Harry sat back in his chair, contemplating the Headmaster, who stared back at him just as intently. He obviously believed him. Now it was going to be time to implement all the changes he needed them to make so that the future he had come from wouldn't happen. There was so much to do.
There were Horcruxes to find, wraiths to banish, a basilisk to deal with, a traitor to imprison, a Godfather to free, prisoners to ensure didn't ever get released and a few ministry officials to reprimand and imprison. It was going to be a long and hard task. He realized that he needed every single advantage he could get, but Harry was also wary of altering the timeline to the point where he wouldn't know what was coming. He was in quite a conundrum and was hoping that the venerable Headmaster could help him overcome the obstacles he was sure to face. The soft sound of the Headmaster clearing his throat called Harry back from his ruminations. He pinched the bridge of his nose as he tried to prioritize the things that needed to be done. Quirrell was first on the list. He knew that Voldemort in his wraith form was more connected to his disembodied soul pieces than when was possessing someone or when he was in reconstructed body of his own. This was his chance to rid them of the most easily accessible Horcrux right now. The one here at Hogwarts. Yet to do that he needed the sword of Gryffindor to come out of the hat. He needed to get the goblin forged blade coated with basilisk venom that would render it a weapon capable of destroying Horcruxes.
"Do you know what a Horcrux is, Headmaster?" He asked quietly, intense green eye seeking truth in the Headmaster's blue ones. He wasn't worried about Legilimency. It had been a long time since anybody could breach his Occlumency shields. He saw the Headmaster rear back in his seat, flabbergasted.
Albus Dumbledore was shocked, and not for the first time that morning. Of all the questions he expected Harry to ask him, this was not one he had expected. To even speak of magic as vile as that brought a sour taste to the light wizard's mouth.
"That is dark magic, Harry. Extremely dark magic. From what I know from my readings, a Horcrux is a soul-vessel. A deliberate split part of a persons soul, to ensure that they do not leave the mortal plane when their body is destroyed. There are very few references to it in easily available books, and they have not believed to be in existence since Morgana LeFay used them. Nobody knows much about their creation or limitations. It's simply not magic that is spoken, written or even thought about by sane, light wizards." Harry let him speak uninterrupted, feeling a little sorry for the rude shock he was going to give the Headmaster in the next few minutes.
Albus Dumbledore stared at the youth in front of him as certain parts of the puzzle clicked into place for him. The reason why he was sure that Voldemort was still alive, lurking on this mortal plane when in reality the rebounded killing curse should have killed him. He had managed to make a Horcrux. Ir was the only explanation that made sense.
"He managed to make a Horcrux?" he asked tentatively, dreading the answer but knowing instinctively that he was right.
"Voldemort has made Horcruxes." He stated it as plainly as he could, not wanting to beat around the bush as the Headmaster was wont to do. He saw him start again. He was feeling quite sorry for the old man, knowing that he had had years to assimilate information that he was going to give him in a few minutes. For some reason he felt a sense of urgency. A sense of impending doom, as if he needed to share the information as soon as possible and begin taking every possible step towards the defeat of Voldemort.
The Headmaster seemed lost in thought for a moment, and then he looked up sharply at Harry. "You said Horcruxes?! He has made more than one?!" The shock was evident on his face and it seemed he was having difficult processing what he was hearing. Harry decided to put the man out of his misery and give him all the information in one go.
"Horcruxes. Plural. He made seven. Voldemort believes that seven is the most sacred, and powerful number magically and has split his soul seven times." He saw the old man turn pale and his blue eyes lost every vestige of a twinkle as he digested this information.
"Do you know how a Horcrux is created Headmaster?" Harry asked out of curiosity. He really wanted to know at what point the Headmaster had really understood what Tom Riddle had done and what it meant. He also wanted to know if even this early on, the master strategist had an inkling that a piece of Voldemort's soul lived in Harry. Of course it didn't any more. The trip through the veil had worked because he had given up Voldemort's soul, tricking the ancient artifact into thinking it was his own.
This was the only reason he was the only person alive who had gone through the veil and come out of it. He had of course taken this into consideration while formulating his plan before convincing Fawkes to help him with it. He had realized that he was a Horcrux in the original timeline while working on his Occlumency shields. He had found a version of Riddle living in his head, feeding off his magic and biding it's time. What had ensued was a battle of wills of epic proportions, until he had finally overcome the soul shard. The only reason he was able to do that was because of his newly created shields, and the fact that in his own mind he was more powerful than Voldemort's soul-shard. He shuddered when he thought about what the consequences would have been had he succumbed. There would have been two powerful versions of Voldemort working together to subjugate the wizarding world. It would have been the end for everyone. He had fortunately managed to over-power the piece of soul and bind it to his will. He had imprisoned it in his own mind, behind shields that could only be manipulated by himself, giving Voldemort no power over him.
He had then learned a lot from this fragment of Riddle's soul. He had learned magic dark and ancient, and the rituals that the self-proclaimed "Lord" had gone through in efforts to enhance his magic and make himself immortal. He had learned the Dark Lord's thoughts and his magic. He had uncovered his secrets. He was very sure that he knew more about Voldemort than any person alive except for Voldemort.
Unfortunately, that soul shard was one that was created accidentally on the night Voldemort had tried to kill him and hence he only knew whatever the Dark Lord knew until that fateful night. The intervening eleven years were unknown to him. He knew that he still had to categorize the knowledge, and that having the knowledge wouldn't directly translate into him having the same skills or experience, but he hoped to use the next few years to perfect those so that when Voldemort came back, he was ready to send him to the deepest, darkest hell from where there was no return.
As it was, that part of Voldemort's soul had been claimed by the Veil of Death as tribute. No living man passed through the veil unscathed. But then no living man had more than one soul inhabiting him, usually. It had been Hermione who had thought of it, which researching an ancient tome, in the hopes of some forgotten magic to defeat the Dark Lord. There she had learned that the Veil of Death stripped the soul out of a person, and their body was rendered into pure energy. She knew Harry had a piece of Voldemort's soul inside him and realized that they could use this if they could change what happened to his body. Sadly she was killed after she had completed the arithmancy calculations that would be needed, and had come up with a way for Fawkes to mitigate the magic that turned the body into pure energy.
The Headmaster didn't seem capable of speech as of yet. He seemed lost in his own thoughts, so Harry answered his own question. "Murder. Cold-blooded, premeditated, remorseless murder. Of course, there is a ritual that separates the soul from the caster, and then binds it to the vessel, but the main prerequisite in the creation of a Horcrux is murder. Bad enough to do it once. Riddle did it seven times."
The Headmaster wasn't listening again. His mind was categorizing all the facts he knew about Tom Riddle and he was avidly looking into the past to try and see if he had missed any signs that his erstwhile student had walked down such a dark and irredeemable path. He had know Tom since he was eleven. He had always known there was something off about the boy and had watched him carefully during his years at Hogwarts. He knew that Tom had opened the Chamber of Secrets in his fifth year, and that Rubeus Hagrid was innocent. He still had no idea what kind of creature or monster the dark haired teen had commanded but he knew that Myrtle Wintle had been a casualty of Tom Riddle's quest for power.
Following his graduation there had been scant news of the magical prodigy. He popped up here and there as people spoke of the absolute waste of a brilliant mind like his working for the antique store called Borgin and Burkes, but not much more was known. And then there had been a period of silence, during which the world had no idea where Tom Riddle had disappeared. As far as most were concerned, the brilliant ex-Head Boy of Hogwarts had vanished, never to be seen again.
Then had started the rumors and the deaths and the disappearances. People were walking the streets afraid of a new Dark Lord. One more terrible than any that had come before them. More terrible than Gellert Grindelwald and Morgana LeFay. There were whispers of an immortal being who was terrifying and magically powerful. Then the rumors became fact. The Death Eaters surfaced and the reign of terror began. Nobody connected this Dark Lord with the once handsome and charismatic Tom Riddle. Nobody but Dumbledore. Now as he looked back, he realized that many of the changes he had witnessed in Tom were probably the result of splitting his soul. Nobody knew what other dark rituals the man had dug out of the annals of the past or created himself to make himself the monster that he was.
"I know how a Horcrux is created." said Dumbledore hoarsely, still reeling in shock at what he had learned. He was most curious as to how Harry Potter had come across this information. It wasn't something the Dark Lord would want bandied about after all.
"How did you come by this information?" asked Dumbledore, looking more weary and defeated than Harry had ever seen him look. "I'm sure this is information that Lord Voldemort would not want spoken about, and knowing how secretive he has always been, even as a child, it seems like the kind of knowledge he would not want anyone to have. It leaves me wondering how you have come by this information."
Harry wondered how to answer that question. He was half tempted to relate his entire story to the Headmaster, beginning with his first year and the philosopher's stone. Yet he knew that with the disappearance of his younger, alternative self from the Great Hall, there was a high chance that Voldemort, who was possessing Quirrell at the moment might up his timeline and make a play for the Philosopher's stone much earlier than he had in the previous timeline. There was no possible way that Voldemort was not curious as to how his arch nemesis had disappeared from under the wards. He decided to stave off the entire story and act on the things he could change right now.
"That is a long and complicated story, which will have to wait for another time." Some vindictive part of Harry enjoyed playing the man his own cards. He was more than a little upset at the way the headmaster had guarded information in the previous timeline. He could understand his reasoning but he didn't like it nonetheless.
"There are things in motion, things that must not be allowed to come to pass. I must make the most of the foreknowledge I have to ensure a better outcome." Dumbledore didn't look too pleased with that so Harry decided to placate him. "I will of course, share everything I know with you as soon as is prudent, but as of now I think our best course of action is to take action." The Headmaster gave a short, jerky nod to that, and gestured for Harry to continue.
"The philosopher's stone. Voldemort is after it. He is currently in the school, possessing one Quinerus Quirrell." Dumbledore leaped out of his chair at that tidbit, his blue eyes flashing. "How could you have not told me that in the first place?" He demanded, displaying his aura. Harry would have been intimidated if he didn't know that the Headmaster didn't mean him any harm personally. He held up both his hands in the universal gesture to stop. And waited for the aged man to resume his seat. "Please. There is more at stake than you can possibly imagine. He is not a threat to the students yet and I will make sure he is taken care off well before he thinks about harming them. Please, Albus. Sit down."
Albus Dumbledore still seemed poised to rush off down the staircase and apprehend the possessed professor. Harry sighed. Perhaps he wasn't imparting this knowledge in the best manner, which would ensure that things went according to his plan. He would have to reveal more of his knowledge of the future to bring the Headmaster back to the present.
"There is a Horcrux hidden in Hogwarts. Riddle used the time he came to see you about being the Defense against the Dark Arts teacher to hide it here in the castle." Dumbledore was still standing, breathing a little heavily and looking like he would dash down the stairs at any given moment. He took a few calming breaths and then sat back down in his throne like chair. "Where is it?"
Harry smiled wryly. "Do you recall a chamber full of chamber pots?" Dumbledore gave him a watery smile and nodded. "I have indeed come across such a chamber during my night time wanderings of this school. I never imagined it contained a part of the soul of the most evil wizard who has ever lived. It seems fitting though.
Harry outright laughed at that. Voldemort's soul in a chamber pot. The mental image left him chortling at the thought of what the Dark Lord would think about their little joke.
"It is called the "Come and Go Room", or the "Room of Hidden Things", or the "Room of Requirement". It is a chamber built by the founders, with astounding magic. It creates that which the user requires the most at any given point of time. A phenomenal piece of Magic." Harry paused, to clear his throat. He was quite parched after speaking for so long. The Headmaster seemed to gauge his discomfort and conjured him a tall glass of water. Nodding his thanks, Harry drained half the glass before putting it down with a contented sigh.
"In his time at Hogwarts, Tom Riddle discovered this room as a place he could hide things. I don't think he ever discovered the true capabilities of the room. Which is fortunate for us, as he could have probably become even more formidable than he was had he discovered the training capabilities of the room." Dumbledore was listening intently with a glass of water of his own in his hands. He was always fascinated to discover something new about the school that had been his home for most of his life.
He knew the castle very well, thanks to the wards that were his duty to maintain, yet there always seemed like there were more secrets to be discovered, more hidden places and more lore and history embedded into the very walls of the castle. He knew that some of his students had found secret passages around the school and out of it. He knew quite a few of them himself but he was also sure there were many others that had failed to come to notice, forgotten over the course of the long and glorious and sometimes bloody history of the magnificent castle. Yet he had never heard of this room. You learn something new every day, he mused to himself. He waited for Harry to continue, wondering how the youth proposed to get rid of the Horcrux.
"In my timeline, I discovered a few of Voldemort's Horcruxes and destroyed them. Fortunately, this was one of them. I know where it is and I know what it is. Unfortunately there are very few things that can destroy a Horcrux." Harry stated plainly. He was hoping that the Headmaster knew of a way to destroy the Horcrux without destroying the vessels. After all, some of them were priceless artifacts of the founders. If there was a way to remove the monster's soul from it without destroying the artifact that would be ideal.
"Fiendfyre." The Headmaster mumbled, almost to himself. He was loath to unleash such magic, as it was difficult to control and could burn down the entire castle in minutes.
Harry nodded his head in acknowledgment. "Yes, Fiendfyre is one way to get rid of them. There are others." He had been toying with the idea of throwing the objects through the veil and asking Fawkes to mitigate the damage to the physical object while allowing the veil to claim the soul-shard. It was a long shot. He glanced at Fawkes and looked into his wise, ancient eyes. He suddenly got the mental feeling from the swan-sized bird that it couldn't be done and that the only reason he had been able to do it for Harry's body was that his body was organic. Fawkes could not manipulate life into an object that had no life. Harry nodded his head at the bird to show that he understood. It would have to be the sword.
"Basilisk venom is another way." Dumbledore looked mildly amused. "Where on earth would you find basilisk venom Harry? The last reported Basilisk was in the sixteen hundreds. They are extinct and thank Merlin for that. Dangerous beasts. Among the most dangerous to have ever existed on the earth."
Harry was tempted to laugh at the absurdity of this situation. He knew that old man was in for another rude shock when he realized that Hogwarts was home to a thousand year old basilisk that had grown to eighty feet long in the intervening years, and that it was as thick as an old oak tree. He could imagine the apoplexy the old man was going to display as Harry revealed yet another threat to his students. HE took a deep, cleansing breath. He had to do this right, or the old man would go off half-cocked and ruin everything. It was not in Albus Dumbledore's nature to take the back seat and allow someone else to make the important decisions. He stifled his mirth, knowing that it wasn't really funny and that his was laughter out of the sheer frustration he felt at the number of forces working against them.
"Do you trust me, Albus?" he asked quietly, looking the man in the eye. He was inordinately pleased when he got a firm nod of the head with absolutely no hesitation. Good. That was important. He decided to make a vow to ensure that the Headmaster would do things his way.
"I, Harry James Potter, swear on my life and my magic that everything I reveal today is the truth. Furthermore, I swear to never knowingly endanger the life of any resident of this castle by my actions. So mote it be." There was a golden flash of magic as his vow was accepted, and Harry felt relived that it would now be easier to convince Dumbledore of things. He half wished that he had thought to do this before, although he wasn't completely dissatisfied with the way the conversation had gone.
Dumbledore raised an eyebrow at him, but didn't say anything at all. If he was taken aback by the vow, he didn't show it. Taking magical vows had been more common when he had been young, but as people lost their honor and integrity they had fallen out of fashion because of their irrevocable nature. It was impressive to see someone make a vow like that confident in their ability to ensure that it's conditions would be met. He was feeling more relieved about Quirrell, now that he knew that Harry was duty bound to take care of him before there were any repercussions to the students or staff. He looked intently at the youth in front of him, wondering what he would get to learn or see next. He was surprised when Harry stood up and walked to the sorting hat which was on a shelf on the side.
He nodded his permission at the unasked question, when Harry turned and raised his eyebrows at him. Then he furrowed his brow as the strange young man put the hat on his head and seemed to be having a conversation with it for quite a while.
"Well, well. What have we here?" said the small voice that Harry remembered vividly. "Back so soon, Potter? Changed your mind about Slyther – My word!"
The hat broke off, seeming flabbergasted at what he was seeing. "How is this possible?" he hissed into Harry's mind, frantically searching through his memories. "You have memories of events that could not have possibly taken place yet! What magic is this, Potter?!"
"Time magic. It's hard to explain." Harry thought out, noting with interest that the hat seemed to bypass his Occlumency shields as if they weren't there.
"Dangerous magic, Potter. Very, very dangerous magic." The hat said primly, perusing more of his memories of the war to come. Harry winced as the hat viewed a memory that showed an event that had taken place shortly before he had gone through the veil. It had been a Death Eater meeting in a clearing in Nottinghamshire. Harry and his friends had been ruthless that day. Breaking bones, casting hexes and putting the Death Eaters down hard. Many of them died that day, including George Weasley and Michael Corner. They had killed seven of Voldemort's Death Eaters, including Marcus Avery, who was known to be a mass murderer, rapist, arsonist and torturer. The rest had been low level Death Eaters who had recently joined the cause.
"No mercy to your enemies, eh Potter?" the hat thought snidely as he went through other memories of fights with Death Eaters, as well as the three times that he had duelled Voldemort himself. "You have become powerful Potter. Very powerful. My word. I don't think I've ever come across such power more than four times in my entire thousand years of existence. Power corrupts, Potter. Don't forget that."
Harry gritted his teeth at the sanctimonious hat, and decided to ask for what he wanted. "I need the sword. I am a Gryffindor and I need the sword. It is needed to save the school and to save the students."
The hat seemed to be considering this. He heard or rather felt it gasp. "You are of Godric's line! How did I miss that when I sorted you?" Harry was a little confused about that as well. The most logical explaination he could come up with was that at the time, he hadn't known it himself. Yet the hat was not done. He felt it start again. "You are also the Heir to Salazar Slytherin! How...?" the hat trailed off, probably getting the human equivalent of a headache through his revelations.
"Through conquest. I defeated the Heir of Slytherin. Several times. Magic itself deemed the title and line forfeit to me." Harry explained. This was taking too long. "I need the sword, hat. It was placed in your care to be delivered to a Gryffindor in need. I am Lord Gryffindor and I am in need. Do your duty!"
He felt the hat acquise to his wishes and was about to tell him not to drop the sword on his head when he felt a thunk on the top of his skull and he saw stars for a moment. Bloody hat, he grumbled to himself as he whipped it off his head.
He reverently wrapped his hand around the familiar silver handle, taking in the ruby on the pommel guard and the engraving on the bottom of the blade. Godric Gryffindor. The Headmaster stood with his mouth open in a comical 'O' as Harry drew the ancient and glorious blade from the hat. Fawkes burst into song as the sword's magic connected with Harry, much the same way a wand does. A gust of wind blew through the room and there was a shower of red and gold sparks as Harry held the blade aloft.
"This can destroy Horcruxes, Headmaster." Harry stated blandly, turning to the astonished man beside him. It was finally beginning.
