Chaos and Order - A Multiverse Fanfic

Chapter 1099: Dumbledore and Darcie - Gaunt Shack!

With a CRACK, Dumbledore and Darcie appeared on the outskirts of the remote village of Little Hangleton.

It was January’s last afternoon.

The biting cold had abated, but there was still no sign of the sun.

The sky was overcast with grey clouds, threatening a downpour.

Cold wind blasted from one corner of the world to another, making Darcie and Dumbledore’s robes flap noisily with every gust.

"Wands out, Darcie," Dumbledore said, his black eyes narrowing.

Darcie reached into the sleeves of her Slytherin robes and pulled out two wands.

In her right hand, she wielded the Willow Wood with a Thunderbird Emperor’s feather as a core, richly embroidered with golden decoration near the top. In her left hand, she held the legacy of Salazar Slytherin — Snakewood with a Basilisk’s Horn core.

Even though it happened only in her mind, because of her connection with the wands, a crackle of thunder with the cries of a Thunderbird and the slither of snakes with the hisses of a Basilisk did escape... entering Dumbledore’s ears.

Lord Black Phoenix involuntarily looked down at the two wands, his own wand trembling in his hand.

Black fire burned in his eyes, and he forcefully quietened that trembling.

Then, he lifted his gaze and looked at the girl, finding her looking at the wand he wielded.

Darcie took her eyes off that wand and looked up.

Their eyes met.

Silence.

"It took me a month to find this place," Dumbledore began, letting his experience drown the odd silence. "If he created more of them, then... there must be one here."

Darcie looked around, remembering what the Headmaster had shared with her that day.

Horcrux!

The darkest magic in the world that lets one divide one’s soul and store it in an object to gain some sort of artificial immortality.

The Headmaster hadn’t shared with her how he reached such a far-fetched conclusion that Voldemort had created such an object. However, he had shared that he had begun having doubts related to it because of Tom Riddle’s diary, which Harry and others had destroyed last year.

That diary, if the Headmaster was right, had held a piece of Voldemort’s soul, trying to possess any individual who would write down their secrets within, thinking it harmless.

The destroyed diary had possessed no such clue toward it being a Horcrux.

But, the manner of its... destruction, with Harry stabbing it with a Basilisk’s venomous fang, had alerted the Headmaster to its origin, leading him to conclude that there might be more such dark artifacts... more such Horcruxes!

This doubt had been bubbling in his mind for a long time, he had told her.

Then, on the New Year, when he had confronted the changed Dark Lord along with her, he had confirmed those doubts.

Presently, Darcie looked at nothing but a mass of dry woods that filled her surroundings.

She believed the Headmaster about Voldemort being foolish enough to go for such dark magic that could easily be exploited, especially if one had an ample amount of time and resources.

However, there were a few things that she didn’t get, either.

"I don’t understand, Professor," Darcie said, remembering the diary he had shown to her. "Why would he create these... Horcruxes and not keep them with him? It doesn’t make any sense."

Dumbledore let out a small smile at that.

Instead of replying, he began walking, forcing Darcie to follow his shadow closely.

"Tom was... is like that, Darcie," Lord Black Phoenix told her. "I don’t know... not for sure... how he learned of Horcruxes. However, what I am sure of is that he might have taken it for granted that no one else would ever know of them."

"Hmm..." Darcie nodded to herself, finding some sense in it. Even she had never heard of such magic, despite scouring the Restricted Section in the last two years... with Professor Snape’s permission, of course. "So... you think this place will have another Horcrux?"

Dumbledore nodded several times.

"We don’t know how many he created," he admitted. "But, if my memory and wits are serving me right, then... we can safely assume that he created a bunch of them... just to be on the safe side."

A bunch of them... Darcie repeated. Just how many did he kill...

Shaking her head, she brought her mind back to her surroundings.

"Where are we, Professor?" she asked, noticing no sign of any magic or movement whatsoever.

"Tom put a ridiculous value upon... being special," Dumbledore replied, keeping his eyes forward. "Pure-blood. Ancient artifacts. Myths of grandeur... He might have chosen objects that fall into the same category."

Darcie’s eyes narrowed. "The diary..."

"... belonged to him," Dumbledore reminded, finishing the sentence.

Darcie made an O with her mouth, realizing. "Quite conceited of him to put himself in that category..." she remarked. "So, this place has something similar?"

Before she could get an answer, Dumbledore paused.

Darcie, sensing something amiss, walked out from the Headmaster’s shadow and looked ahead.

There, in the distance, surrounded by a dense coverage of dead trees, was a dilapidated structure.

A shabby, little shack.

Despite the sharp, black branches hiding the path, Darcie could see a dead snake nailed to the front door.

"Know of the Gaunts, Darcie?" Dumbledore asked.

Darcie frowned. "One of the Sacred Twenty-Eight," she remembered, holding the wand in her left hand tighter. "Long dead. And... Salazar Slytherin’s known descendants."

"Hmm..." Dumbledore nodded, eying the shack. "This was where the last of them lived. Where the long line of Slytherin’s descendants supposedly came to an end."

"Supposedly?" Darcie picked the word. Then, her brows rose, connecting the dots. "So... he is indeed..."

"Yes," Dumbledore said. "Tom Riddle is indeed a descendant of Salazar Slytherin... from his mother’s side. If he created a Horcrux other than that diary, which now seems more than likely, there’s a great possibility of him hiding it here... where his mother used to live — the place which is a testament to his sacred heritage. And, if that’s true, then..."

Lord Black Phoenix looked away from the shack, his eyes falling on Slytherin’s wand.

"... then..." Darcie took a deep breath. "We must destroy it."

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