Chapter 237: Preparations Before Entering the Chamber of secrets
Phineas nodded solemnly.
"If it was just a theory before, I can now confirm it—Harry is also a Horcrux, and the proportion of soul in him is significant."
Dumbledore sighed heavily.
"That is truly the worst-case scenario. What do you think we should do, Phineas?"
Phineas shrugged.
"Do we have any other choice? But let's make Harry the last one."
Dumbledore gave a slow nod.
"Yes. We have no choice."
They had both suspected it for some time, and now it was confirmed—Harry carried a piece of Voldemort's soul. But even knowing it in advance did little to soften the blow. Neither Dumbledore nor Phineas wanted this to be true.
The Dark Lord had to be destroyed. Unlike Grindelwald, who, for all his madness, held some conviction and limits, Voldemort had none. He was a creature of pure destruction, a force of madness that would unravel the world if allowed to live.
Dumbledore's mission had always been to preserve balance in the wizarding world. He was called the greatest white wizard not merely because of his power, but because few had his unwavering commitment to that balance.
Phineas's motivation was simpler—he wanted to ascend, to become something more than a wizard. The road to godhood was already fraught with dangers. Leaving a madman like Voldemort loose only increased the chance of unexpected disasters.
To destroy Voldemort, all of his Horcruxes had to be destroyed. And Harry was one of them. That part of the ending was already set.
Phineas, having knowledge of the original story, had long known the truth. He had examined Harry's scar countless times, hoping to find a method other than the one used in the original work—one that could extract the soul fragment without killing Harry.
Unfortunately, his understanding of soul magic was limited. He might be close to the level of a great wizard, but soul magic belonged to the domain of legendary wizards. Memory magic was already obscure—soul magic was practically forbidden knowledge.
So, in the end, Phineas found no alternative. No way to separate Harry from the Horcrux. And if he couldn't find a new path, then his best option was to let the original events unfold as they did before.
That way, he could at least anticipate what was to come and prepare safeguards for Harry—silent help to ensure the boy survived.
The following days were surprisingly quiet. Harry and his friends didn't stir trouble, and the Slytherin students didn't test him on behalf of their families, contrary to Phineas's concerns. No one dared offend the Black family.
That calmness unnerved Phineas more than chaos.
It felt like his only task now was to sit exams like a normal student. Hogwarts exams were a nightmare for most young wizards, but for someone like Phineas, who was always top of his class, they were trivial. He reviewed the memory-based subjects like History of Magic and breezed through the rest.
Harry, by contrast, was having a hard time. He didn't know how he got through the exams. Worry haunted him day and night—he feared Voldemort would break into the castle at any moment. He was exhausted and sleep-deprived.
But nothing happened. Fluffy, the three-headed dog guarding the trapdoor on the fourth floor, remained undisturbed. The corridor was quiet. No signs of intrusion.
The weather was hot and humid. The classrooms were stuffy, packed with anxious students. The enchanted exam quills, imbued with anti-cheating charms, made any tricks impossible.
After the written exams came the practicals. For Phineas, these were a formality. One by one, students entered the classroom and performed spells or brewed potions under the professors' supervision.
Nerves caused many to make mistakes—but not Phineas. His performance was steady, unremarkable, and flawless.
Harry's exam experience was more lively—Professor Flitwick asked him to make a pineapple dance, Professor McGonagall required transfiguring a mouse into a snuffbox, and Professor Snape had him brew a Forgetfulness Potion. They were oddly fun.
Still, Harry was plagued by headaches. Since the encounter in the Forbidden Forest, his scar ached intermittently. He couldn't sleep, plagued by nightmares—not from exam stress, but from fear of Voldemort.
Phineas had once told him, "You can respect power, but do not fear it. Be cautious, yes—but never afraid. Fear makes you weak. It robs you of resolve."
Eventually, the exams ended. Phineas wasn't concerned with the results—it had been too easy. His answers had come automatically, without needing conscious thought.
Outside the castle, he spotted Harry, Ron, Neville, and Hermione lounging under the shade of a tree by the Black Lake. The giant squid—a transformed Gryffindor—sunned itself in the warm shallows.
Fred and George had taken to visiting the lake often, feeding and playing with the squid's tentacles, never revealing its true identity.
Suddenly, Harry stood and said something to the others before dashing off toward Hagrid's hut.
Phineas smiled knowingly.
"So, he's finally pieced together the truth about the dragon egg."
He turned toward the twins.
In his plan, Harry and the others would go down the trapdoor that night to challenge Quirrell and protect the Philosopher's Stone. Dumbledore would "leave" the school, creating the perfect opportunity for Voldemort to strike—and for Phineas to move.
Tonight was also his chance to enter the one place in Hogwarts he had not yet explored: the Chamber of Secrets.
To do so safely, he would need a moment when Dumbledore was gone but close enough to return quickly—so no students would be endangered by the basilisk for too long.
"Phineas! Come play with the giant squid!" George waved.
Phineas sat down beside them.
"Something interesting is going to happen tonight. But I have something else I need your help with first."
The twins exchanged glances.
"What do you need?" they asked in unison.
Phineas grinned.
"I need you to help me 'borrow' the roosters Hagrid's raising. The more, the better. Divide them—bring half to me, and hide the others in the castle where I'll tell you. Bring Lee Jordan. Just you two won't be enough."
George nodded, sensing the gravity of the task.
Phineas continued,
"I need you three to guard the entrance to the girls' bathroom—the one on the second floor. Listen for any sound, and if you hear anything, make the roosters crow immediately. Each of you take a floor."
He paused, then added,
"And now for the 'interesting' part. Do you remember what Dumbledore said at the start of term?"
"He said a lot of things. No going into the Forbidden Forest? No breaking rules?" Fred guessed.
Phineas rolled his eyes.
"I'm talking about the warning about the corridor on the third floor."
The twins' eyes widened as they remembered.
"We actually forgot all about that!"
Back at the start of term, Dumbledore had warned that anyone stepping into the forbidden corridor would meet a painful end. At the time, the twins had wanted to explore it—but had gotten distracted by Quidditch, holidays, and general mischief.
Phineas leaned in.
"That room was a trap set by Dumbledore—for someone specific. And tonight, Harry's going there. It's also his first real trial."
"That's brilliant!" Fred exclaimed. "We're going too!"
But George was quicker.
"Wait a minute… you told us this on purpose. You knew we'd want to go. But now we have to stay and guard a bathroom all night, don't we?"
Phineas laughed.
"Not all night. Once Harry's trial is done, I'll return. Then we'll go check the corridor together. I'm curious about the professors' enchantments too."
The twins departed to "liberate" Hagrid's chickens, and Phineas turned to his preparations for the Chamber of Secrets.
To face a basilisk, he couldn't go in unprepared. Rooster crowing was one defense. Another was the enchanted pair of goggles Tony had made—meant to diffuse direct eye contact. They might not work, but they were worth trying.
His last safeguard was Puff. If Phineas were petrified, Puff would transport his body to the ancestral Black estate, where he'd stashed a potion that could reverse the petrification.
When everything was ready, Phineas watched Harry and his friends seek out Professor McGonagall, then head to the third floor. With Dumbledore absent, he slipped away to Moaning Myrtle's bathroom.
Inside, the ghost sat sobbing atop a toilet tank.
"Oh look," Myrtle sniffled. "Another one. Going to throw something at me? Five points if you hit my head. Three if it's the body. None if you miss!"
Phineas sighed.
He still felt sorry for Myrtle—so young, so gifted, a Muggle-born Ravenclaw who was bullied by a pure-blood girl and found solace only in this bathroom.
And then, one day, Tom Riddle discovered the legend of the Chamber of Secrets. He opened it. And the basilisk inside ended Myrtle's life before she even had time to scream.
Tonight, Phineas would return to that Chamber—not to release a monster, but to face it.