Chapter 222 – Hufflepuff's Golden Cup
Dumbledore nodded, then looked at Phineas with a gentle admonishment.
"You'll be tempted, of course. Even a single founder's inheritance is a key to becoming a legendary wizard. But you now know of three—"
Phineas hesitated, then said a bit sheepishly, "Well… four, actually."
Dumbledore's eyes widened in surprise. Clearly, he hadn't expected Phineas to have found clues to all four founders' legacies.
Phineas scratched his head and smiled awkwardly. "Actually, it's more like two. I haven't entered Hufflepuff's or Slytherin's chambers yet, so I can't be sure the inheritance is there."
"But in your heart, you already believe that's where it is—don't you?" Dumbledore said, his tone both probing and certain.
At first glance, his words seemed inaccurate—Phineas himself had just said he couldn't be sure. But with deeper thought, there was truth in Dumbledore's assertion. Even if Phineas hadn't confirmed what lay within the chambers, the very fact he had located them meant he was close. Perhaps his conclusions weren't precise, but the truth was within reach.
Phineas gave a bitter smile and shook his head, saying nothing more.
Dumbledore smiled kindly and shifted the subject.
"Let's set aside the matter of inheritance for now. Tell me—do you believe Hufflepuff's golden cup is also a Horcrux?"
Phineas nodded. "As I've said before, Voldemort is a man of immense pride—though that pride conceals deep insecurity. He clings to pure-blood ideals while rejecting the Muggle blood in his veins. He abandoned the name Tom Riddle to sever ties with his father. The truth is, he's a half-blood born of a Muggle and a witch who likely used a love potion. It's made him volatile and vulnerable."
Dumbledore nodded solemnly. "I realized much of that the first time I met him. He hated Muggles—perhaps all non-magical beings—due to his childhood. At Hogwarts, he was sorted into Slytherin, where blood purity was revered. His talent and charisma quickly won over like-minded followers."
Phineas continued, "Exactly. Look at the Horcruxes we know: the Gaunt family's ring, which doubles as the Resurrection Stone—a symbol of his maternal line and his claim to greatness. Slytherin's locket, Ravenclaw's diadem, and now Hufflepuff's cup—each is a founder's relic, steeped in history and symbolic meaning. They reflect his pride and his obsession with legacy. If Gryffindor's sword hadn't been in your possession, I suspect he would have turned it into a Horcrux too."
Dumbledore let out a heavy sigh. "Your reasoning is sound. When you mentioned the cup, I believed you. But once you found Hufflepuff's legacy, I began to wonder—were you trying to deceive me?"
It wasn't an unreasonable suspicion. Had Phineas merely warned of the Horcrux and asked for something else, it wouldn't have raised concerns. But he specifically requested the cup—making it appear he was using the Horcrux story to obtain it.
Dumbledore paused before continuing. "Yet, your analysis of Tom's psyche is nearly perfect. If you knew every detail of his life, I imagine you could predict much of his behavior—his strategies, his weaknesses. Given what you've said, it stands to reason that the cup truly was made into a Horcrux. So—where is it? You must know, or you wouldn't be telling me all this."
Phineas smiled ruefully. Dumbledore had seen straight through him.
"It's in the Lestrange vault at Gringotts."
Dumbledore blinked, surprised.
"After Tom wiped out the Gaunt line, he'd never entrust anything to goblins. He'd never hide something so important in Gringotts."
"That's true," Phineas agreed. "He mistrusted all non-humans. But just because he wouldn't use a vault doesn't mean someone else didn't."
Realization dawned in Dumbledore's eyes. "Bellatrix Lestrange?"
Phineas nodded. "She's my cousin. Fanatically loyal. My mother once said Bella would have married him if given the chance—and still would, even after marrying elsewhere. She would do anything for him."
Dumbledore nodded slowly, his expression thoughtful.
"In his prime, the Lestranges were among his most trusted. Of course he'd give her a Horcrux to protect. And Bella, being a pure-blood traditionalist, would store such a treasure in the most secure place she could think of—Gringotts."
Dumbledore stood. "So, you want me to retrieve the golden cup from the Lestrange vault."
Phineas stood as well. "Yes, Professor. You know how tight security is down there. Even though the Black family holds shares in Gringotts, I have no authority over another family's vault—especially not one belonging to one of the Sacred Twenty-Eight."
Dumbledore gave a small nod. "Then tell me—what does this cup look like? Since you've come this far, I assume you have a description."
Phineas paused. To him, it seemed unthinkable that someone of Dumbledore's stature wouldn't know what Hufflepuff's cup looked like.
But in truth, it wasn't surprising. Gryffindor's sword was in Dumbledore's possession. Slytherin's locket was famous due to the Gaunt family and Voldemort's use. Ravenclaw's diadem had been missing for centuries. And Hufflepuff's cup? It had remained hidden, passed down quietly until the family tried to win Voldemort's favor. Only then had its existence become known.
"It's a large golden cup, shaped like a trophy," Phineas explained. "It has two finely wrought handles—ornate but elegant."
Dumbledore nodded and turned to Fawkes. Without another word, the phoenix burst into flames and vanished, taking Dumbledore with him.
Phoenixes were wondrous creatures. Native to regions like Egypt, India, and China, they were known for their longevity, healing tears, and unique ability to disappear and reappear at will—even within anti-Apparition zones like Hogwarts. Their song could embolden the pure of heart and terrify the corrupt. Their feathers made some of the most powerful wand cores—like the ones in Phineas's wand, Harry's wand, and even Voldemort's.
The Dumbledores had long had ties to phoenixes, though how Fawkes came to be with Albus remained a mystery. Some said Grindelwald gave him the bird. Others believed it was a family legacy. Rumors even claimed Dumbledore had another brother somewhere. Whatever the truth, Dumbledore rarely Apparated anymore—Fawkes served as his means of travel, much like Puff did for Phineas.
Moments later, a burst of flames flared in the office. Dumbledore reappeared, holding a large golden cup.
He set the cup down on the table and turned to Phineas.
"The cup is here," he said, "but you realize—if we destroy the Horcrux, the cup itself will be damaged. That would make it impossible to open the Hufflepuff chamber. Yet, if we don't destroy the Horcrux, I can't give it to you."
Phineas nodded. "There are only a few ways to destroy a Horcrux. The Killing Curse won't work—and I definitely won't allow Gryffindor's sword to be used. That would destroy the cup. So, we'll use the third method."
He snapped his fingers. Puff appeared, carrying Phineas's suitcase.
Phineas opened it and pulled out a small vial of thick, black liquid.
Dumbledore examined the bottle with interest. He uncorked it, sniffed it gently, then looked up in recognition.
"Basilisk venom?"
Though phrased as a question, his tone was certain.
Phineas nodded. "Yes. Even that wasn't easy to obtain."
Dumbledore looked at him, clearly impressed. "I never expected you to acquire such a thing. The magical world has known how to breed basilisks since the time of Herpo the Foul, but very few have succeeded. Most wizards only know the creature by name. I've never seen one myself—only studied the venom in old records."
Phineas nodded. "Since Herpo's time, many have tried. But in recorded history, only Slytherin managed to raise two successfully."