"Vernon, come with me," ordered Harry.
The man still did not give up. Harry had to give him credit for that. "Oh no, boy! You will let us go and I'm not going to follow your orders."
Harry rolled his eyes. Vernon would get what's coming to him soon enough. Pointing his wand at the man, making Vernon flinch in terror, Harry simply chanted, " Imperio! "
The two of them left the dungeons quietly, not listening to Petunia's cries or Marge's moans of pain. Harry and Vernon walked to the edge of the property from where Harry took his uncle's arm and Disapparated.
When Harry opened his eyes, he could immediately smell the sea water. His informal robe slung over his shoulders was fluttering about him due to the wind and Vernon had a blank expression on his face. Harry frowned. The cave was warded against people approaching through any magical means, so they had to swim. He looked at Vernon.
"You are to swim to that cliff over there," said Harry commandingly. "Don't drown."
With that, Harry dived into the sea, trying not to think how deep the water was. Doing his best to avoid the waves, he slowly emerged at the entrance of the cave, the warming and drying charms on his clothes working overtime.
Harry began running his fingers over the cave wall, looking for the place. After about a minute, he found it. Pressing his hand over a rock, a pedestal appeared. Making Vernon come forward, he poured a few drops of his uncle's blood on the pedestal. It glowed and the entrance materialised.
"Don't touch the water," he ordered as they walked inside. It was dark and eerie and Harry knew exactly what was inside the lake. Carefully waving his hand over thin air, he remembered what Voldemort had done to raise the boat. He tapped his wand on his other hand, and the thick chains appeared, bringing the boat along with it.
"Sit down and ensure you don't touch the water," said Harry, taking control of Vernon's actions through the curse. Once they were on the small island where the pedestal which contained the Horcrux was located, Harry conjured a small crystal glass and made Vernon drink the potion. Voldemort was a genius. The potion he had kept here would recreate the worst fears of a person and ensure that they are mentally paralysed after drinking a few gulps of the potion. If they did manage to finish it, they would turn to the lake to drink water because of the thirst caused by the potion. That's when the Inferi would rise out of the lake, dragging the person with them under. There was no chance for a single person to ever escape with the Horcrux.
Harry removed the locket from the basin, dropped a fake one in its place and frowned when the locket did not look like the one in his memories.
It was a fake. This wasn't the Horcrux.
He closed his eyes in frustration and fear when he realised that someone else had stolen the real locket. Where the hell could the Horcrux be? It could be anywhere! Just as he turned, Harry screamed in fear when he came face to face with an Inferi. The potion had lifted the Imperius curse he had placed on Vernon. The Muggle had crawled to the lake to drink water, raising the Inferi. Harry had been distracted to see it. Flicking his wand to his hand, he rotated it in a wide arc above his head as fire erupted from the tip. A ring of fire surrounded the hundreds of Inferi, making them go back underwater. Harry's heart was thumping a mile a minute as he realised that Vernon had already been taken underwater. Stepping into the small boat, Harry crossed the lake and made his way out. With a silent pop, his Disapparated.
...
Dylan Lestrange was in a good mood. He had just come back from Greengrass Manor where he had spent the day with Astoria and some of their friends from school. He never thought he would see the day when he actually had friends! Sure, it had been bad in the first month at Hogwarts, but with Harry's help, people began warming up to him. He was not liked by everyone, but that hardly mattered. He had a few friends and he was content with that. He also had Astoria, his best friend. What more could he ask for?
Stepping out of the fireplace at Potter Castle, he briskly made his way to Harry's study. The two of them alternated between staying here at the castle or at Black Manor.
"Harry?" Dylan frowned when he entered the large study. The boy in question was sitting in an armchair in front of the roaring fireplace. His frown deepened when he saw that Harry looked grim.
"Harry, are you okay?" he asked again, taking a seat on the arm of the chair. "What's wrong?"
Harry looked up and saw the concerned face of the boy he had come to regard as his own brother. He simply stared at Dylan. Both Harry and Dylan had grown up in similar environments. Both of them had been physically and psychologically abused by Muggles. Harry, at least, had the opportunity to escape at the age of seven, but not Dylan. Harry always had the comfort to know that his parents had cared for him when they were alive. Dylan's parents had not been married; his mother had been raped by his father who was a notorious and sadistic Death Eater. Their childhood was quite similar, and yet they turned out so different. Why?
"How do you do it, Dylan?"
....
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