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HP: Bloodraven Chapter 288 - The Boy Who Shall Live (IV)
🕑 Added 2025-12-07 09:27:16 +0000 UTCShards of crystal-like fragments shimmered in the air, and as if a veil of magic were being pulled away, Maverick emerged in the Chamber of Secrets, returning from the mirror dimension into reality.
It took a little longer than he expected though, since he had to do some work at the beginning. After all, one could not exactly use Legilimency on a soul, much less on a fragmented piece of one.
That said, Legilimency was not his only option, and he had the system of sorcery lined up and ready for a challenge like this.
To start with, it had a wider arsenal of psychic and mystical techniques for accessing and reading memories, most of which he had more or less mastered with the help of his cheat.
The Sands of Nisanti, for instance, was perhaps the most direct and non-invasive method for extracting and reviewing memories, however, it could only be used when a consciousness was anchored to a physical body, which was not the case here.
There was also Mystical Hypnosis, a simpler and more subtle approach that placed the target in a suggestible state so they could verbally recount their memories. Yet again, a physical body was required for the magic to take hold.
Actually, almost every spell, psychic, or psionic approach he knew required some kind of physical anchor, in other words, a body, before anything could even begin. Legilimency was therefore out of the question, as were the general spells of the mystic arc system.
Maverick had no choice but to improvise therefore, to carry out a small experiment of sorts. His choice of technique was something called Astral Projection Intrusion. It wasn’t something he created himself, but a legitimate practice within the mystic arts. However, because of its peculiar nature, it was not a method commonly known or widely used.
As the name implies, it was a direct probe in which sorcerers projected their astral form into the mind or psychic space of an enemy’s astral form. But this kind of forceful intrusion was extremely dangerous, especially when used on someone with extraordinary mental ability.
If the caster’s psychic awareness was weaker, there was a very real chance of the caster’s mind suffering a severe backlash. That was one of the main reasons it was not widely practiced.
Moreover, this method also required a physical anchor in order to pull the target’s astral form free, which leads to why Maverick had to improvise.
His first gamble turned out to be a success. He tested whether he could force an astral form out of the shadowy mass, and to his satisfaction, it moved into place without any resistance.
After all, technically the Horcrux was neither a pure soul nor a cleanly cut fragment of one, so he had always suspected this would work. It was not fully tangible and not fully intangible, existing in a strange middle ground, yet that narrow gap was all he needed.
And through that opening, Maverick managed to pull the astral form of Riddle, or rather the piece of his soul, out of the mass of darkness.
Surprisingly, the astral projection, even if it was only a piece of a soul, still looked human. Hideous, yes, with skin stretched tight over sharp bones, slitted red eyes that burned like embers, and nostrils flattened like a snake’s. Yet despite that monstrous distortion, it was still unmistakably human.
Maverick paid it no mind, not even giving it the slightest chance to speak. The moment the fragment tore itself free from the mass of darkness, he locked it in place and immediately pushed into its psychic space to probe its memories.
As for any danger, he felt none. His mental realm stood firm as a mountain, and even if Riddle were whole, Maverick would not have been concerned. Let alone a mere fragment like this, it was nothing to him.
Anyways, his objective was very specific, and he got what he needed very quickly. Turns out Nagini had not yet been created as a Horcrux, and Riddle, at the time before he died, was still contemplating what to use as his final vessel to store the last piece of his soul.
Heck, he hadn’t even considered the Maledictus at that point, and Maverick figured that idea only came to Voldemort after he resurrected himself. Well, it didn’t matter now.
He heaved a sigh of relief at the thought, then traced the last memory he needed and discovered that, as in the original work, Voldemort had indeed given Bellatrix the Hufflepuff Cup to safeguard it, very specifically instructing her to store it in Gringotts.
And with that, everything he wanted was taken care of. He had no intention of rummaging through the twisted mind any further, left the wicked thing’s psychic space, pulled its astral form back into the mass of darkness, and burned it to nothingness on the spot.
“Were you able to discern the whereabouts of the serpent?”
Not a breath after his feet touched the damp floor, he heard Dumbledore’s question and glanced at the old man with a raised brow. How long had it been... half an hour?
“Did you not move from that spot all this time?”
Dumbledore did not answer, his gaze remained fixed on Maverick expectantly, clearly not in the mood to be humored. Brushing off his shoulders, he also chose not to ask again and spared the man any further suspense.
“Tom hadn’t created the final Horcrux when he died and was still searching for the perfect vessel. From his memories, I’ve confirmed that the only remaining Horcrux now is the Hufflepuff Cup... not counting the wraith of course.”
Saying this, he glanced to the side and saw Sirius still attending to Harry, who remained unconscious.
“That makes five Horcruxes destroyed then?” asked Dumbledore as they began walking in Sirius and Harry’s direction.
“Yes.” Maverick nodded, then cast a sideways look at the old man as a thought occurred to him. “Do you think Riddle’s wraith could sense his Horcruxes?”
Dumbledore made a thoughtful expression, then shook his head slowly. “I have spent many years studying that most vile of magics, especially recently, drawing much from the chambers of the ancestors. Over time, I have come to understand its workings far more than most would dare to imagine… even Tom, dare I say.”
He paused halfway, likely not wanting Sirius to overhear, then continued. “Perhaps Tom was unaware of this, but when he split his soul, he was not merely hiding fragments… he was creating independent consciousnesses. Each fragment was not just a piece of him, but a fully self-contained entity, carrying a portion of his awareness and memories frozen at the moment of creation. His main soul and each split part became entirely separate, meaning each experiences the world on its own terms, completely blind to the fate of the others. Destroy a Horcrux, and the fragment dies in isolation... its loss is invisible to the main soul, incapable of registering its own destruction.”
“In other words, the main soul cannot sense its split parts at all, even if they are completely destroyed?”
“If they were nearby, perhaps a faint ripple might be felt. But in theory, no. Consider them like twins: no matter how alike they may be, each remains distinct. One cannot fully know the other’s pain or experiences.”
“And what if the main soul and a Horcrux were to achieve a physical body at the same time? Would they be the same?”
“No…” Dumbledore shook his head. “Take the diary, for instance, his first vessel. Even if the Dark Lord’s main soul were completely destroyed, and the shard within the diary were to resurrect, he would return only with the consciousness he possessed at the moment the Horcrux was created. In other words, it would be a sixteen-year-old boy, no more, no less. The fragment cannot inherit knowledge or awareness from the main soul that is created later.”
“Likewise with the rest,” he continued. “They could even resurrect themselves all at once, but since they would be separate consciousnesses, each would remain entirely independent.” The old wizard shook his head, pausing, a faint amusement in his eyes. “Hypothetically, if it were me, I would find it most fascinating to communicate with a consciousness identical to my own. But Tom… I very much doubt he would share the sentiment.”
Maverick chuckled. “Just imagine, seven egotistic morons all at once. I bet the first thing they would do is fight over who gets to be the main body.”
“True.” Dumbledore nodded with a faint smile. “I would not be surprised, knowing his nature, if they tried to devour one another. But that would not be possible either, because once the soul was split, there was no recovering from it. Even devouring was not an option.”
“I really cannot understand what made him do it, Headmaster. It’s not like we wizards have short lifespans for him to resort to such a foolish method for immortality.”
“Perhaps lifespan was not his concern,” Dumbledore answered thoughtfully. “What he feared most, I believe, was death. Splitting his soul and preserving it relieved him of that fear.”
“Hey! Are you both done?”
The two of them turned their heads, chuckled, brushed the discussion aside, and resumed walking.
“Anyways, Headmaster, there’s no need for us to worry about the serpent anymore. Tomorrow, I’ll try infiltrating Gringotts and take care of the final piece.”
“Would you require any assistance?”
Maverick chuckled aloud this time. “I’ll spare you decades of moral torment… besides, I already have a foolproof plan in mind.”
Coupled with the extraordinary stealth trait he gained from the legit invisibility cloak and the many sorcery spells and tricks in his arsenal, he wasn’t worried about getting caught in the slightest.
“Right then.” Stopping beside Sirius and the sleeping kid, Maverick let out a sigh and opened a portal that led directly to his office. “Let’s get him to a proper bed. He should wake up in a couple of hours.”
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