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[HP] 63: Voldemort? That’s It?
🕑 Added 2025-07-30 15:30:02 +0000 UTCSince the Ravenclaw Diadem was one of Voldemort’s Horcruxes, containing a fragment of his split soul, Louis had no intention of putting it into his storage space—that’s why he went to all this trouble.
Sure, the soul fragment in the original story never acted up and seemed completely dormant, but Louis wasn’t about to bet on that. What if it suddenly sprouted some creepy phantom limbs and started messing with his stuff?
His things were valuable. If they got damaged, even selling Voldemort and the Death Eaters together wouldn’t cover the loss.
To avoid getting spotted on his way back with the Ravenclaw Diadem, Louis wrapped it in layers of old fabric and junk he found nearby.
Naturally, this meant the Diadem—which had probably already gathered decades of dust—got even filthier. But really, it wasn’t like the rest of the junk in that room was any cleaner, so what was the point in fussing?
Not like he was going to wear it.
While rummaging, Louis also found a large piece of dragonhide, a top-tier material for blocking magical interference. At Hogwarts, professors constantly reminded students how important dragonhide gloves were when handling herbs and magical materials.
This chunk alone could fetch at least fifty Galleons. Wrapping the Diadem in it made Louis feel much safer.
Before leaving the Room of Hidden Things in the Room of Requirement, Louis placed a teleportation marker on a cracked crystal ball for easy return access, then finally left.
As he stepped out, he was once again greeted by that cursed tapestry of trolls beating up Barnabas the Barmy. When he turned back, the door behind him vanished instantly, transforming back into an ordinary stone wall with no sign a door had ever existed.
Magic in this world really doesn’t play by any rules, Louis sighed quietly as he walked away.
Back in the dorm, no one else was around—not because Louis had scared them off, but because they were all watching the Slytherin Quidditch team practice.
Perfect.
Louis stood by the newly repaired dormitory door and activated his Mystic Eye of Distortion, distorting the entryway so anyone who tried to walk in would find themselves walking back out.
Once he confirmed it was foolproof, he gently shoved away the clingy Fafnir and unwrapped the tightly packed dusty diadem, dropping it onto the desk.
A Horcrux—the most critical plot device in the Harry Potter world. Voldemort’s secret to immortality. Horcruxes were nearly indestructible, and only a few things were known to destroy them: basilisk venom and Fiendfyre.
The Killing Curse could destroy the soul fragment in Harry, but that was a special case. Harry’s soul shard wasn’t made with proper rituals—it was the byproduct of magical backlash.
The Sword of Gryffindor couldn’t destroy a Horcrux either… at least, not until it had been soaked in basilisk venom. And the basilisk? Still chilling in the Chamber of Secrets. Louis had tried to reach it, but without busting through the outer layers, there was no way down.
So, for now, Voldemort’s Horcruxes were theoretically invincible.
But logic always has a nemesis: other logic.
“I wonder if my best sword from back home can split this thing in half…” Louis mused, pulling out the most ornate blade from his personal sword collection.
In theory, this was the finest blade in the country, capable of cutting anything within national borders.
And since Hogwarts wasn’t part of any city or township, that effect should be valid here.
But the blade’s enchantment was only good against material targets. Even if it could slice through Voldemort’s magically protected Diadem, it wouldn’t do squat to his soul fragment.
…A detail Louis had clearly forgotten.
He raised the sword and swung down on the Ravenclaw Diadem.
Suddenly, black mist erupted from the Diadem, swallowing all surrounding light. The darkness became so dense, it was impossible to see anything.
Within that swirling blackness, Louis—still gripping his sword—saw shifting illusions and heard a raspy, seductive voice whispering temptations into his ear.
> “Wear me… and you’ll gain limitless wisdom. You’ll stand alongside Rowena Ravenclaw herself. You’ll earn eternal glory… and riches beyond imagining…”
The illusion shaped itself into Louis’s own image, wearing the Diadem, surrounded by mounds of Galleons and treasure, Hogwarts professors praising his brilliance.
“…That’s it?” Louis tilted his head. “No mention of unbeatable power or anything?”
The black mist shuddered slightly, then swirled again.
The illusion changed—now he was shown defeating Dumbledore in a duel, wand in hand, victorious and triumphant.
> “Wear me… and you’ll master magic beyond comprehension. Even Dumbledore will fall before you.”
“…Still not impressed.” Louis curled his lip in disdain. “What’s the point of being powerful if it just means dying alone? Lame.”
The black fog stuttered like a jammed gear. It stayed frozen for a long time before churning again.
> “Since ancient times, women love heroes. Power brings respect. Wear me, and all women will adore you!”
New illusions appeared—gorgeous, scantily clad women flirting with the crown-wearing Louis. Among them were even a few familiar faces.
But Louis was more focused on something else: the voice sounded… impatient. And a bit weak.
“…This is what you’ve got?” Louis grinned wide.
> “ENOUGH! PUT ME ON! I’LL GRANT YOU ALL YOUR DESIRES!”
The black fog roared. Something monstrous seemed to twist inside it. Clearly, the strategy had changed: since temptation didn’t work, it was moving to intimidation.
The oppressive aura and terrifying noise would overwhelm any average eleven-year-old.
But Louis was not your average eleven-year-old.
Even physically, he could flip a tank with one hand and wrestle a tiger to death. Did they really think this amateur haunted-house routine could scare him?
And the temptations? Weak. All it had done was pull surface-level subconscious desires and weave them into cheap fantasies. You call that a proper test of willpower?
Louis was tempted to bring out the thing he’d prepared just for Voldemort, but figured it wasn’t time yet. Better to squeeze some value out of this Horcrux before scaring it into silence.
His backup plan was the Soul-Stealing Scroll of Mejia.
Even if his best sword could destroy the Diadem itself, it couldn’t deal with Voldemort’s soul fragment. But the scroll? One soul-suck and—clean, efficient, eco-friendly.
That was a last resort, though.
So why wasn’t he destroying the Horcrux yet?
Simple—because Voldemort’s soul fragments were disconnected from the main soul after his first death. That made them perfect untapped wells of Trick Points.
Each fragment was a pristine, unexploited con target.
Why rush? Better to coax it along, squeeze every drop of value, and then toss it when it’s dry.
Tell Dumbledore? Absolutely not.
What’s the fun in telling Dumbledore right away?
Where’s the surprise?
The real play is to wait until Dumbledore’s stressing out about a missing Horcrux and then dramatically drop it on him:
“Oh, that Horcrux? Yeah, it’s right here. Surprise!”
Perfect plan.
***
