The O.W.L. exams began in mid-June and Harry was already
exhausted from studying so hard. The theory exams were quite easy,
but the practical exam, for him especially, was a different matter. It
was not that he was being tested differently, but Harry was trying his
best to make everything extraordinary. Madam Marchbanks took
particular delight in testing him for most of the exams.
"I think you have adjusted to the accelerated program rather well, Mr
Potter," said the old woman. "Now, I was wondering if you could
vanish this iguana for me."
The Transfiguration exam was wonderful. Harry displayed his talent
in inanimate conjuration by creating a throne for himself with the
Potter crest clearly displayed on the back. Switching spells were
quite easy and he amused his examiners by switching a vase of
conjured lilies with his hair. The Charms exam was even better.
When Professor Tofty asked him to animate his eggcup and make it
do cartwheels, Harry went one step further and with careful
concentration, began making the eggcup start dancing after giving it
feet. When the eggcup bowed to Tofty after the show, the old man
began roaring with laughter.
"Oh, you're quite cheeky, aren't you?" said the old professor fondly.
"Yes, your mother did something quite similar when she took her
exams. Now, if you could change the colour of this rat ..."
Herbology went reasonably well. Harry knew that it was not his best
subject but he was sure that he would get an Outstanding anyway.
Defence Against the Dark Arts was absolutely thrilling to show in
front of the examiners. Harry took great delight in showing various
curses, jinxes and counter-curses, stunning the examiner with his
talent in non-verbal magic.
"Oh, bravo!" cried Professor Marchbanks as he conjured a marble
stone slab when asked how to defend himself from Unforgivable
Curses – an N.E.W.T question, actually, but Harry didn't care. The
marble slab took four Reductor curses before it crumbled.
"Outstanding, Potter," she smiled. "Not many of them have the
presence of mind to conjure stone in the path of a curse. You may
go."
Ancient Runes and Arithmancy were very good as well. Harry took
great delight in adding his knowledge about warding in the written
papers. He was sure to get extra credit for that. But the best by far
was Potions. Harry was supremely calm as he impressed the
examiner with his spells which, he realised, other students who were
taught by parents who specialised in Potions knew as well. His
ingredients were meticulously cut into pieces and he ensured that
the timer was set to the second. When he submitted the phials filled
with perfect potion samples, he was sure that he would be pursuing
the subject after school.
Care of Magical Creatures took place in the afternoon at the edge of
the Forbidden Forest and the students had to identify the creatures
and give them food, demonstrate the correct handling of others and
identify the correct food to be given to an injured unicorn. Harry was
quite surprised by his ability with magical creatures. The bowtruckle
he interacted with during the exam had taken a shining to him.
Astronomy, Muggle Studies and History of Magic were fine. His
perfect memory tuned with Occlumency exercises over the years
had always helped him remember everything he wanted. The theory
exams went well and he was quite happy with them. He also took the
Duelling exam which was offered as a choice. Very few people took
it, but Harry wanted it. By the time he finished all twelve of the
exams, he was exhausted, but supremely happy.
1st July, 2003
Somewhere in Edinburgh, Scotland
"Oh look, it's the freak!" said the older boy jeering at the small frame
of the eleven-year-old boy.
"Watch where you're going, freak," said another, forcing the smaller
boy to trip on his shoes.
Dylan scrapped his elbow against the hard ground as he tried to
control his tears. Even on his birthday, they didn't leave him alone.
How he wished he could get away from here!
"Leave me alone," whispered Dylan pleadingly as he got to his feet,
but the older boy punched him in the stomach.
"Oh, look, little Dylan here seems to want to talk back," he jeered. "I
think it's time we taught him a lesson, don't you think, boys? Let the
freak know his place!"
Dylan backed away, looking around for someone to help him, but
there was nobody. "Please," he begged. "Just leave me alone."
"Coward!" spat another boy as the rest beat him up. "You stop doing
all the freaky things that you do and we'll stop hitting you. We're only
helping you become normal like us. Everyone in the orphanage
knows of your freakish ways!"
"I don't know what it means!" screamed Dylan as a wave of powerful
magic exploded from his body, throwing the boys away from him and
onto the street. The bus coming towards the children had to turn
sharply to avoid crushing them and that, in turn, led to it crashing into
a building.
The young boy, Dylan, was unconscious.
"Ma'am, I have important news," said Auror Trainee Tonks as she
entered the office of her boss, gasping for breath.
"What is it, Tonks?" asked Amelia, looking up from her paperwork.
"There was a huge burst of accidental magic in Edinburgh," she
explained. "The Accidental Magic Reversal Squad found a young
wizard beaten quite badly. He seems to have used magic to escape,
but it caused quite a scene."
"Why are you telling me this?" asked Amelia, confused. "This is a
matter that will be taken care of by them. Besides, it is to be handled
by the Department of Magical Accidents and Catastrophes and
Wizarding Children Services. I'm no way involved."
"Normally, I would agree. But I found out the name of the boy who
has been taken to St Mungo's. Right now, very few people know the
boy's identity, but if the information leaks out, it could mean big
trouble. I thought the boy's closest family had to be informed
considering his name."
"What's his name?"
Tonks hesitated. "Dylan Lestrange."
Two hours later, Sirius Black and Harry Potter were walking towards
the room that housed the boy in St Mungo's Hospital. Both of them
were frowning.
"Did Bellatrix and Rodolphus have a child?"
"No," Sirius replied. "I know for a fact that Bellatrix lost her ability to
bear children due to a stray curse that destroyed her uterus during a
battle in Diagon Alley. The raid she conducted after she found out
was pretty horrifying. I'm absolutely sure this boy is not Bellatrix's
son. Maybe he is Rabastan's?"
"Or it might be completely random? After all, there are Muggles with
the name of Potter, Black, Smith and a few others. It could be a
coincidence."
"Maybe … a Gringotts lineage test would give the necessary
information. But if he is anything like them ..."
"He's just a child, Sirius," said Harry quietly, but he did agree with his
godfather's sentiments. Just as they were about to enter, a Healer
stepped out of the room and was startled to see Sirius and Harry
there.
"Lord Black, Mr Potter," the wizard nodded respectfully at them.
"What can I do for you?"
"We're here to see your newest patient," said Sirius. "I have
authorization since he might be – ahem – family. How is he doing?"
"Not well, psychologically speaking," said the Healer grimly. "He
thought we were going to kill or torture him. I had to stun the lad
before we could heal all his wounds. There are clear signs of longterm
abuse. Broken bones, malnutrition, you name it. He'll have to
be here for the next week, at least, to fix everything."
"Are you sure he said Lestrange?" asked Harry sharply.
"Yes, Mr Potter," the Healer nodded. "If you want to talk to him, I
would advise you to be soothing. He doesn't know about the
existence of magic."
Nodding, the two of them slipped through the privacy screens. The
adorable looking boy had mousy brown hair with slight curls and
looked quite small for his age. At the moment, however, he was
sleeping peacefully.
"He's definitely a Lestrange," said Sirius quietly, observing the boy's
features critically. "I'd recognise that cleft chin anywhere, but he is
not Bellatrix's son. He might be the son of Rabastan."
"What about the mother?"
"We won't know that until we talk to him," said Sirius grimly. "Poor
kid; I don't even want to imagine what is going to happen when
people find out about this. The Lestranges are quite hated by
everyone for what happened to Frank and Alice Longbottom, not to
mention the countless other deaths they were responsible for."
"Well, there's no point in just standing here," said Harry quietly. He
extended his hand towards the boy and there was a flash of red light
from his palm. The boy groaned softly as he opened his grey eyes.
"W-Where am I?" he squeaked out.
"Easy," said Harry gently, surprising his godfather. "You're in a
hospital, getting your injuries treated. We found you on a street in
Edinburgh. May we know your name?"
The boy swallowed as he looked at the boy who was probably a few
years older than him, maybe more. Harry began releasing some of
his magic in a comforting way which enveloped the other boy,
calming him down.
"Dylan," he said nervously. "Dylan Lestrange."
"It's nice to meet you, Dylan," Harry smiled. "I am Harry Potter, and
this is my godfather, Sirius Black. How old are you?"
"Eleven," muttered Dylan. "My birthday is on the first of July."
"Well then, happy birthday, Dylan," said Harry, as he shook the boy's
hand, making him gape in shock. No one had ever wished him on his
birthday before. "Can you tell us the last thing you remember?"
"I – I was walking back to the orphanage," Dylan answered,
swallowing hard. "That's when Tony and the rest started to gang up
on me. They always call me a freak and they said that – that – I was
to be cured of something. They were beating me up and I wished
that they would stop … and then I blacked out. When I woke up,
someone was asking me questions, holding a stick. I was scared
that they were going to hurt me as they did at the orphanage. I
panicked, but I can't recall anything after that."
Harry and Sirius looked at each other. "You said you were going to
an orphanage," said Sirius slowly. "Do you live there? Do you know
who your parents are?"
"No sir, I don't know who my parents are," he said, shivering slightly.
"I was born at the orphanage. My mother died soon after from what I
was told. She just named me before she died. I don't know anything
else. Who are you?"
Harry took a deep breath. "We're not sure yet, but we're probably
your closest living relatives. Don't worry. We're not sending you back
to the orphanage."
" What ?" Dylan gasped, gaping at Harry. "R-Relatives? But–but, I
was told I had no family! Why –"
"We didn't even know you existed until a few hours ago, Dylan," said
Sirius patiently. "Can you please tell me the name of the orphanage
that you grew up in?"
"It's called David's orphanage for children."
"Alright," said Sirius softly. "I'll just have to check something, but
while I'm gone, Harry here will explain everything to you. But before I
go, will you let me take a drop of your blood?"
"Blood? Why?"
"It is so that we can know who your parents are," said Harry
soothingly. "Please, Dylan, it's very important. I'll explain everything
to you as soon as Sirius leaves."
Sirius flicked his wand, conjuring a phial. Harry waved a hand over
Dylan's palm, slicing a thin line. Dylan was gobsmacked at the
display. Once a few drops of blood were taken, Harry healed the
wound and Sirius left.
"How – how did you do that?" whispered Dylan.
"It's called magic."
Sirius and Amelia walked inside the orphanage, grimacing at the
environment. This did not look like an orphanage which would take
care of its children well. It was probably very poorly funded and
where bullying was rampant.
"Yes, may I help you?" said the matron as she smiled sweetly at the
expensively dressed couple in front of her.
"Yes, we were looking for the person in charge," said Amelia
formally.
"That would be me. I'm Mary Jones," she said extending her hand.
"Nice to meet you, Miss Jones," said Amelia. "I am Agent Bones from
the MI5 and this is my partner Agent Black. We'd like to ask you a
few questions regarding one Dylan Lestrange."
Miss Jones paused before asking carefully, "What would you like to
know?"
"How did he end up at this orphanage?" asked Sirius.
"He was born here," she shrugged. "A teenage girl came here about
eleven years ago, heavily pregnant in the evening. It's quite common
so we took her in. She seemed to quite unhealthy; probably lived on
the streets, poor dear. She gave birth to a healthy baby boy and
asked us to name him Dylan Lestrange; yes, Lestrange is a very
strange name, isn't it? Anyway, she kept mumbling about revenge
and her son being half-blood. I remember it well because the words
she used were so weird. May I know what's interesting about him?"
Sirius walked up to the woman and looked into her eyes. While his
Legilimency skills couldn't even penetrate the mind of a young
wizard, Muggles had no natural shields whatsoever. He went through
her memories and found the relevant information. He saw everything
that had been done to the boy and was disgusted by it. This only
validated Harry's theory – there were indeed more magical children
abused by Muggles. Harry wasn't the only one.
"Come on, Amelia," Sirius spat angrily. "We have what we need."
"Wait, where is the boy?" asked Miss Jones.
Amelia pointed her wand at her.
" Obliviate! "
"Thank you for meeting me without an appointment, Ironclaw,"
Amelia began.
"No problem at all, Lady Black," the goblin replied. "What can I do for
you?"
"We were hoping you could identify this boy's parents," Sirius took
over as he removed the phial containing a few drops of blood.
"The boy gave us his blood willingly and authorised it," said Amelia
swiftly. "This is a matter concerning the Most Ancient and Noble
House of Lestrange."
"Indeed?" asked Ironclaw in surprise.
"He was found in Muggle Edinburgh. He's just turned eleven and we
need to know if he is related to the Lestranges and who his mother
is."
The goblin nodded as he got a small silver bowl. He began mixing
several powders and potions inside it. He took the phial and poured
the blood into it. Once done, he took a special quill and a parchment
shimmering with magic. He dipped the quill into the bowl. After a few
seconds, the quill activated and began writing on the parchment.
Ironclaw looked at it and nodded grimly.
"It looks like your suspicions were correct," said Ironclaw. "He is the
illegitimate child of Rabastan Lestrange."
Sirius and Amelia took the parchment showing the lineage test and
looked at it.
Name: Dylan Lestrange
Father: Rabastan Lestrange (Pureblood)
Mother: Charlene Cooper (Muggle-born)
Date of Birth: 1st July, 1992
Status: Illegitimate Heir Apparent of the Most Ancient and Noble
House of Lestrange
"He must have raped her," Amelia muttered grimly. "That explains
the revenge part."
"And the half-blood part as well," Sirius agreed. "She was a Muggleborn
and the Lestranges are pureblood fanatics. She must have
thought it would be the ultimate revenge against them."
"I'll check the Ministry archives for anyone named Charlene Cooper.
Thank you for your services, Ironclaw."
Dylan laughed with delight as Harry made more things fly across the
room, changing colours and conjuring objects.
"This is all so cool! I mean, magic is real !"
"I know how you feel," Harry couldn't help but smile. "When I learnt
about the existence of magic, I thought I was dreaming. You'll get
your Hogwarts letter in a few weeks."
"Are you really thirteen years old, Harry?" asked Dylan in surprise.
"You look older to me."
Harry chuckled. "I turn thirteen in a month, actually," he answered.
"I'm still technically twelve."
"No way! You look like you're fifteen or sixteen!"
"Magical children develop faster than Muggles, both physically and
mentally. And some of us grow faster while others mature slowly. The
malnutrition you suffered at the orphanage seems to have stunted
your growth. You'll be surprised how fast you'll grow once the healers
are done with you."
Dylan paused, trying to gather his thoughts. "Do you really think I'll
get a Hogwarts letter?" he asked hopefully.
"Positive."
"Could you tell me more about it?" he asked shyly.
Just as Harry was about to reply, Sirius and Amelia entered the
room. "Hello Dylan," Sirius greeted him with a warm smile. "How are
you feeling?"
"I'm great, sir!" he said happily. "Harry was just showing me more
magic. It's so cool!"
"That's good to know," said Sirius. "Dylan, this is my wife, Amelia.
She is the Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement."
"Think of her as the head of a magical version of the U.K.'s Home
Office," explained Harry quietly.
Dylan's eyes widened. "Ma'am," he said awkwardly. She was a stern
looking woman with short red hair and blue eyes. When he saw her,
he knew that she was not to be messed with. She definitely looked
the part of an important government employee.
"Hello, Mr Lestrange," Amelia nodded. "We have managed to get
some information about your parents. Would you like to know about
them?"
"Yes, ma'am," said Dylan excitedly. Harry had a bad feeling in the pit
of his stomach.
"Your father is Rabastan Lestrange and your mother was one
Charlene Cooper," said Amelia candidly. There was no point in trying
to soft-pedal the truth, as she had an official duty to inform him of the
situation. Taking a deep breath, she continued, "Your mother was a
Muggle-born, meaning a witch or wizard born to non-magical
parents. She attended Hogwarts but dropped out in her sixth year
when her family was attacked."
"Attacked?" repeated Dylan in shock.
The next ten minutes was spent in explaining about the war with
Voldemort. "And so, your mother never returned to Hogwarts. She
seems to have gone into hiding in the Muggle world and had you in
the orphanage."
"My parents were not married?" asked Dylan, his eyes wide, shaking
his head in denial.
"Drink this first," said Harry, giving him a phial of calming draught.
"Trust me, it'll help."
After the boy had calmed down, Amelia continued. "All the evidence
we have gathered point towards the fact that your father might have
– ahem – impregnated your mother without consent. The Gringotts
lineage test confirms that they were not married and that you are
illegitimate."
"What? There has got to be a mistake!"
"I don't think so, Dylan," said Sirius grimly, "because your father
would never have involved himself romantically with a Muggle-born.
From what we found out from the orphanage, it is clear that she
knew who your father was as well. Thank Merlin he doesn't know
about you."
"You mean my father is alive ?" asked Dylan, horrified. "Why didn't
he come and get me?"
"Guys, can I talk to him alone for a minute?" asked Harry quietly.
Sirius and Amelia looked at each other and nodded. After they left,
Harry sat down on the bed and took the boy's hand in his, giving it a
soft squeeze.
"What I am about to tell you might come as a shock," he said slowly
as he formed his words. "Dylan, your father is in prison. He has been
for the past eleven years. He is a Death Eater, one of Voldemort's
most faithful followers. He, his brother Rodolphus and Rodolphus'
wife Bellatrix were sent to prison for life. In fact, you are related to
Sirius though Bellatrix, by marriage. They are first cousins, you see."
Dylan's lower lip was trembling. Harry sighed as he pulled the
younger boy into a tight hug as he cried into his chest. Harry made
soothing sounds, rubbing Dylan's back as he silently let the boy vent.
He had no idea why he was consoling the newly discovered
Lestrange heir, but it reminded him too much of how he had been
when he was at the Dursleys. Dylan was obviously in a state of
shock and he needed someone. Harry may be cold, but he wasn't
heartless.
"M-My dad is a murderer?" he hiccupped.
"There is no sugar-coating it, Dylan," said Harry grimly. "The
Lestranges are quite – ahem – disliked by the common wizarding
public. That's why we reacted as fast as we did. Your name raised a
red alert and we had to keep you safe before someone took
advantage of you by feeding you information for their benefit."
"You did the same thing, didn't you?" snapped Dylan. After a few
seconds, his eyes brimmed with tears of fear. "I'm sorry. I didn't
mean to say that; please don't be mad at me, Harry!"
"I'm not mad at you," said Harry softly. "I know how you feel. I know
that we just met each other a few hours ago, but please, Dylan. Can
you trust me? I won't leave you alone. I promise. My life was and is
very similar to yours so I can understand you better than anyone. All
I am asking is that you give me a chance. Please?"
Grey eyes meet green, looking for any sign of deceit. After a minute,
Dylan nodded slowly as more tears flowed down his cheeks. This
was all too much for him to handle at such short notice, especially
finding out that his father was a notorious mass-murderer. Harry
simply rubbed his back, trying to calm him down.
Harry stayed in the hospital with Dylan for the next several days. He
wanted the boy to trust him and so far, it was going great. Even
though Dylan was an illegitimate child, there was no denying the fact
that he was the Heir Apparent of House Lestrange unless one of the
Lestrange brothers sired another child, which was not possible
considering they were in Azkaban for life.
The political ramifications of this would be huge, not to mention quite
ugly, so before anyone to contest to be the guardian of the boy,
Sirius and Amelia had quietly gotten it done. Dylan may not be
Bellatrix's child, but the Lestranges had intermarried with the Blacks
a few generations ago, so it was all clean. Besides, this would
ensure that other dark families wouldn't try to get their claws on the
boy. There was no telling what they would do. Even Lucius Malfoy
would do his best to get custody. They had decided that it was better
this way.
Once Dylan was fully healed, Sirius used his influence as the owner
to make Rita Skeeter write an article in the Magical Daily newspaper,
letting people know the truth. This had to be handled delicately
because the name Lestrange might have once been quite influential,
but it had since been disgraced because of the actions of the three
which led to the state of the Longbottoms. The article correctly
conveyed what had happened to the boy's mother and her family
and that the boy had been raised in a Muggle orphanage, not
knowing of his heritage.
There had been massive uproar as expected, but then again, even
the smallest article with juicy information could get the population to
talk or protest. The traditionalists on the Wizengamot had
immediately tried to get custody, but Sirius announced that he had
already gained guardianship of the boy. Albus Dumbledore was all
for it even though he had been annoyed at not knowing about it. He
did not want another child going down a dark path and the young
Lestrange would be safer if he was kept as far away from the former
Death Eaters as possible.
Augusta Longbottom had been another problem.
The woman had said that the boy should not be allowed at Hogwarts
or any other magical school in Britain knowing what his father had
done. Sirius had rebutted her statement saying that they shouldn't
judge a child based on their parents' crimes. Dylan had never even
met his father and didn't know of him until recently. He argued that
Augusta was looking at Rabastan in Dylan and that was unethical.
Augusta had been fuming and refused to talk to Sirius or Amelia after
that.
A few others had said that the boy was illegitimate and hence could
not access the Lestrange title or fortune. Sirius had calmly pointed
out that no one at the Wizengamot had the authority to stop the boy
from claiming his inheritance and anyone stupid enough to do so
would be charged with line-theft. The family magic would decide if he
could claim his position as the Heir. Needless to say, it was quite a
messy political battle and Sirius was exhausted at the end of it.
Once he was healed, Dylan was taken to Black Castle where they
spent their summer. The boy was in awe of the castle and also the
beautiful beaches of the island. Daphne and Astoria had had also
decided to come along. Dylan slowly began to open up over the
course of the holidays. He also seemed to trust Harry the most,
sticking to him wherever they went. Harry and Dylan went shopping
for clothes along with Elizabeth Greengrass and by the end of the
trip, the boy couldn't stop stuttering his thanks. Dylan had also
devoured all the books Harry had given him about magic.
All in all, the summer holidays were going quite well.
The Lord's study in Potter Castle was dim, with the lighting charms
at minimum setting and a fire burning brightly in the fireplace.
Harry Potter was sitting at the centre of the room, on a luxurious
carpet, in a meditative state. He was looking for the memories that
had come to him when he was in the Chamber of Secrets. He
dwelled into his mind and found a memory which he had trapped in
his mind palace.
He was standing in a classroom with Professor Slughorn and
hesitantly asked while trying to hide his excitement. "Sir, I was
wondering what you know about ... Horcruxes?"
" Well," said Slughorn, not looking at him, but fiddling with the ribbon
on top of his box of crystallised pineapple. "Well, it can't hurt to give
you an overview, of course, just so that you understand the term. A
Horcrux is the word used for an object in which a person has
concealed part of their soul."
" Yes, sir," he said. "What I don't understand, though — just out of
curiosity — I mean, would one Horcrux be much use? Can you only
split your soul once? Wouldn't it be better, make you stronger, to
have your soul in more pieces, I mean, for instance, isn't seven the
most powerfully magical number, wouldn't seven –"
He looked at the small diary in front of him and many other
ingredients which surrounded him. A glass of potion, which was pitch
black was sitting on a table. He took it and drank the contents, and
then pointed his wand at the diary and said the spell. Pain. It was
more pain than he had ever imagined! Had something gone wrong?
Just as he felt like he couldn't tolerate the pain anymore, it stopped.
He opened his eyes to look at the diary, which was glowing. He
smiled widely. He was just sixteen, but he had done it. He had finally
created his first Horcrux!
His filthy Muggle father! How dare the man leave his mother and
reject him before he was even born? The words of his father calling
him and his mother unnatural freaks still echoed in his mind. The big
black and gold ring lay in front of him. He drank the potion and
pointed the wand at the ring. Pain. The ring glowed.
How stupid of the ghost, and she actually was the daughter of
Rowena Ravenclaw herself! While he immensely respected Rowena
for her sheer intelligence, he couldn't help but be disgusted by her
daughter. She had just handed over her mother's prized diadem to
him, without question! He gazed at the artefact in front of him. He
drank the potion and pointed the wand at it. Pain. The diadem
glowed.
That stupid woman! How dare she insult his mother? Not that he
cared about his weak mother, but it was the principle of the thing!
And she possessed Salazar Slytherin's locket! It rightfully belonged
to him, the descendant of Slytherin. He looked at the golden cup in
front of him. Hufflepuff's chalice. He drank the potion and pointed the
wand at it. Pain. The cup glowed.
What a worthless family. He had just eliminated the McKinnons for
daring to stand up to him and his Death Eaters; they would serve as
an example to others who wanted to rebel against him and also send
a strong message to the Ministry of Magic and Albus Dumbledore.
He looked at the locket in front of him – Salazar's locket. He eagerly
drank the potion and pointed his wand at the locket. The pain was a
lot lesser than before. The locket glowed.
Harry gasped as he opened his eyes, his heart thumping wildly. He
went over to the Floo in his study and threw the powder into the
polished granite fireplace. "Black Castle," he shouted as he was
engulfed by the green flames.
The Black Library was truly a horrifying place to be in if you did not
approve of dark magic.
The Blacks were perhaps the most notorious of all the families in
Europe who dabbled in such magic or at least studied it. They did
not go too deep and actually break the laws of magic, but they did
insist on studying it all. They were a paranoid bunch as there was no
telling when someone could use the most dangerous of magic
against the family. And the Blacks had to prevail at all cost.
That's why there were books on Horcruxes in the secret library which
was accessible only to the Head of House, deep inside Black Castle.
Harry had searched the Potter library, but not one book even
mentioned the word Horcrux. He wasn't too surprised though. The
Potters had their fair share of books on dark magic in their library,
but Horcruxes were a taboo subject around the world; even dark
wizards suppressed all knowledge of it as they knew of the
consequences of splitting one's soul, but of course, Voldemort never
did anything halfway – or ever listened to others.
"I can't believe the fool actually created one," said Sirius grimly.
"According to Scorpius Black III, creating a Horcrux goes against the
sacred laws of Magic. Tearing your soul is something that shouldn't
be done. To think Voldemort created one at the age of sixteen is
horrifying."
"It says here that a Horcrux can only be destroyed by something
which is so destructive that it can't repair itself," said Amelia.
"Basilisk venom worked against the diary," Harry interrupted. "What
else?"
"According to Virgo Black, Fiendfyre and the Killing Curse work too,"
said Sirius.
"I can perform the Killing Curse, but not Fiendfyre," Harry shrugged.
"What?" he asked defensively when he caught them staring at him.
Sirius pursed his lips, giving him a penetrating look. "We'll talk about
that later," he said quietly. "Virgo Black managed to split the soul of a
rabbit and contain it in a metal jar; though how he did it is beyond
me. He used the Killing Curse on it which worked. The curse itself
works on the soul, so it is effective. Horcruxes are meant to be
heavily protected and very, very few people can effectively perform
the Killing Curse. Even amongst the Death Eaters, not all of them
could cast it. I know I can't."
"Neither can I," admitted Amelia. "Any idea of how you were able to
access Voldemort's memories?"
"Grandfather Alfred said something about a possession by
Voldemort which was lodged in my scar. It was removed and
destroyed by my house-elves when I was seven."
"Possession?" asked Sirius suspiciously. "No, that doesn't add up. I'll
look into it."
"In the meantime, I'll see if I can access more of those memories