"I think I would rather have sacrificed something," Luna said, half seriously. She felt a bit overwhelmed by her introspective meditation. When the girl had looked into her soul, she'd found a hidden stash of regret and doubt. Her mother was dead, her father was absent, she was getting bullied and was going through a bit of a personal crisis. That was hardly an easy thing to confront and accept as a twelve-year-old girl. She supposed it was cathartic, but even her usual cheerful attitude had failed her.
Harry rounded off their Yuletide celebrations with his much more complex ritual that needed to wait until midnight on the solstice. He couldn't help but feel awkward about it. It was the first time killing in front of an audience, and he couldn't help but feel like they were all watching him strip naked or something of equal embarrassment.
Harry drew up an array, a seven-pointed star surrounding a rune of power. He poured salt into the crevices and then gently set his horcrux in the center and the bodies of three unconscious people set in a triangle around that.
Harry was crafting a talisman, which served as an emergency power source. By feeding it power whenever one had some to spare, over time it created a reservoir for intense spells. Harry could generally only muster the strength for one Dark spell a day, which was inconvenient at best and dangerous at worst. Thus, the talisman. Of course, traditional sorcerers would have to spend years feeding it to reach a level of remotely usable power, but as was usual, there was a workaround for those with limited morals.
He could volunteer the magic from murdered wixen. The three people he currently had for the ritual would serve as the sacrifice to tie the signet ring to his magical core but necromancy was, as a rule, not fond of double dipping. He couldn't kill someone and use them in a ritual and then steal their magic. He would have to kill specifically with the intent to further his power. Such mindless killing would come at the cost of his sanity, however. So it was not like he had unlocked a free avenue of unlimited power. He would have to carefully plan out a reasonable amount of premeditated, guilt-free murders. Harry already had a lengthy list compiled. It was a bit embarrassing how exciting he found the idea. He hadn't craved power before, he had plenty of it - the talisman was a logical source of back-up power in case of any further shenanigans he found himself in. Still, he was more enthused about the prospect of murder than was necessary.
He took a look at his eager audience. He trusted his friends, but they had all drawn their lines in the sand by picking some of the least morally compromising rituals. They had never witnessed a murder before, let alone witnessed Harry commit one. They were unwilling to participate in that aspect of the Dark Arts.
But Harry was much too eager, much too broken and twisted and wrong. He stared down at the bodies and felt nothing. What was Sirius thinking? What was Luna? Did they hate him? Did they know that a small part of Harry adored this, could they tell? How did other people murder? Were they sad? Harry hadn't cried about such a thing since he'd been six and murdered his uncle to craft his horcrux.
Harry wanted so much to be normal. But such a thing was impossible, he knew it. He was pretty sure he was the exact opposite.
He had a sudden urge to hide, and a gust of wind tickled along his spine. The Invisibility Cloak wrapped itself around his shoulders, shielding him from the other's view. He didn't think too hard about how it had gotten from its spot in his trunk and gave it a rub between his fingers in thanks. It sent him a rush of fondness. Well, at least his Cloak didn't think hurting innocent people was that bad.
Harry let the darkness furrow from his soul and great shadows rose around him.
Returning to the ritual, comforted that he was working semi-privately, he slashed his wand at each of the three victims, tearing into their souls with a Killing Curse. He reveled in their deaths, feeling their life force snuff out as he took them. The wonderful, powerful feeling of necromancy swirled around in his veins and he raised his wand to complete the ritual.
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