The ring was dead.
Dumbledore groaned softly, still slumped on the ground. Clarity finally returned to his eyes. He blinked up at Ben, stunned. "You destroyed it."
"Wasn't planning to put it on," Ben replied.
"That makes one of us," said Dumbledore. "How'd you do it?" he asked, wiping the blood dripping down his chin.
Ben shook the vial. "Yeah, funny thing. Turns out keeping a live basilisk around has its perks."
Dumbledore sat up, adjusting his half-moon glasses. "You still haven't told me where it lives."
Ben grinned. "And I'm not going to."
Dumbledore sighed. "You are remarkably unhelpful."
"And you're lucky I am. You nearly fingered a Horcrux to death."
That got a brittle, surprised laugh from the old man. He looked at his shaky hands, then at the ring's cracked remains, as if only just now registering how close he'd come.
"You saved me," he said, nodding his ancient head. "The temptation… it was stronger than I expected. Stronger than anything I've felt in years."
Ben shrugged. "I had no choice but to save you. It would have been really embarrassing if people found out that the greatest wizard of our time died to a stone from a children's book."
Dumbledore raised a brow, ignoring the snide remark. "You know what it is?"
"Yeah, I got 'The Tales of Beedle and the Bard' for my 5th birthday. I recognised it when I saw it in Riddle's memories, but I wasn't sure..." said Ben, honestly.
Dumbledore's eyes lingered on Ben. Then, slowly, he picked up the Resurrection Stone. Ben didn't stop him this time.
"Yet you were not tempted like I was. I imagine being inexperienced has its own perks. Not having experienced the kind of loss that comes with age or burdened with hubris," Dumbledore said.
"Oh, I was tempted, Headmaster. But as you said, it was able to resist it...somehow," said Ben, thinking about the shout that had emerged from somewhere deep inside his soul.
"I thought I could resist it too," Dumbledore continued, quieter. "But the moment I saw the ring, I knew I didn't stand a chance."
He looked down, almost ashamed.
"My obsession—the guilt. It fed the ring's curse. That is the truth of it. It didn't deceive me. It didn't trick me. I walked straight into it. I would have died for a few minutes with them. And I nearly did."
Ben didn't ask. He knew who Dumbledore was talking about.
Dumbledore cradled the Resurrection Stone between his fingers. "Power is always tempting. But memory… memory is the sharpest hook of all."
He turned the stone once in his palm, then twice, and then—after a long breath—closed his fist around it… and extended it to Ben.
"This—I cannot trust myself with. And I find I trust you less than I ought… but more than I expected."
Ben blinked. "You're sure? I mean… You don't want to try talking to them? Your sister, your mum?"
There was a long pause.
The old man leaned back and laughed—a short, startled laugh that turned into a cough.
"Mr Brown," he said, wiping his glasses, "you are a remarkable and deeply concerning boy."
"Yeah," Ben said quietly. "I get that a lot."
"Since you already know all about me," Dumbledore said, "I've no shame admitting that Ariana's death has been the defining obsession of my life."
Ben nodded.
"I've spent so many years living in the past," Dumbledore went on. "Grief, regret, longing—I wore them like robes. And for what? I thought I could make myself good through power. But I was only becoming more dangerous."
"You're not the only one who thought that," Ben said. "You just lived long enough to admit it."
Dumbledore gave him a sorrowful look, and Ben even saw a bit of gratitude.
"It's time I let them rest. My sister, Ariana. My mother, Kendra. And the ghosts of everyone else I've been carrying on my shoulders."
The Resurrection Stone lay heavy in Ben's hand now. He nodded, slowly. "You made the right call."
Dumbledore studied him, a flicker of curiosity behind the exhaustion. "Did I?"
"Everyone who's used this stone has died for it," Ben said. "You wouldn't have been the exception. I've seen that much."
Dumbledore gave a faint smile. "Then I'm glad the Resurrection Stone—and the Invisibility Cloak—are in your safe hands."
Ben didn't react. He wasn't shocked, if that's what Dumbledore was expecting. He knew it was only a matter of time before Dumbledore figured it out. He was just too impressive to be able to fly under the radar.
"But I'll keep hold of the final Hallow," Dumbledore added, "so you don't end up repeating my mistakes."
Ben let out a smile. "You might not believe it, but I don't have the cloak, Headmaster."
"Ah," said Dumbledore lightly. "I see."
"Yes. I destroyed it. And I'm going to do the same to this stone. The Hallows go against the natural order. That includes the one you hold."
Dumbledore smiled, amused and seemingly unconvinced. "I've tried to master death, Mr Brown. And all I did was delay its mercy."
He looked at Ben with serious eyes now. "It seems it's your turn to be tested."
They sat in silence a moment longer, the stink of dark magic slowly fading from the air.
Ben stood and dusted himself off. "Alright, come on, Gandalf. Let's go before this place collapses in on us both."
Dumbledore chuckled as he got to his feet. "I hope you mean the White, and not the Grey."
"Of course. There's not one grey hair left on your head, you know."
And with that, they stepped back into the woods, the shack crumbling behind them.
One more piece of Voldemort's soul gone to rot.
-
With a muted crack, a figure Apparated into a quiet alcove just behind the familiar red and gold signs of Platform 9¾.
The air smelled like old soot and train oil. A flock of pigeons took flight overhead.
Ben blinked. For a second, he thought the world had gone grey — but no, that was just the platform before the Hogwarts Express arrived.
He stood there alone for a while.
For someone who'd just destroyed a Horcrux and shut down the literal temptation of Death itself to save an old man's life, being ditched at the station felt… anticlimactic.
And kind of rude.
"Thanks for the lift, old man," Ben muttered to no one. "Next time, why don't you just drop me in a pond?"
Thankfully, it wasn't too early.
Moments later, he spotted two familiar faces weaving through the growing crowd.
His dad in his Ministry robes, mum in her rabbit-fur-lined jacket, holding a paper bag full of something that definitely smelled like scones. And next to them — bouncing with barely-contained energy — was Dobby.
"Benji!" Dorothea called.
Ben braced himself and then found himself wrapped in his mum's arms before he could say a word. Nigel gave him a firm pat on the back.
"Thought you were coming back on the train," his father said.
"Change of plans," Ben replied with a shrug. "Headmaster's idea. Wanted to make sure I got home in one piece."
"Headmaster? What happened?" Dorothea asked, frowning.
Ben smiled, raising both hands. "Relax. I'm not expelled."
Dorothea narrowed her eyes. "You're sure?"
"Positive. I'm just too awesome. So Dumbledore decided to personally escort me out of school."
Their faces didn't relax.
Especially not Nigel's.
Ben leaned in. "Honestly. It was just a private errand. Headmaster was heading this way, and I hitched a ride."
Dorothea pressed her lips together, clearly unconvinced, but she nodded. Nigel exhaled.
Dobby let out a delighted squeak. "Master Ben is home! Home early! Dobby has made the cottage perfect! Dobby has done the dishes and scrubbed the barn and charmed the cabbages not to bite!"
Ben laughed. "That's great, Dobby. I look forward to your first performance review."
The little elf beamed with pride. "Dobby has also prepared dinner! Rabbit stew and roasted parsnips and pudding with extra nutmeg! Dobby has become very competent!"
Dorothea blinked. "He actually has."
"Good," said Ben. "Because I'm starving, and my soul's had a long day."
"Come on then," said Nigel, resting a hand on Ben's shoulder. "Let's go home."
They Disapparated together, the platform returning to quiet behind them.
Home smelled like roast and cinnamon and warmth.
Ben didn't say much during dinner, but he didn't have to. His parents didn't ask too many questions, Dobby buzzed around like a caffeinated bumblebee, and for a few hours, Ben let himself enjoy this warm environment.
He knew things were far from okay at home, but since his parents were doing their best not to let him feel any of it, he could only respect their intentions.
He let himself enjoy the peace tonight.
There'd be time enough tomorrow to fix everything.
-End of Chapter-
Dumbledore really had the audacity to use Ben, nearly die in the process, then ghost him at the train station like some Tinder date. Zero shame.
Anyway—next chapter, Ben's getting a power-up. Last time he unlocked that nifty inventory space after feeding the Invisibility Cloak to the void. Now he's munching on the Resurrection Stone.
Obviously, "talking to ghosts" is the classic ability—but what other perk should he get? Something spooky? Something overpowered? Something weirdly useful in a magical rabbit farm? Throw your ideas at me.