Possessiveness and Other Such Oddities

Diatribe

a/n: Hi everyone!! I hope you're doing well!! I am back with another chapter, and this one is pretty heavy on the world/ritual building, so these are all my headcanons, stuff I picked up from other fics/tumblr, and ancient alphabets! Slight T/W for self-harm (scratching and ritual based blood-letting). More info on the ritual is at the end!

Also, this chapter was hardddd to not make into tomarry T-T so I just based it on seeing my best friend after a very long time (I've never been far away from my brother for very long). I hope it doesn't come off as too shippy.

Without further ado, onto the chapter!

After dragging himself through his morning routine and picking at his scrambled eggs, Harry tried desperately to get away from his friends. They knew his preferred way of being dealt with when in a bad mood was constant presence and companionship, so it was getting quite annoying trying to get space away from Hermione and Cho -- they just wouldn't let him be. He'd be grateful if it were any other time (especially since when he was younger and in a bad headspace, he would scratch, scratch, scratch till he bled).

Eventually, he told them straight up it wasn't anything personal, he just needed to be alone, and they hesitantly agreed and let him be. Harry went up to his room as quickly as possible, grabbed the diary and his invisibility cloak, and went to the Wishing Room. Pacing back and forth, he wished very, very hard for a room of lost things, and soon enough, a door appeared. Objects of all shapes, sizes, and colors were piled up to the ceiling, precariously balanced and one misstep away from an avalanche. Harry took a deep breath and called out, " Designandum me, invenient me: vultus pro me Ravenclaw's Diadem."

The spell he used was an ancient one, known to Ravenclaws exclusively, and could be used to find Rowena Ravenclaw's relics within a certain distance (though nobody knew precisely what distance it was). Harry let out an elated yelp when he felt a tug towards further in the room, and he all but sprinted to the diadem. Then he laid his eyes on the half-crown, and oh Merlin, it felt good to see that -- not because he needed it as a Horcrux, but as a Ravenclaw. He first cast detection charm after detection charm and carefully tugged away from the strands of evilness intertwined with the blue blue blue magic of the diadem. It took almost an hour of intense concentration, but oh, Mother Magic, Merlin, and Morgana had he done it! There was still the Horcrux, but there were no curses whatsoever.

Harry gleefully picked it up with reverence, tucked it carefully into his satchel bag, put on his cloak, and headed to the Chamber of Secrets. He had a quick conversation with Myrtle and paid his respects to Aquitaine the basilisk, but otherwise, he made his way down to the ritual room quickly.

Standing in the open room filled Harry with a sense of wonder, but he had no time to spare, so he quickly opened up his satchel and took out white chalk. On the stone floor, he drew a heptagon, straight lines crisscrossing all the way through, continually referencing the diagram and instructions Tom had written in the diary. After setting up the general shape, he summoned the basalt, letting his magic permeate the air. Harry took the basalt and meticulously sprinkled it over the pre-drawn lines. He dared not breathe as he evenly distributed it all and only did so when he had completely finished, taking a steep breath and inhaling harshly.

The next step was far easier: setting up the white candles. Harry cast extremely overpowered sticking charms, so the magic spilled over, tacky and gummy like glue paste, and set the candles at the vertices.

Harry retrieved a sharp iron blade from a hidden pocket in his satchel and grabbed the glass bowl he had stashed in there as well. Chanting, " Sacrificium pro te mihi," he slit his palms and squeezed so that the blood dripped into the bowl in a steady stream. Harry winced at the burn and then the aggravation of his wound, but he ground his molars and continued till he had filled the bowl half-way. After, he let his magic wash over the wounds, mending, stitching, cleaning, and seeping into the air. It was imperative to imbue magic into the ritual room as it hadn't been used since he discovered it in the middle of his fifth year, and as everyone knows, rituals harness latent magic.