so cautious, Malfoy?”
Draco rolled his eyes. “Someone has to be. You’d get yourself killed otherwise.”
Despite the tension in the air, Harry felt a small sense of relief. For the first time in a long time, he wasn’t fighting this battle alone.