Chapter 589: Hufflepuff's Cup
Sean had no memory of how the twilight had faded into night.
The image of a six-armed Hermione blurred before his eyes, her form swaying
rhythmically until his head finally hit the desk and he drifted into a deep
sleep. His desk, ever-obedient, sensed his fatigue and quietly softened its
wooden surface into a plush cushion while a miniature hearth ignited beneath the
legs to keep him warm.
"Sean's furniture is becoming just as magical as he is," Hermione noted,
watching the desk warp. She stood with her arms crossed, her eyes lingering on
the sleeping boy.
Justin, who still looked a bit pale from the day's excitement, let out a weary
chuckle.
The fireplace crackled softly. Outside, the winter wind whipped through the bare
branches of the trees, creating a sharp, whistling chorus. Justin and Hermione
stared into the flames, lost in their own thoughts, until the last traces of the
sunset vanished.
"He does this every time," Hermione said, her voice sharp with a hint of
suppressed fury. "He never says a word. He won't even give us the chance to help
him."
"It's because it's dangerous, Hermione," Justin said, settling into a wool-lined
sofa. A platter of warm meat pies and Honeydukes sweets sat on the table before
him.
"We've faced danger before. Together." Hermione fixed Justin with a piercing,
amber-eyed stare.
Justin's smile faltered, dropping into a look of pained agreement.
"Regardless of what he thinks, I'm going to make him realize that he isn't the
only one who can be useful," Hermione declared. She grabbed her books and sat
down at the edge of Sean's desk. Her words were defiant, but she spoke in a
hushed whisper so as not to wake him.
Justin nodded solemnly.
"We've done plenty against You-Know-Who already. If he truly rises again, do you
think he'll let us be? You or me? He's a blood-supremacist. He's spent his life
persecuting Muggle-borns like us."
Hermione's voice gained a frantic, analytical edge. "You were right, Justin. We
have to keep fighting, keep weakening him so he can't return. But he has
returned. Sean and Dumbledore... they couldn't stop it."
Justin flicked his wand, and a small stool trotted across the floor so he could
sit closer to them. He looked at Hermione, the firelight dancing in her eyes.
"If Slughorn wasn't lying, there are two Horcruxes left," Hermione whispered,
biting her thumb. "Think about it. What could they be?"
"I suspect one of them is Hufflepuff's Cup," Justin said, his voice barely
audible.
"What?" Hermione's head snapped up.
"It's just a theory," Justin said with a small smile.
"Hufflepuff's Cup... blimey, how did I miss that? It fits the pattern."
Hermione's mind began to race, connecting the dots. "How did you arrive at
that?"
"Well... remember the young Voldemort we encountered in the Chamber?" Justin
mused. "He boasted about being the Heir of Slytherin. He used the Basilisk and
the Diary to prove his bloodline and purge the school. If we count the objects
we know were destroyed—Slytherin's Diary and Ravenclaw's Diadem—the pattern is
clear. Voldemort loathes his 'lowly' common origins. He is desperate for symbols
of prestige to validate his existence."
Hermione stared at him, entranced by the logic.
"I suspect Voldemort is obsessed with the four Founders," Justin continued.
"They were the most powerful and noble wizards in history. He wants to be what
they were. If he took the Diadem and the Diary, he'd want the relics of the
other two."
"So you think..."
"I think he would hunt for the Cup just as he hunted for the others. I've been
looking for references to Hufflepuff's artifacts, but the trail is cold," Justin
said with a sigh of regret.
"So—!" Hermione raised her voice.
Justin looked at her expectantly. "So what?"
"So you were doing research behind my back too!" Hermione accused, her face
puffing out in an indignant pout.
Justin froze. "I... er..."
"I'm joking," Hermione said, her expression softening. "Of course I've been
investigating it."
"Oh. Thank Merlin," Justin exhaled.
"Riddle... Tom Riddle... I've been tracing the name for months. Finally, I found
something in an old archive."
Hermione pulled out a tattered, yellowed newspaper and smoothed it across the
desk. It was covered in age-spots and brittle at the edges.
[STATUTE OF SECRECY BREACHED: MORFIN GAUNT ARRESTED! PREVIOUSLY CONVICTED ON
SEPTEMBER 14TH FOR THE UNLAWFUL USE OF MAGIC IN THE PRESENCE OF A MUGGLE... WE
URGE ALL LAW-ABIDING WIZARDS TO AVOID THE INSANE GAUNT RESIDENCE...]
Hermione pointed to a tiny line of text in the corner:
[THE MUGGLE RIDDLE FAMILY FOUND DEAD; NO SURVIVORS.]
"Heavens... you found that name in a pile of fifty-year-old tabloids?" Justin
was genuinely impressed.
"That's not all."
Hermione produced a stack of loose parchment pages—some torn from books, others
clipped from magazines. She spread them out, creating a mosaic of evidence.
"Beside the Riddles, I found a lead on the Gaunt family. They were the true
Heirs of Slytherin. The bloodline Riddle claimed as his own. If they had
Slytherin's blood, they likely had his heirlooms. The murder of the Muggle
Riddles... the theft of the relics... it all ties back to Tom."
She let out a heavy breath.
"Hermione, has anyone told you that you're a genius?" Justin asked.
"Frequently," she replied, tilting her chin up. "I know I can't match Sean in a
duel. But I have this." She tapped her temple and gave a confident nod.
By the time Sean woke up, the windows of the Shack were black.
Justin and Hermione were both reading nearby—their primary activity in Hope
Cottage lately.
I feel like I was hit by a Knight Bus, Sean thought. His first coherent memory
was the Spiced Wine Tart from the kitchen.
He noticed the silver phial on the desk. He had successfully secured Slughorn's
memory. Dumbledore would be pleased.
"Sean—"
Hermione closed her book and walked over.
"Good evening, Hermione," Sean said.
"We heard," Justin said, joining them. He was never one to beat around the bush.
Hermione glared at him for being so blunt.
"Mmm," Sean nodded. He didn't mind them knowing about the Horcruxes. They had
been in the trenches with him since first year; at this point, they weren't just
students—they were allies.
He glanced around and noted Ron wasn't in the room. He felt a wave of relief.
Ron was a good friend, but his lack of a "filter" made him a liability for the
highest-level secrets.
"We have a discovery regarding the soul-anchors," Hermione said, her nose in the
air. "I suspect even you might not know everything."
Sean looked up, a hint of genuine curiosity touching his eyes.
"Go ahead," he prompted.
"We believe Voldemort targeted the relics of the four Founders," Justin
explained. "He's obsessed with his own 'greatness.' He uses these items to mask
his insecurity and project an image of ancient, absolute power."
Sean was impressed. He gave a slow, serious nod of agreement.
"And Hermione found this..."
When she produced the article about Morfin Gaunt, Sean's eyebrows shot up. He
recognized the man in the photo immediately. He looked from the newspaper to
Hermione, his gaze lingering with an expression she clearly enjoyed.
"You've found the Gaunts," Sean noted.
"We did. Tell us... would he use a Slytherin relic as a Horcrux? Because if he
did, it would be the ultimate prize for him." Justin looked at Sean with a
starving expectation.
"Slytherin's relics..." Sean was silent for a long moment.
"Yes," Justin pressed. "Voldemort despises the Muggle half of himself. We found
Muggle records of a squire's son, Tom Riddle Sr., running away with a tramp's
daughter named Merope Gaunt. The connection is undeniable. If he found the
Gaunts, he found Slytherin's legacy."
"You two... you've done exceptional work," Sean said softly.
He was stunned. They had pieced together the puzzle using nothing but logic and
historical fragments. It seemed everyone in this room was working toward the
same light.
"So, the Slytherin relic—" Hermione asked breathlessly.
"Destroyed," Sean said flatly.
The Shack went silent.
"You mean..." Hermione faltered.
"Both of them. The Gaunt Ring and Slytherin's Locket. They have been found and
neutralized," Sean clarified.
Hermione slumped into her chair, her bottom lip quivering. "I just hope I didn't
look too ridiculous with my 'big discovery' just now."
"What about Hufflepuff's Cup?" Justin asked.
Sean shook his head slightly, and Hermione's eyes instantly brightened with a
competitive spark.
"You haven't found it yet?!"
"Mmm... not quite."
Technically, Dumbledore didn't know where it was. Therefore, "They" didn't know.
"Which means—!" Hermione stood up, energized.
"Which means we will have a mission soon," Sean said significantly.
He knew the Cup was in Gringotts. He had seen the Lestrange vault. It was time
to return to the Goblins and claim his "friendship" reward.
A month passed in a blur of snow and study.
By late February, the pressure of the term was taking its toll. Hermione, who
was balancing her Horcrux research with a schedule that physically defied the
laws of time, finally reached her breaking point.
"For heaven's sake!" she shrieked during Divination. "Stop mentioning that
ridiculous Grim!"
Professor Trelawney stared at her, her eyes looking like huge, watery orbs
behind her glasses. Parvati and Lavender hissed in disapproval, glaring at
Hermione.
Trelawney stood up, her sequined shawl shimmering with her indignation. "I am
sorry to say, dear, but from the moment you first set foot in this room, it was
clear you lacked the gift. I cannot remember a student whose mind was quite
so... mundane. So hopelessly anchored to the logic of the earth."
The class held its breath.
"FINE!" Hermione shouted, slamming Unfogging the Future into her bag. "FINE!"
she repeated, swinging the bag over her shoulder and nearly knocking Justin out
of his chair. "I give up! I'm leaving!"
The class watched in stunned silence as Hermione marched to the trapdoor, kicked
it open, and stomped down the silver ladder until she vanished from sight.
It took several minutes for the room to settle. Professor Trelawney clutched her
heart, gasping for air.
"Oh...!" Lavender suddenly cried out. "Professor, I remember now! You foresaw
this! At the start of the term! 'Around Easter, one of our number shall leave us
forever!' You said it, Professor! You were right!"
Trelawney offered a tearful, tragic smile. "Yes, dear. I knew Miss Granger would
depart. But one always hopes the omens are wrong... the Inner Eye is a heavy
burden, you know..."
Lavender and Parvati looked ready to worship her on the spot. But in the back of
the room, Sean had already stood up.
Trelawney looked at him, startled.
"I'm feeling unwell, Professor," Sean said.
No one dared to challenge him. Sean offered a polite bow and walked out of the
attic.
He found Hermione in the corridor below, wiping tears from her eyes. The moment
she saw him, she straightened her back and tried to look as though nothing were
wrong.
"You're working too hard, Hermione," Sean said softly. "You need to let yourself
breathe."
"You're the last person who should be giving that advice," she snapped, though
her red-rimmed eyes robbed the words of any bite.
"Mmm," Sean didn't deny it.
"When do we move?" she asked, changing the subject.
"After you've had a proper rest," Sean replied.
"So we're putting the war on hold for a nap? What does my sleep schedule have to
do with Voldemort?"
"Nothing," Sean said gently. "But it has everything to do with the quality of my
teammates. Don't push yourself to the point of breaking."
Hermione froze. Her voice dropped to a tiny whisper. "I understand."
As she walked away toward the library, Sean opened his system panel.
[Transfiguration Branches:]
- Magical Transfiguration: MASTER (1,250/3,000,000)
- Material Transfiguration: MASTER (1,250/3,000,000)
- Soul Transfiguration: MASTER (11,250/3,000,000)
After two months of relentless grinding, he had officially reached the Master
tier across all branches of Transfiguration. Now, he just needed to find the
source of his proficiency spike in the Lands Between to forge his Legendary
status.
With that power, facing Voldemort—or breaking into Gringotts—would no longer be
a gamble. It would be an inevitability.
Suddenly, his Magic Hand Mirror vibrated with a long-awaited notification.
[System: You have received an urgent message from 'Sirius'.] [Sirius: Mr. Green,
I hope this finds you well. He has settled. We have found him in Albania.]
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