The three brothers remained silent for a few minutes, allowing Harry to digest the horrific information they had shared.
They knew it was a hard and bitter thing to learn about and they gave him all the time they could.
In those quiet moments, Harry’s mind raced through a storm of emotions.
Disgust, rage, anger and hatred.
Harry exhaled a deep breath, calming down his emotions and regaining his composure.
“So, in order to completely kill Voldemort, I must find all the Horcruxes and destroy them?” He questioned, his voice steady and laced with a quiet confidence.
The three brothers nodded in response.
Ignotus was the first to speak.
“Destroying a Horcrux is no simple feat,” he said.
“Because they are so rare and forbidden, there are very few verified methods to destroy them.”
“Theoretically, a Killing Curse would destroy the soul fragment within the vessel,” he continued.
“And while Basilisk venom clearly does the trick, as you saw with the diary, it destroys the vessel itself.”
“If Voldemort has used precious or historical artifacts as vessels, you may want to consider other options.”
He leaned forward slightly and almost whispered.
“In our memories, you will find several rituals related to soul magic,” he said.
“You can study them to see if they provide a cleaner solution.”
“How do we deal with the soul piece in my head?” Harry nodded and asked.
“And is there any way to actually locate the others?”
“I have a possible method,” Antioch replied, “though I cannot be certain it will work.”
“If it does, however,” he added, “finding the remaining Horcruxes will become quite easy for you.”
Harry waited, hanging on his every word.
“By utilizing the soul piece latched onto your forehead, you may be able to access Voldemort’s memories,” Antioch explained.
“When we move to remove it, you must not let the fragment simply fade away.
Instead, you must absorb its essence.
Because of the lingering connection between that fragment and the main soul, you might gain access to his memories right up to the current moment.”
“What are the chances of that actually working?” Harry questioned, a mix of hope and trepidation in his voice.
“I cannot give you a guarantee,” Antioch admitted.
“But based on the stinging pain you described whenever you are near him or his artifacts, it is clear there is a functional bridge between these broken pieces of soul.
If we can stabilize that bridge before we break it, knowledge should flow to you and you should be able to absorb it.”
“Okay.” Harry said, his face turning determined.
“There is nothing wrong with giving that a try,” Harry replied. Read this novel at g.com for the best experience.
He paused for a moment and added.
“One final clarification.”
“Ask,” Cadmus responded.
“You mentioned the complicated ritual required to turn something into a Horcrux.
How was I turned into one?” Harry asked.
“Souls are an obscure topic, Harry,” Antioch sighed, “and much of our understanding is based on theory.”
“It could be that he had prepared the ritual and had not yet split his soul before he attacked you, and an accident occurred.”
“Or, perhaps he turned you into one willingly.”
“It is also possible,” he continued, “that because he had already split his soul so many times, it had become unstable, and a fragment simply broke off and latched onto the only living thing it could find.
Nothing can be said with absolute certainty.”
Harry nodded.
It seemed he will have to do his own research to find out how he was turned into a Horcrux.
“Now, before we deal with Voldemort, let us tell you about the method to bypass those blood wards,” said Ignotus.
The three brothers proceeded to explain a remarkably simple yet effective method to deal with the wards at Privet Drive.
With that settled, it was finally time to face the darkness within Harry’s own mind.
The three brothers turned, and Cadmus muttered, “Follow us, Harry.”
With that, the three brothers began to float into the air, gliding toward the distant mountain ranges.
“How do I follow you?” Harry questioned in bewilderment.
“I do not know how to fly.”
“This is your mindscape, Harry,” Antioch chuckled over his shoulder.
“You can do whatever you wish.”
Though Harry was confused, he willed to fly and Harry felt his body grow weightless.
In an instant, he was soaring, following the brothers with a grace he usually only felt on a broomstick.
After only a few moments of flight, the group crossed two jagged mountain ranges and descended deep into a very deep gorge.
The closer Harry got to the bottom, the more he felt a kind of sickening, unpleasant chill emanating from the gorge.
A sense of pure, unadulterated evil seemed to be radiating from the depths of the ravine.
“The sheer size of your mind is the only reason Voldemort has not been able to take control of you.
Had we not stirred, it would not have been much longer before he controlled you completely.”
Harry shuddered at the thought.
He wondered if Dumbledore knew about these Horcruxes.
He was certain the Headmaster knew about the soul piece.
He had dropped too many hints about the connection with Voldemort for it to be a coincidence.
The only question left was whether Dumbledore was aware of just how close Harry had come to being possessed.
Finally, they reached the floor of the gorge.
In the center stood a small, windowless stone structure with no apparent opening.
“As soon as you leave here, Harry, remove the blood wards and claim the Lordship of the Peverell family.
You will find a small surprise waiting for you,” Antioch said with a smile.
“And live a full life.
Do the things that make you happy,” Cadmus added softly.
“You have lived a tough life, Harry.
Do not burden yourself more than necessary.”
“You can deal with Voldemort easily enough,” he added, “just ensure you let no one manipulate you again.”
“Although this is something you would eventually learn from the inheritance, I must tell you now.
You are my descendant,” Ignotus informed him.
Seeing the look of shock on Harry’s face, he chuckled.
“The Potters are of my blood, Harry.
Out of fear of our legacy being destroyed, we left our true power to a Magical Heir rather than a blood descendant, but it feels good to know that one of my own lineage has been chosen by both Magic and Death,” he added with a warm smile.
Harry wanted to speak, to thank the three men who had shown him more honesty in a few hours than he had received in years, but they had already begun walking toward the stone structure.
A single tear trickled down his cheek.
Though he had only just met them, he could feel that they truly cared for his well-being.
He realized then that even when he had trusted Dumbledore, back when the Headmaster maintained that grandfatherly persona, he had never felt this kind of genuine connection.
Dumbledore always spoke in riddles, playing his private games, and there had not been a single instance where the old man had offered help without strings attached.
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