Dumbledore let out a sigh as he walked up to the classroom that the Equestrians had turned into their base of operations. Assigned Personnel Only, the sign said. Only, he knew it was basically just a symbol, even if the wording was a bit strange. The door wouldn’t open for anyone that wasn’t allowed.
He raised his hand, knocked three times, and entered.
As expected, the strange thaumic machine at the back of the room was oscillating. He couldn’t remember what they had called it, right off- but it wasn’t important.
The moment he closed the door, the machine glowed briefly brighter- and then faded into nonexistence, to be replaced by a large wooden box that had been decorated with paint-by-number-quality unicorn drawings. At the same time, the twenty anchored desks in the room vanished, to be replaced by a large conference table, at which there were many people already seated.
Princess Celestia looked up at him. “Professor Dumbledore,” she greeted. “I’m glad you could join us.”
Dumbledore bowed his head respectfully, as he moved forward, to his assigned seat. “Thank you,” he returned, and scanned the gathered students visually. Just like Princess Celestia, he was merely a member in this room, not a leader- and just like in the Wizengamot, or the International Confederation of Wizards, a quick visual search would often reveal who had information or ideas and who didn’t yet know what was going on.
As usual, there were none of the latter category in here- but he did notice one girl that he hadn’t expected, and his eyes locked onto her questioningly for a second.
Bonbon, seated next to the girl, smiled and spoke. “Yes, she’s joined up, as Law Breaker.”
“Ahh,” he muttered, finishing his glance around.
Bonbon waited for him to finish before she continued. “That said, Law Breaker is fairly new to our science division, and so won’t normally be present for tactical meetings. She’s here today because while you took Mrs. Norris upstairs for examination, she remained behind to examine the scene- and found additional casualties.”
Dumbledore blinked. “... Miss Weasley and Myrtle?”
“Just Ginny,” Bonbon smiled. “Myrtle was resurrected as an accidental side effect of her effort to save Ginny.” She looked at Hermione Granger.
“Ginny was face-down on the bathroom floor,” Hermione spoke. “Madam Pomfrey said a ‘horcrux’ had invaded her soul, been messed with by the Papa Tango, and drained her to the part where she had dropped dead. I apparently arrived just in time to prevent that. She also suggested Ginny could have been in the bathroom because the horcrux seized control of her body.”
Dumbledore heaved a sigh. “It’s exactly like the old plan,” he muttered. “I do not know what form that horcrux takes- I knew only that it was going to make its way into Ginny’s hands in some manner, and start controlling her to open the Chamber of Secrets.”
“You knew about it?” Bonbon asked.
He nodded. “I knew it existed, and would make its way into her possession. However, I do not know what it is- and since my scan last month failed to detect it, I expect that searching her possessions would also fail to detect it.” He took a deep breath. “It will likely only be able to take control of her while she is handling it, whatever it is.”
“Whose horcrux is it?” one of the other Agents asked.
“Voldemort,” he answered promptly. He hadn’t been told much about them, but he had been told that they were the true masters that Twilight had turned to for the student instructor program, among other things. By his understanding, they were the unsung heroes of Equestria- not too much unlike the Order of the Phoenix in Britain.
“And we have no idea what it is?”
Dumbledore shook his head. “When I informed you it wouldn’t happen last month, that was after a school-wide scan failed to find any trace of it. I have rechecked several times since- including before I came tonight- and still found no trace.”
“Though you said Madam Pomfrey said the Horcrux was messed with by my Papa Tango, right?” It was Lyra, looking at Hermione.
Hermione nodded.
“So it’s possible,” Lyra went on, “that the Horcrux’ signature was modified- possibly well beyond recognition. And considering where the Papa Tango was concentrated, it’s also possible it was irrevocably fused with Ginny herself in at least one way.” She looked up at Dumbledore. “Were those scans looking for a particular signature, Horcrux patterns…?”
Dumbledore shook his head. “Horcruxes are undetectable to our magic, except by the presence of the soul fragment,” he informed her. “If used carelessly, such a spell will detect people and other creatures as well, forcing them to be properly filtered out.” He took a deep breath. “If the Horcrux was transferred to her… it may be entirely undetectable. And the only way to destroy a Horcrux…”
He caught Hermione’s raised eyebrow.
“Ahem. The only known way to destroy a Horcrux is to cause irreparable damage to its vessel. For a living vessel, this would mean… death.”
“Hmm,” Lyra muttered. “A Horcrux is a soul fragment bound to an object by a mass of dark magic, right?”
He nodded.
“Then it shouldn’t have fully transferred to her. If it had linked itself to her strong enough to mess up my Papa Tango- which would tend to explain why she didn’t seem to experience it- the soul fragment, and the soul fragment alone, would have been pulled out, upgraded with Equestrian matrices, and fused with Ginny.” She looked at Hermione. “Then you dumped so much power Ginny’s magical core duplicated itself, patching that soul fragment up into a full soul of its own… but still tethered to Ginny. And because it was Ginny’s core that duplicated itself into it, then tethered permanently to her, such that neither can die while the other survives.
“On the other hand, that dark magic spellwork would not have been drawn in- and would only be loosely tethered to her, and still based on that Horcrux object. Which probably still has a mind of its own, but that mind is now just an echo, a memory, instead of an actual soul fragment… enabling it to do some truly terrible things, since echoes don’t have consciences.”
“So Ginny is not the Horcrux, and we don’t need to kill anyone, then?” Hermione asked, looking distinctly worried.
Lyra nodded. “Correct.”
“It sounds to me like our best line of defense is going to be Ginny herself,” Starlight Glimmer spoke. “It… could take a long time to do it that way, though, since she’s unlikely to remember what she was doing before she was… possessed.”
“She has perfect recall,” Hermione announced.
“Convenient,” Shining Armor mused, rubbing his chin. “After a few more attacks, she should be able to notice a pattern, and tell us what the Horcrux is. Until that happens, our best chance of keeping any attacks from turning fatal would probably be a counteroffensive- to destroy the monster in the Chamber of Secrets… or the Chamber itself.” He looked at Dumbledore.
Dumbledore shook his head sadly. “Many a Headmaster has searched Hogwarts for the Chamber of Secrets, including myself,” he informed them. “We were unable to find any evidence of its existence, let alone location. Especially when it was opened fifty years ago.”
“It was opened before?” Bonbon asked.
He nodded. “There were a series of attacks… which ended with the death of Myrtle Warren.”
Hermione and Lyra looked at each other.
“Considering she stuck around as a ghost and has now been resurrected,” Bonbon mused, “she might remember what it looked like- and, possibly, a clue for its location.”
Dumbledore bowed his head gravely. He knew that this entire group, to a person, would lay down their lives to keep the students of Hogwarts safe.
“The thing I worry about with Myrtle,” Lyra mused, “is that she’s probably on a revivification rush.”
Bonbon scowled. “Meaning, she could fall back to her normal sorrow at any moment?”
Lyra nodded. “That’s what I expect- probably sometime tonight, possibly tomorrow, the wonder and novelty of being revived will wear off.”
Morning Sun could sense Myrtle’s fading cheer, and the deep-seated sorrow and worry underneath it. Thus, even when Harry and Hermione left the Hospital Wing, she stayed behind- told even Ginny that she would catch up.
Ginny had long since recovered from her sorrow, and had cheerfully accepted her words and left the room.
“So, you’re… Morning Sun?” Myrtle asked, still unsure of what to do. Professor McGonagall was checking on her sorting status; after so long, they weren’t sure if she was still a Ravenclaw or not.
“Yes, that’s me,” Morning answered her. “Are you doing okay?”
“Am I… doing okay?” she repeated, nonplussed.
Morning nodded. “You… weren’t exactly happy as a ghost, and…” She sighed, then looked at Myrtle in a silent question.
Myrtle blinked at her. “... Oh. Um…” She took a deep breath. “My… My life, before, was nothing but misery- people laughed at me for my glasses, and…” She pushed her oversized glasses up the bridge of her nose again. “Then when I… died, everyone hated me, then made fun of me, and…” She sighed. “I… I don’t see how I can avoid that now.”
Morning smiled gently. “I can help,” she informed her.
Myrtle looked up. “How?”
“The same way I’ve helped Ginny change her hairstyle so many times,” she answered shortly. “Here, take my hands- then concentrate on a wave of green fire… oh, fixing your eyes.”
“Fixing my…? Okay.” Myrtle was full of disbelief, but she accepted Morning’s hands, and closed her eyes. “So…”
Morning could sense when it was successful. She could feel, as she had with Ginny so many times, the foreign power flowing through her facilities, temporarily granting Myrtle her free shapeshifting capability.
The bright flash of green fire also wasn’t exactly subtle.
Myrtle twitched, but otherwise didn’t move. The fire had also taken care of her skin blemishes, and done a few other tweaks to her body. She was still recognizable as Myrtle- but she was, very suddenly, a pretty girl.
Morning released Myrtle’s hands, drawing hers back. “Nice,” she informed her.
Myrtle, disappointed, opened her eyes. “But that…” She trailed off, then pushed her glasses up her nose. Then she took them off, and started rubbing them on her robes- halfway through which she froze… and, very slowly, looked up. “... I can see.”
Morning smiled. “Who said the past had to be repeated, anyways?”