the siphon | h. potter

~twenty two~

They were almost to the edge of the long bridge. Cassandra stopped moving forward. On either side of them was only air. The stream leading into the Black Lake was flowing a few hundred feet below them. If Cassandra focused, she could almost hear the water slapping the rocks. She stared to the ground far below as she processed Dumbledore's words.

"How do we find these objects? How many are there? How do we destroy them?"

"I don't yet know how to destroy them or how many there are; but I've known Tom for a long time. He was cold and proud even as a boy. I don't think he would chose to store his soul in any old object. He values himself too much. He would hide it in something meaningful, something he views as almost important as him. Harry destroyed the first one almost four years ago in the Chamber of Secrets."

"His diary..." Cassandra mumbled. She had remembered Harry's story about the Chamber of Secrets and the diary that Voldemort had used to possess Ginny Weasley.

"Yes, his diary. And I think I've found another."

Cassandra took a deep breath, "Well... what are we waiting for?"

A few moments later, Cassandra was standing outside a small village surrounded by rolling green hills. Atop the tallest hill was a large black manor. It was obviously once an impressive structure. But now, even from a distance, it was clear the house was left to rot away.

The view of the nearby cemetery sent chills through Cassandra. It embodied every dark stereotype about graveyards. It was dark, filled with fog, and very unsettling.

Dumbledore didn't walk into town, or towards the graveyard, but into the nearby brush. Cassandra reluctantly followed.

He used his wand to clear away the remaining bunches and overgrown grass. Once it was no longer obscured, a crumbling shack appeared before them. It was hard to see due to being covered in vines and other vegetation. The shack blended in with the forest.

"Where are we?"

"This is the former house of the Gaunt family. Merope Gaunt was Voldemort's mother."

"Oh..." Cassandra blinked. His pure blood mania and affinity for rich and powerful families suddenly makes sense. The people who crave power too much are always the people who once had too little.

"During Tom's later years at Hogwarts, a small ring with a black stone was always seen hugging his finger. It was a family ring, passed down through the Gaunt family for generations. He was very proud of it."

"Important enough to hide his soul inside?"

Dumbledore smiled, "Yes, I think so."

They entered the small shack. The door nearly feel off it's hinges as it opened. The rest of the building wasn't in much better shape. Cassandra slowly began walking through the battered room and Dumbledore did the same.

Wands provided the only light inside the dark living room. They illuminated the previously unseen details of the shack. All of the surviving furniture was covered with at least an inch of dust and debris. The floor boards were rotting. And the vines covering the outside the house had managed to slip through the cracks in the stone and was no growing inside the house.

The old drawers strewn throughout the room held nothing but cobwebs and dirt. The ring was no where to be found. Cassandra couldn't imagine anything of importance could be hiding in the rubble of this disgusting house.