In Nomine Amoris

Chapter Thirteen: A Roaring Discovery

Harry managed to find his way down through the darkness, though he stumbled over the bottom step of the long, winding staircase. He vaguely wondered just how far below the surface of Godric's Hollow he had descended. He imagined he had traveled at least a kilometer, but who was to say the staircase was not enchanted to bring him farther?

Once Harry regained his footing on the dirt-packed ground, he realized he was facing the beginning of a daunting tunnel.

He sighed, wondering now whether or not Ron and Hermione had come looking for him. Harry hoped they would not jump to any drastic conclusions. Hermione, at least, would have the sense to check every nook and cranny of the place. It was not as if Harry had not left a clear trail of his whereabouts, after all.

A trek of ten minutes later, Harry began to see un-lit torches in their brackets along the sides of the tunnel. Harry remembered what he had done earlier to light the hall upstairs.

"Lumos!" And then a deluge of firelight cast out the darkness.

Finally, Harry came to a set of oak double doors, which greatly resembled the front doors of his parents' house. With a triumphant shout, he opened them easily.

Harry gasped sharply. He could not believe the massive expanse of scrolls of parchment, shelves upon shelves of book, and, on a few tables, whirring wizarding items, which, like Dumbledore's old ones that now belonged to Harry, were emitting puffs of smoke.

He just...well, why did his parents have such a room? The reason for its being concealed was clear--some sort of valuable information must have been kept in there during Voldemort's first pinnacle of power. But why them? Surely his parents were active in the Order, and in the tracking down of Voldemort, but even this was a bit extreme, was it not? Maybe if he explored the room, he would better understand.

So Harry ventured forth, to a shelf of books. Upon studying the rim of the shelf itself, he discovered it was labeled 'Locations.' He looked at the spines of the books, which all concerned the earth in its geographical aspect, including A Wizard's Guide to the Mediterranean Coast and Where Are You?--And More Importantly, Where the Hell Am I?

Harry removed Mediterranean Coast from its spot and sat down in an armchair. He opened the book to where a marker was placed, and landed on a map of Albania. The capital of the country was circled vigorously, and lined in asterisks. Harry found this quite the oddity. Had his parents vacationed there at some point? He could not remember Sirius or Lupin mentioning it in passing.

He laid the book on a nearby table and examined another shelf. This one was labeled 'What We Know' and was covered with neat piles of handwritten notes on parchment. He took the first stack of notes and returned to his seat.

Harry read the main title of the notes, and his heart skipped a beat. There, written in a tidy scrawl he assumed to be his mother's, was the word 'Horcruxes.'

Horcruxes! Harry dared not accept this. His parents...they couldn't possibly have known...could they have? As hard as he tried, he could not seem to wrap his mind around it. But as he further examined the notes, the more evident it became.

"They knew," Harry whispered to the empty room, his voice echoing throughout the hollow. "They knew."

Having come to grasp the truth, Harry was eager to know more. He turned through his mother's notes expectantly. So far, he had learned everything she had taken note of--what Horcruxes were, basically.

What was rather interesting to Harry was the notes his mother had written at the end of each blurb, stating what had occurred before or after the time she had obtained the piece of information. For Harry, it was a way to catch a glimpse of what life was like for Lily Potter.

His amusement faltered, however, when he read a note taken on the 31^st of October 1979: "Caradoc Dearborn had caught James and me at a most inconvenient time, while we were in a rather embarrassing position in our favorite spot in front of the fireplace, but we were able to continue later on..." Yes, after that, Harry avoided those. He loved his parents, but that was too much for even him to handle.

He skipped halfway into the stack, pausing on a starred note next to some sort of inventory:

Gryffindor's jewelry case, found c. 1978 by Aberforth Dumbledore in Dublin, Ireland.

Given to James and me on 13 November 1979, by Albus Dumbledore as an anniversary gift.

Tried opening it, nothing worked. Our bloody Horcrux-tester broke, but the item bears an aura of actual Horcrux activity. Perhaps its contents are/were a Horcrux of Lord Voldemort?

(Located in top right cabinet)

Harry turned to a set of cabinets he had overlooked before. He reached up to the top right one as directed by the notes, and found a small, velvet jewelry box inside. He slid the box toward himself, causing a cascade of dust to shower his fly-away hair. He coughed, waving the particles away and, taking the box carefully in one hand, sat again in his chair.

The box was intricately designed, with the monogram of a lion on its scarlet surface--obviously it had belonged to Godric Gryffindor. If his mum could not figure out how to open the jewelry case, how could he? He knew she had been an extremely intelligent witch, but was there something she hadn't attempted?

Hermione could probably help him, but there was one method he wanted to try, if only for kicks.

"In the name of love," said Harry clearly, tapping Gryffindor's box with his wand.

When nothing happened immediately, Harry believed it had not worked and slumped on the arm of the chair, glaring at the box. For once I would like to do something like this without Hermione's help...

But you have, Harry.

Hello, Professor.

Yes, hello--as I was saying, you figured out my letter on your own, didn't you?

Well, yeah, but--

Look, Harry.

Harry looked up as he was instructed, and saw, to his complete astonishment, that the box had snapped open.

A little faith goes a long way, Dumbledore reminded him. And then he was gone.

Harry anxiously lifted himself up and peered into the box. Inside a hole for a pendant was a small, folded slip of parchment. Once Harry studied the hole more closely, he found it was in the shape of an eagle. Curiosity overcoming him, he unfolded the parchment.

In my heart,

There it lies.

Wisdom I have not,

As you've surmised.

I amount to nothing

In thine eagle eyes.

Truth be told,

You never knew

That my heart

Belonged to you.

Easily forgotten,

True Love is.

But no matter, for,

Now you are hiss.

"Harry?" Hermione and Ron had finally found him. "What are you doing?" Hermione wished to know.

Harry turned to his friends, grinning broadly.

"Have you gone mental?" Ron responded to Harry's seemingly out-of-place expression.

"Hermione," asked Harry, ignoring Ron, "what do you know about the founders?"

"He really has gone mental," said Ron in a panicked voice, his face falling. "He wants to know about something that's surely in Hogwarts, A History!"

"Is that such a bad thing?" Hermione countered. Apparently she was still on a tight thread with Ron after his insinuations of Harry's family.

Harry interrupted as Ron opened his mouth to retort. "So Hermione, can you help me out?"

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Well, of course. I've read that God-forsaken book so many times! I just never know when it would come in handy..."

Ron then mumbled something that sounded like, "As in never."

"Sorry, Ron," she told him, feigning sweetness. "What was that?"

"Nothing," he grumbled.

"Good. Now, Harry," Hermione turned to him, "what have you found down here?"

Harry glanced around the room whimsically, saying, "Where to begin?"

"From where it started is always an appropriate place," she said, smiling patiently.

And so Harry relayed to his friends his finding of the Secret Room, the remarkable things he had unearthed there--the map of Albania and the notes on Horcruxes--and also, he showed them the enigmatic poem he had come upon in Godric Gryffindor's box.

"Strange," Hermione reflected aloud. "Though it is exceedingly clear, who Gryffindor is referring to."

Ron took the paper from Hermione and gave it the once-over. "He's talking about an eagle, right?"

Hermione nodded, encouraging his train of thought.

Comprehension dawned on Harry's face. "Or...someone who's like an eagle!"

"Very nice," Hermione congratulated the two of them. "So it's quite obvious--he wrote this note to Rowena Ravenclaw."

"But why?" Ron creased a ginger eyebrow. "Was Gryffindor in love with Ravenclaw?"

"I think so," Hermione said chewing her bottom lip in concentration. "At least, that's what legend states...I'll need a copy of Hogwarts, A History to check it. My trunk is in the entrance hall."

"Well, what are we waiting for?" asked Harry, standing to his full height. "This could lead us to one of Voldemort's Horcruxes!"

Ron and Hermione followed him, back through the tunnel, back up to the mighty breadth of Number Seven, and back into the past to find what might become a piece of their future.