I have seen your heart (And It's Mine) | Tomarry

♡ The Ring (Dumbledore's office, 6th yr)

Dumbledore's hand was withering away like it had caught on some kind of strange disease whose name Harry didn't know. It was all black, rotten and useless, too weak for the headmaster to even move.

That ring is behind the illness. That's most definitely the case. (Though Dumbledore had yet to say anything more clairvoyant about it besides the classic 'this is an object of a very Dark nature that is associated with Voldemort and it must be kept a secret' since the beginning of the year.)

The first week of January has already come and gone at this point.

As Harry's curiosity grew, so did the overwhelming desire to satisfy it. That meant one thing; He had to break into Dumbledore's office and search for the ring - for that was the last place he had seen the older wizard placing it - inside the fifth drawer of a big wooden cupboard with all sorts of healing potions and remedies, to be more accurate.

He chooses a fine Friday afternoon to execute his plan - well, more like half formed idea, really. He knows that Dumbledore has arranged the weekly meeting with all the Heads of the four Houses to take place at one of Professor McGonagall's rooms at about five thirty. He slips inside the headmaster's office at that moment, muttering 'Acid Pops' that as it happens is the correct password.

He closes the door upon stepping in. He walks towards the cupboard. His eyes spot the fifth shelf. He mutters 'Reserare', a stronger variation of Alohomora that Hermione had been teaching him the previous weeks. Thankfully with that the shelf is opened.

He peaks inside and sees all sorts of documents with tiny messy letters with black ink he cannot read. Among them, the ring is laying as innocent and beautiful as the first time that Harry had seen it.

He levitates it with his wand inside one of the pockets of his robes. He locks the shelf back into place and races to the door, makes it open before hastily getting out and then locking it back. After that is done he makes three disillusionment and mislocation charms to keep Dumbledore off until he decides what to do with it.

He draws a breath in. 'Okay. First part, complete.' Now he needs a place to think.

A black door made of iron is starting to be formed in an instant on the wall he's been facing.

'Wait a second, wasn't the Room of Requirement destroyed by Umbridge last year? Why is it still...? Oh, fuck it. Malfoy has been using it for four months just fine. I'm just grateful it exists at this point.'

When the magical formation of the door is complete, he allows himself to calm down somewhat and take a few steps forward. The Room welcomes its old DADA leader with pride - for the old freezing training hall Harry and his fellow classmates used to practice in gets much warmer. The shade on the walls, instead of cold blue, starts to change into a flaming orange. Torches are lit, black chandeliers appear, along with lots of chairs - about seven - and two sofas.

Strange. He is by himself. Why would the Room produce more than two chairs at most?

That's when he recalls the ring in his pocket. He slips his left hand inside the little opening sewn on the black robe and takes it out, holding it by its golden shank with his thumb and index finger. It looks truly majestic with the triangular black stone on its center. Was it really the reason for Dumbledore's rotten limb? Such a pity.

"Well? Aren't you going to wear it?"

Harry snaps his head around only to have a shock by seeing none other than Riddle standing idly against the colorful sofa made of velvet and wood with his arms crossed and a slight grin on his lips. The Gryffindor scrutinizes the young man closely. He appears to be about twenty six, visibly older than his diary version, his handsome features standing out even more.