Basilisk venom was just one of the ingredients in the Soul-Marker Potion, a very specific and complicated component to obtain, though not the only one. The potion required five ingredients, with one serving as the base upon which the others were prepared. This base was not normal water; it was site-specific water from the mythical Stygian Lagoon, the source of the famous river of the underworld. Helga had to take advantage of one of her days off to travel to the place and safely obtain a sufficient quantity. She got the obsidian and aconite from an apothecary, though for security reasons, she visited different shops, using various disguises. Obsidian, a volcanic glass produced in the later phases of an eruption, was considered by many to be "the glass of hell." Aconite was a highly toxic plant considered purifying in certain combinations. As for the Thestral hair needed for the potion, she only had to go through the Forbidden Forest and approach one of the creatures in the Hogwarts pack, asking it to allow her to take a single hair from its mane.
Once she had everything, Helga arranged the Room of Requirement as a potions laboratory. The right environment was essential for any brewing, and she wanted to perform this particular potion perfectly. If anything went wrong, they would lose a great opportunity—the chance to find their way without being blind. She carefully arranged the ingredients on a table. Then, she began to read the recipe, which Salazar had transcribed for her, as many times as necessary to ensure she knew it by heart and could perform each step perfectly. Once she felt completely confident, she began to make the potion.
Helga took a medium-sized copper cauldron—what was now called a "size 3"—and filled it three-quarters full with the water from the Styx. She then placed it over a low flame, allowing it to heat up slowly. While the water gradually warmed, she took a mortar and pestle. Inside, she placed the obsidian fragment and the finely chopped aconite, then ground them into a very fine powder, forcing the two ingredients to mix homogeneously. As soon as she had a perfect mixture, she took a second mortar, deposited the Thestral hair inside, and carefully set it alight. It was a delicate step, as she had to incinerate it without damaging its properties.
"Perfect," she murmured to herself with a sigh of relief.
She then poured the contents of both mortars into the hot water, making sure not to leave a single particle behind. She stirred the contents of the cauldron and let it simmer for an hour over a low heat, stirring it every ten minutes to ensure all the ingredients were properly integrated. After the hour, she carefully removed the cauldron from the fire, leaving it aside to cool to room temperature. As it cooled, she continued to stir it, alternating between clockwise and anti-clockwise rotations every seven minutes. As soon as the potion was cold, she carefully added the basilisk venom to the mixture. After that, she covered the cauldron. The final concoction would have to rest until it was time to be used later that night, during the hour of the wolf. She remained there for the rest of the afternoon, not wanting to leave and risk losing the potion. It was too important. She would deal with Kingsley later if her teammate missed her.
---
Salazar looked up sharply as he heard Ron and Hermione screaming at each other. Lately, he had distanced himself a little from them, and the fact was that since the beginning of the term, their arguments had increased to the point of being completely absurd.
"You can't believe that, Ron! How can you believe that fraud?!" Hermione shouted.
"Scabbers is in real danger! Your stupid cat keeps bothering her!" Ron yelled back.
"Ron, don't be ridiculous!"
"You're the one who's ridiculous! What's really bothering you is that you're not top of the class!"
"Divination isn't worth much. It doesn't add anything interesting. It's a waste of time, and those predictions are nothing but nonsense."
Salazar frowned and turned to Godric, who had sat down beside him with a sorrowful expression. He looked overwhelmed, as if he simply did not want to be caught in the crossfire of the two quarrelling students. Looking at the rest of the class, which they shared with the Ravenclaw students, they were the only two who were seated. The rest of the class was staring at Ron and Hermione. They took advantage of the uproar to begin a hushed conversation.
"What's all this about?" Salazar whispered. "I thought I heard that depressing Seer was involved."
"Trelawney said in class that a sick pet would come to an abrupt end," Godric replied. "Lavender immediately started crying because she thought Trelawney was talking about one of her rabbits that was born prematurely. Apparently, the Browns are dedicated to breeding rabbits, and she had grown fond of the little one from the last litter."
"I see. But I never thought Ron would defend Lavender."
"He hasn't. Instead, he made a mess of it by saying there's a plot to kill his pet."
"Well, if it weren't for the fact that we need her alive," Salazar said in a sinister tone. "But don't worry, it's better for me that she lives."
"Your way of thinking can be worrying sometimes," Godric sighed. "In any case, it's a person disguised as a pet."
"I don't think it's a true prediction. In any case, no prediction should ever be taken literally."
"A metaphor?" Godric asked skeptically. Neither of them disdained seers or the discipline of Divination; after all, Rowena had been a Seer. On the other hand, their current teacher was a real circus act. "I'm surprised that after dropping her class, you're willing to give her any credit."
"I never rule anything out. And as for a certain pet that is not a pet, it may be the pet of a certain wizard."
Godric had no time to answer, for the classroom door slammed open. Professor Snape entered the room, again substituting for Professor Lupin, who was ill once more. His mere presence served to silence the entire class, who froze in place.
"Weasley, Granger," he said in his typical cold voice. "Ten points from Gryffindor for each of you, and you're both in detention. When I want you to put on a show, I'll let you know in advance." The professor's gaze swept across the classroom. "Brown, Patil, Thomas, and Finnegan. Five points from Gryffindor for each of you for not being where you should be. Patil, Turpin, Goldstein, Cornfoot, Corner, and Boot. Five points from each of you for the same reason." He advanced to the middle of the classroom. "Sit down, before you put your houses in the red."
Salazar and Godric stood still and quiet, staring straight ahead with their classroom materials laid out on the table. They could feel the gaze of that awful teacher, a professor more concerned with terrorizing students and personally attacking others. From the beginning of the school year, Salazar had been quite restrained, and Godric had, too, but both of them planned to drive him out of the castle as soon as they could. Snape, though a genius in his subject, was not a suitable teacher.
"Potter and Longbottom," Snape said. "The only ones who have behaved as expected of Hogwarts students today, rather than giving the impression of being in a marketplace. Don't expect points for doing what you are meant to do."
"No, sir," they replied in unison, with complete calm. They could see in the professor's expression a slight annoyance at not having been able to provoke them.
"We'll pick up where we left off in the last lesson. Werewolves." He held up a finger. "I have only received work from the Ravenclaws and three from Gryffindor. All of them are quite deficient, although, unfortunately, good enough that I cannot fail them."
"But Professor Snape, Lupin said we wouldn't be looking at that until later," Ron protested.
"Mr. Weasley, I am not Lupin," Snape's voice was tinged with a certain contempt as he uttered those words. "Am I going to have to take more points from Gryffindor because of you?"
"You're a tyrant! Go bugger off and leave us all alone!" Ron yelled, his voice cracking.
"Fifty points from Gryffindor, Mr. Weasley, and double detention for you, too. I will write to his parents because of your impertinent attitude." It was more than clear that behind those words, the professor was not angry or upset, but rather delighted. "Now, let's continue with the lesson."
Salazar and Godric exchanged a fleeting glance. It was clear that they both intended to talk to Ron later. As soon as the class was over and tempers had calmed down a little. Neither of them would have allowed a student to act in that way in the past; on the other hand, both remembered the Howler from the previous year, so they couldn't forget it. The intervention would have to be that same night, before sneaking away to the multipurpose room and performing the ritual. Salazar knew that the next day, Ron would receive a Howler and would be unbearable all day.
Hours later, in the Gryffindor common room, Salazar and Godric approached Ron and sat down at the table where he was making up his predictions on the tea leaves. They sat on either side of the boy. For a few seconds, they both remained silent until Ron looked at them with surprise and curiosity.
"Harry and I need to talk to you. It's important," Godric said firmly.
"What do you want? I'm not in the mood."
"We know, but unfortunately, this can't wait until tomorrow," Salazar replied softly. "It's about the Defence Against the Dark Arts class."
"Don't tell me. You're going to take Snape's side," Ron said with an annoyed tone. "You're both very weird this year, especially you, Harry."
"We're not taking Snape's side," Godric objected.
"Yes, you are," Ron replied with annoyance. "Well, your faces don't look supportive."
"Snape is a wretch who will get his comeuppance at the right time," Salazar said in a threatening whisper. "But today, you gave him exactly what he wanted. He saw a weak spot in you, and you acted just as he wanted you to." Salazar continued calmly. "Ron, you were the one who told me in the first place that I shouldn't fall for his provocations."
"Yes, but..."
"He manipulated you," said Godric, who knew how to detect manipulation with relative ease, most of the time.
"My mum is going to be very upset. I'm sure it'll be worse than the car thing. She always says that I must be respectful to everyone," he complained, sounding both scared and sorrowful.
"Don't go down to breakfast tomorrow," Godric suggested. "If I knew how to stop the Howlers from coming, I would, but I still don't know how." He exchanged a glance with Salazar; in fact, there was a way to control the mail, but it would reveal their presence and their power prematurely. "I'll find out, though."
"Why?" Ron asked.
"My grandmother usually sends them to me every time I don't live up to my last name, according to her."
"The fact is that Neville's idea is the best way to save you the humiliation in front of the whole school," Salazar said thoughtfully. "Tomorrow is Saturday, so there won't be any major problems. As for your mum... I might send her a letter with an objective version of what happened and explain how humiliating it is when the whole school hears you being scolded. That can completely destroy a child's self-esteem."
"I don't know if..."
"You'll listen to me," Salazar insisted. "I haven't done anything yet to make her angry with me, and I'm sure she believes, or rather knows, that last year's car was your idea."
"Thanks, guys." Ron gave them a faint smile. It was clear that he was more animated now.
---
A few minutes before midnight, everything was ready in the Room of Requirement. Godric had placed the maps they were going to use within the ritual's perimeter. Salazar had drawn a perfectly balanced circle with salt, surrounding a smaller circle containing a rune that symbolized the transcendence of the soul. Three white candles surrounded this salt symbol, placed so that they did not converge with any of the candles in the outer salt circle. The candles in the large circle were of four colours, one for each element. Red, yellow, green, and blue represented the four elements and the four cardinal points. Ignis, fire, represented by the red candle, was located to the west. Terra, the earth, represented by the yellow candle, was located to the east. Aeris, the air, represented by the blue candle, was located to the south. And Aqua, water, represented by the green candle, was located to the north. There were seven candles in total, the perfect and most magical number.
Once all the candles were placed, they were lit one after the other, starting with the outer circle, moving clockwise from the red candle to the green one. The last ones to be lit were those in the centre. As soon as all were lit, Helga brought the cauldron with the potion to the centre of the circle, placing it on the salt symbol. Everything was ready; only the main element, the diadem, was missing. The three of them would handle that together. They stood in front of the circle, with the maps arranged in a semicircle before them. They levitated the diadem and moved it until it was poised directly over the cauldron's contents. They held it there until they heard the midnight bells, which signified the most appropriate time for the ritual.
"Animus purificae marcus in movus," the trio recited in unison as they dipped the diadem into the potion. They repeated the words a total of three times. After the final incantation, there was an explosion in which the diadem was incinerated. However, the remains of the potion, upon interacting with it, rose up and pointed to different places on the maps. They would see the results soon; they just had to let the ritual settle.
"Can we clean up while it's being defined?" Helga asked, looking pointedly at Salazar.
"No problem."
"Let's put on our gloves to protect ourselves," Godric suggested. "The poison in the potion may still be active."
"You, being a visionary... who would have thought it?" Salazar joked.
"This will take us a while," Helga said.
---
The elongated, dark room was partially submerged in the lake, or at least that was the sensation it produced. A large window showed the interior of the water, allowing those who lived there to see the creatures of the fresh water. The only light in the place, a soothing greenish glow, came from the lamps hanging from the ceiling. These lamps were always on and never ran out, giving the room a tone of comfortable mystery, appropriate for the kind of conversations that took place there.
In one corner, sitting neither too close to the fire nor too far away, three thirteen-year-old boys acted as if they were doing nothing important—but were most certainly doing just that. Draco Malfoy, a blonde, sat relaxed, looking up at the ceiling. Theodore Nott, with dark hair, had a book in his hands. And Blaise Zabini, a dark-skinned boy, was finishing an essay. They were all neat, but each had his own style. Draco was perfect from head to toe, with no element of his uniform out of place. Nott's tie was slightly loose, almost imperceptibly so. Blaise, meanwhile, had no tie at all and the first button of his shirt was undone.
"Hagrid won't be kicked out," Nott said. "But at least the Board of Governors now has their eye on him."
"I'm not satisfied," Draco replied. "Father wanted not only to fire that beast of a teacher, but to question Dumbledore as well. Hogwarts needs a better Headmaster."
"Even the Hippogriff has escaped," Zabini added. "Potter hasn't sued and, well, no one has filed a complaint on his behalf, either. Is there anything else you're going to try?"
"If there was, I wouldn't tell you, Zabini. Now I owe Potter one, and I'd rather be careful to see what he asks of me." Draco's words revealed his discomfort, a fact his two friends would not disclose to anyone. It was not a weakness in itself.
"If Potter hadn't intervened, you would have been hurt—or killed," Nott said.
"I know, Nott," Draco slurred the syllables in annoyance. "Potter was right."
"What?" Zabini asked.
"What do you mean?" Nott pressed. "I can't imagine you would have a civil conversation with Potter. There hasn't been any notable exchange of words between you two."
"It was on the train," Draco said in a whisper. "He warned me that my father wouldn't hesitate to put me in danger to achieve his goals."
"And what about it?" Zabini asked, as Nott frowned.
"No idea," Draco lied. It was a half-truth. He had denied it to Potter, but his father had been involved in opening the Chamber of Secrets, and he himself had been in significant danger. He hadn't seen it at the time, but after what his father asked of him when he'd heard from his friends on the school board, he had no doubt. "However, if the beast had gone any further—" His own line of reasoning was terrifying him.
"Your father would not only have the Headmaster's head, but also Hagrid's and the Hippogriff's," Nott summarised.
"And your mother would become a banshee," Zabini added.
"I don't think I want to be my father's pawn. Or anyone's."
"If you're going to rebel against your father, you'll need the support of someone powerful," Zabini reasoned.
"Is becoming a pet of the Headmaster a better option than being a pawn of his father and a soldier of the Dark Lord when he returns?" Nott inquired skeptically. "I don't think that's in your best interest, Draco. Not when there may be a third chip at play—a chip that is subtly moving away from what certain sectors expect of it."
"I've noticed. It's one of the options I'm considering."
"I'm clear on it," Nott said.
"I don't know who or what you're talking about anymore." Zabini got up, bored. "I'm going to find someone to bother."
---
After several more minutes of waiting, and once all evidence of the ritual had been cleaned away, the three of them stood looking at the maps. They had cleaned the mess by hand with protective gloves, not wanting to force the room to use its own magic to vanish the evidence. On the map of the United Kingdom, three new marks had appeared. On the map of Europe, there was only one mark, no larger than the others, but more intense.
"Albania," Salazar whispered. "Dumbledore said last year that his sources believed Voldemort was there."
"If it's known that he's there, why hasn't he been banished?" Godric asked. "If one of his followers finds him, it could be dangerous."
"Especially since I doubt someone like him would share the secret of his immortality," Salazar said.
"Let's not worry about that now," Helga said, pulling their attention back. "Let's focus on the fragments that are within our reach and how to get to them. The map is large."
"Not large enough to see the exact locations," Godric objected.
"It can be done," Helga replied. "I can examine a particular point more closely."
"We have two Horcruxes in London and a third in the north of England, near a place called Little Hangleton," Salazar summarised.
"The London ones are in Diagon Alley and a Muggle neighbourhood," Helga said after fiddling with the map for a moment. "That doesn't add up to me."
"I shouldn't be surprised if many wizards hid among Muggles," Salazar reasoned. "Muggle society has grown so much that it's nearly impossible for them to live without hiding from each other."
"I'll investigate those places. You can't leave, but I can."
"Alright, but don't try to destroy any alone. They will try to defend themselves."
"I know, Salazar. You worry too much."
"He worries because it's you," Godric commented, giggling.
"I destroyed one without knowing what it was," Salazar said. "Last year, in the Chamber. The fragment that was in that diary tried to kill me."