Chapter 92: Into the Deep

If you want to support me check out my patréon at https://www.patréon.com/athassprkr

I tend to upload drafts of early chapters on there to get people's opinions of them so you can read up to 20 chapters ahead as a bonus.

I would like to thank my beta, Akisu, for his help in this chapter.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------

16 November 1992, Hogwarts

He was a Horcrux. So, what would a Horcrux need? He didn't have any magic, hence the need to possess people. Wait a minute, Harry was thinking of Riddle as its own independent person. But he wasn't, was he?

Harry stood up with a huge grin on his face and just exclaimed, "You're a genius, Daph!"

He then kissed her hair and ran out of the Great Hall. He had a Diadem to find, after all.

The Room of Hidden Things was infinitely large, at least it looked that way. And if there was one way to describe it, it would be chaotic. The first time he saw it, he was awed. It was a single room that was about as large as a cathedral from a first glance, but Harry had learnt that its size was nothing more than an illusion. He hadn't found an end to the room yet in over a year of exploration. Paradoxically, the room was illuminated by the windows that were high up on the walls. There had to be some kind of illusion or space warping to have that kind of effect, but the light illuminated the room in a way that made it look like a city with towering walls, built of what Harry knew must be objects hidden by generations of Hogwarts students.

There were alleyways and roads bordered by teetering piles of broken and damaged furniture, stowed away, perhaps, to hide the evidence of mishandled magic, or else hidden by the castle's proud house elves. There were thousands and thousands of books, no doubt banned or graffitied or stolen. There were winged catapults and Fanged Frisbees, some still with enough life in them to hover half-heartedly over the mountains of other forbidden items; there were chipped bottles of congealed potions, hats, jewels, cloaks; there were what looked like dragon-egg shells, corked bottles whose contents still shimmered evilly, several rusting swords and a heavy, blood-stained axe.

But the idea of treasure hunting here was a foolish one. Most objects had their enchantment withering away over the years. It was a side effect of standard enchantment. The truth was that 'permanent enchantment' is nothing more than an illusion, at least to the average wizard. Enchantments just aren't permanent, there's always a leakage of magic when it's used, hell even if it's staying idle. For all its wonder, magic acted often like energy, and well, a perfectly magically sealed environment was unlikely. A few skilled practitioners go around this issue by anchoring runes that allow them to absorb ambient magic, but that overcomplicated the designs and made the product far more expensive. After all, Rune experts are very rare in the isle. For some reason, the field was often dismissed by the masses, that liked using wand magic more.

Although Harry did read mentions of artefact creation, which somehow permanently enchants an object from scratch without rune anchoring it. But he couldn't find anything concrete about the field itself in the library. So much that he doubted its existence if it wasn't for the fact that there are many relics of past magic that still function today without anchoring runes.

So, yeah, the Room of Hidden Things was pretty much useless to the average wizard. There wasn't any gold, since the house elves put any lost money into the school fund instead of just throwing it away. The enchanted items have faded away, so they were useless. And the items still holding any magic, few as they may be, are almost all broken. The only treasure there were the endless books in the room, and the items hidden in the suitcases and pouches that were thrown there.

Honestly, Harry could probably get a fair bit of gold just looking around in this room and stealing anything interesting, but the issue was the fact that it would be extremely time consuming. The Room of Hidden Things just didn't take any commands. It just didn't change in any way, no matter how Harry worded his request, so he would need to do it manually.

But Harry wasn't there for any of that, he needed to find a specific thing, a Diadem to be exact.

He was going after the Horcrux, a lot earlier than he should have. He didn't dare do it the previous year since Voldemort was in the castle and messing around with it might have alerted the dark lord. But now, he was dealing with another Horcrux.

Honestly, Harry was theorizing here, but Horcruxes were connected. They had to be for them to work as anchors for Voldemort's soul together, like a net stopping his bodiless soul from moving on constantly. Divided or not, every single soul anchor was a part of Voldemort, a shard of his very self. They all had to be connected in some way. To be completely frank, the Potter scion knew very little about souls, but for some reason, that felt more natural in a way that he simply didn't know how to discuss.

And a magical connection could be piggybacked. It could be used to find the real thing, Harry only needed to be careful that he was only looking for the diary and not somehow alert Voldemort of someone messing with his Horcruxes. From the stories in his previous life, Voldemort did not feel his Horcruxes being destroyed, but the Potter scion how much his stories could be wrong in a few issues.

But what if he didn't really piggyback on the connection? What if he used it to divine the location of the Diary? His magical crest did press on the power of divination, and a small scrying ritual could be done easily enough. It should be harmless and untraceable for the actual wraith of Voldemort since he wouldn't be the target anyway. Yeah, Harry only needed to find the diary.

The Potter scion didn't know how much time it took for him to find the diadem. The room was that massive and there was so much magic around that it made Harry have a headache whenever he used his Arcane Hearing. However, after what felt like hours, a glimmer caught Harry's eye. He didn't know if it was a pinging of his Arcane Hearing, or if he had somehow seen it, but he instinctively turned towards it.

There, resting on a stone pedestal adorned with intricate carvings, was the Diadem of Ravenclaw. The crown-like artefact emanated an ethereal glow, its silver surface reflecting the soft light from the windows.

The Diadem itself was a delicate masterpiece of craftsmanship. Its base was formed by a band of silver, meticulously etched with intricate designs resembling birds in flight. The birds, eternally frozen in a dance of elegance and grace, seemed to be the embodiment of Ravenclaw's wise spirit. The edges of the Diadem curved gently upwards, forming a semi-circular arc that would sit gracefully upon one's head.

Studded along the arc were gleaming sapphires, their deep blue hues capturing the essence of the night sky. Each gemstone was meticulously cut, reflecting light in a way that hinted at the vast knowledge locked within their depths. As Harry moved closer, the sapphires seemed to wink at him, almost inviting him to explore the secrets concealed within the Diadem.

The centrepiece of the Diadem was a large, exquisitely crafted raven, its wings outstretched as if poised for flight. The raven's beady onyx eyes sparkled with a mischievous intelligence, capturing Harry's gaze and drawing him deeper into the artefact's enchanting aura. The raven's feathers were carved with extraordinary precision, their feathery texture so lifelike that one could almost feel the softness beneath their fingertips.

As Harry reached out to touch the Diadem, his Arcane Hearing let out a severe warning. The Potter scion jolted back in panic. Holy shit, that Diadem was dangerous. The compulsion was so subtle, that Harry didn't even notice that it had taken hold. Hell, it didn't even seem to affect his mind but acted more like a cheering charm that's modified towards curiosity and wonder. Now, that he could feel it, he could tell what it was. Damn, Voldemort was a subtle asshole. If it hadn't been for his Arcane Hearing, he didn't know what could have happened, but it wouldn't be good for him, that's for sure.

Choosing to freak out later, Harry decided to just go through with his original plan. He wanted to go back to the common room. His friends were probably worried about him. So, he took out some chalk from his bag, sat down on the ground, and started drawing the ritual circle. He then took out a few candles and lit them at certain places around the circle.

It was a basic ritual that was more spell-like than the actual arcane magic that came with normal ritualism. Harry didn't want anything to do with that, since they tended to be unpredictable. But old diviners wanted standard ways to scry cursed objects without risking a major accident. It wasn't the most powerful or subtle method of scrying, but it worked, and it also made sure that the object itself wouldn't influence the castor in many ways.

With the chalk done, Harry levitated the Diadem towards the middle of the circle and started muttering the incantation, "Anam Draíochta, Lorg Aigne agus Turas Fógra!" over and over again.

It was a Gaelic ritual and incantation, which roughly translated to 'Magical Soul, Mind Discovery and Notice Journey'. One part of the incantation summoned the magic, the next one invoked the search of mind, and the last one changes the purpose of the incantation to be a scrying one.

The chalk around the Diadem started to glow and slowly disappeared, the candles blew themselves suddenly, and the Diadem itself started to glow. Slowly, the Room of Hidden Things disappeared and images began to form around him. Somehow, Harry could feel that the incantation could continue in two roads, one was blue and orderly, while the other was dark and sinister. Knowing that it would be Riddle's path, Harry reluctantly chose the dark path. He would have loved to see the founder herself with his own eyes, but he had a mission to fulfil.

The moment made his choice, he saw flashes of an older Tom Riddle, his face twisted with malice with ominous glowing red eyes. There were many ways to proceed, and Harry pushed the word Diary to the front of his mind. The ritual seemed to understand and focused on the Diary. He saw the younger version of the Dark Lord with anguish on his face pick the first thing he had on hand to use Myrtle's accidental death as a sacrifice for his first Horcrux. There was this desperation and fear that were being shown.

But as fascinating as this might be, Harry didn't want to see the past, only the present and the ritual seemed to understand. He saw Lucius Malfoy put the diary in the cauldron that Ginny Weasley was holding, but the cauldron didn't actually belong to her. She was holding it for her friend who came shopping with them and went to get all her books. By the time it was finished, Ginny handed back her cauldron to her friend and took her own from her mother.

Lucius Malfoy had planned on everything, but he made a mistake. It was obviously a ploy to take out his political rival, but it backfired and now his heir was in danger, not that the man knew it.

Harry couldn't see who Ginny's friend was, so, he focused more on her. He kept going until he could see her properly. And it didn't take long for Harry to see a familiar girl with dirty blonde hair and silver eyes that was writing in her Diary. A lonely girl that just wanted a friend so desperately that she gave her heart out to the first person who accepted her. Luna Lovegood.

Too bad it happened to be an evil diary that wanted to possess her. Honestly, Harry had forgotten about the young girl, preoccupied with his search for the Diary. She was one of his suspects, sure, but he had dismissed that list entirely since Riddle seemed to be one step ahead of him all this time.

But that's it, Harry had found the Diary. However, before he could do anything else, a ghostly version of Riddle came out from the diary that Luna was writing in, his eyes wide and screaming, "BEGONE!!!"

Whatever Riddle had done, it absolutely destabilized the ritual which turned off. There was also some kind of mental attack that came with it. This was all Harry could think of before he realized that he was actually physically pushed into the air, and he crashed into a few broken tables. It didn't take long for him to black out after that.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------

If you want to support me check out my patréon at https://www.patréon.com/athassprkr

I tend to upload drafts of early chapters on there to get people's opinions of them so you can read up to 20 chapters ahead as a bonus.

Thank you guys for your support in these hard times.