Chapter Fourteen

"What do you mean?" Harry asked, narrowing his eyes in curiosity.

"The locket, Harry! There WAS a locket! We saw it... we passed it around... we all held it!"

"What are you on about, Hermione?" Ron snorted, obviously skeptical and a bit unnerved by Hermione's impromptu feverishness.

"At Grimmauld Place last summer. Don't you remember? When we were all cleaning out the drawing room... there was that heavy gold locket with a large 'S' on the front, inlaid with emeralds. We all took turns trying to open it and... "

"But Hermione," Ron countered, "You just said it yourself a few seconds ago! Assuming that particular locket was the one that You-Know-Who made into a horcrux, out of all the millions of lockets out there in existence, would be crazy!"

"Listen, I know this sounds rather misguided, but I really do believe that locket could be the one," Hermione answered and then, seeing the others' doubtful expressions, continued undaunted, "If you recall, nobody could get it open. So I was attempting all the different unlocking and de-warding spells I've read about and, well... I've read about quite a few. Consequently, I was handling that locket for a while, longer than any one of you three. And after the duration... I don't know how to explain it... I just didn't feel... right. Something about that locket just seemed... sinister. It... it affected me."

Harry noticed Ginny tense slightly beside him. He wondered if she was reminded of how strongly Riddle's diary had affected her. He suddenly felt a nearly overwhelming urge to hold her, to wrap his arms around her and not let go. But he rejected the impulse, settling instead for detaching her hand from its forcible grip on her own knee and tenderly lacing her fingers with his own. She visibly relaxed at his touch, and Harry was warmed by his ability to soothe her.

"There were an awful lot of cursed, dark objects in that house, Hermione," Ron reminded her, "Maybe it was just some hexed necklace belonging to Sirius' deranged mum. I mean, it could have been a Black family heirloom or something."

"But if that were the case, why was it engraved with that jeweled 'S' instead of the Black family crest? All their other relics where inscribed with it." Ginny offered.

"Well, that's true," Harry reasoned, "Although I suppose the 'S' could simply stand for 'Slytherin' since the whole lot of them were in Slytherin... except for Sirius, that is. Even Sirius' brother, Regulus, was a... was a..."

Harry was certain he must have been mirroring Hermione's dumbstruck look from earlier when she was remembering the locket, as his brain desperately tried to focus on the details pertaining to a conversation he had with his Godfather nearly a year ago.

"Sirius' brother... Regulus... he was a Death Eater!" Harry cried, "Sirius told me last summer! Hermione... I think... I think you could be right about the locket!"

"What? So... so you think Regulus was holding the locket... the horcrux... for You-Know-Who?" Ron asked, suddenly appearing ashen-faced and distressed. Harry would have smirked at Ron's abrupt reversal of position, as he watched Ron decisively slide closer to Hermione, draping his arm around her shoulders and pulling her close to his side, but he was too caught up in the viability of this new, frightening revelation.

"Think about it Ron, Voldemort entrusted one of the horcruxes, Riddle's diary, to Lucius Malfoy, and Snape believes that Bellatrix Lestrange might have been awarded the task of safeguarding a horcrux as well. So, it stands to reason that he could have relinquished the care of the locket to another Death Eater... Regulus Black!"

"It's a good theory," Hermione commented, "But how can we know for sure?"

"We ask someone with inside information, that's how." Harry answered, grinning sanguinely. And without haste, he bounded off the settee and darted toward the professors' room, hoping Snape could provide more information.

Harry approached the door and stalled, distracted by a precipitous ambivalence. He had never intentionally requested the Potions Master's help before, and now that the situation had arisen, he felt unsure about beseeching the man's assistance. But this is part of trusting him, Harry thought. He wants me to come to him and to not feel as though I have to do everything myself.

Armed with these assurances, Harry found himself tapping lightly on the heavy oak door. Snape emerged a moment later in an impressive swirl of black that fleetingly dimmed the faint flickers from the room's illuminating candles. Harry was surprised to see that he was wearing reading glasses. The thin, wiry frames were balanced expertly on the periphery of his hooked nose, and Snape's glittering black orbs peered expectantly over the top of the lenses, in careful analysis of Harry's nervous demeanor.

"What's wrong? You look pale... have you eaten?" Snape inquired while squinting, his eyes repeatedly darting back and forth over Harry's features in a persistent evaluation of his agitated state.

"Yes, Professor, I ate. And I'm fine. I just..." Harry stopped briskly upon noticing the stack of books in the far corner of the room. The top-most one familiar to Harry, easily discernible by its frayed and ancient-looking binding. The gold lettering on the cover was reflecting the room's candlelight, making the title more legible even from across the room - Immortality: Sorcery Of Soul Splitting. He averted his eyes from it, not really desiring an informative lecture on the intricacies of making a horcrux. Of course it only made sense that Snape would try to gather as much knowledge as possible about the gruesome complexity of this darkest art. He would seek to understand it, in order to defeat it. Harry could certainly appreciate this sentiment, however, at least in this case, he preferred to maintain his ignorance on the subject.

"I was just wondering if... how is he?" Harry began again, but ceased in explaining his presence once more, as he caught a glimpse of the tranquil, aged face of the elderly headmaster, sleeping soundly in one of the room's narrow bunks. His breathing had a frail, labored quality to it, and Harry was unexpectedly filled with dread, doubting the older wizard's ability to rebound from his recent arduous experience.

Snape sighed wearily, but answered, "He will recover, Harry. But the Headmaster has undergone quite an extensive shock, to his body and to his mind. He is currently dosed with a significant amount of Dreamless Sleep. I do not expect him to emerge from its effects until this time tomorrow at the earliest. Now then, what is it I can assist you with?"

"Oh... OK. Um... well, I was wondering if you... uh... if I could... can I ask you..." Harry floundered hopelessly with the English language for several more seconds until Snape liberated him from his failed attempts at coherency.

"Harry, you should realize by now that you may call upon me anytime. And it is glaringly obvious that you currently have something vital that you wish to discuss with me. Even if I were able to disregard your stalling and stuttering, I can easily recognize that zealous glint of poorly-masked Gryffindor brazenness in your eyes. So please, do us both the courtesy of disclosing your current introspection before you renounce all semblance of logic in a fit of anxiety and impulsively react to said disquiet in what would undoubtedly manifest into some unfortunate, impetuous display. Now then, please enlighten me as to what is ruminating in that over-burdened mind of yours so that we may avoid such an event."

Harry couldn't stop the tiny simper that graced his lips upon hearing the typical Snape-ish monologue, so laden with sarcasm, yet deficient in its usual disdain. Stripping the speech of sardonic wit, Harry could quickly recognize the concern behind the derisive words. He peered up into the dark eyes of his professor and felt his apprehension lift, replaced with a comfortable acceptance of this credence offered to him.

"OK. We… Ron, Hermione, Ginny and I… we think we may have a lead on the identity of another horcrux… and possibly its location. And I was hoping you might be able to… uh… tell us what you know about… Regulus Black?" Harry finished hurriedly, nervous in anticipation of Snape's reaction to an inquiry pertaining to a fellow Death Eater, not to mention one that was the brother of his childhood nemesis.

Snape's only demonstration of uneasiness upon hearing Harry's admission presented as an almost imperceptible attenuating of his eyes and a slow, deliberate intake of breath. After a seemingly endless pause during which time Harry busied himself by attempting to wipe away the dampness from his palms by scraping them along the sides of his too-baggy jeans, he returned his gaze to his professor just as Snape began to voice his reply.

"I confess, I do not possess many details regarding Regulus. We were nothing more then acquaintances during his brief stint as a follower of the Dark Lord and perhaps less so while we were at school. However, I am willing to divulge what I DO know, if you would please elaborate on this… lead of yours."

"Oh… yeah. Sure. Could we… join the others?"

Snape gave a terse nod in response and followed Harry out into the sitting room. Whatever conversation had been ongoing prior to their arrival, abruptly dissolved into a series of hushed murmurs and surreptitious glances. Harry paid no mind to the room's altered mood and resumed his previous spot at Ginny's side, while Snape took up residence in the leather-bound chair nearest the hearth. Harry's gaze deviated from the foreboding glower of the Potions Master, and settled instead on Hermione's uneasy expression. He implored her with a fixed look, compelling her to begin their exposition. She obliged.

"Professor, do you remember last summer? The four of us… we were helping Mrs. Weasley and Sirius decontaminate Grimmauld Place. Well, we found something in that old cabinet in the drawing room, a locket, and it was… well, um… a very dark object…." Hermione explained, voice slightly higher in pitch and twittering anxiously.

"Miss Granger, just because you and your friends discovered a cursed artifact hidden amongst the possessions of an exceedingly dark family, should not imply that it is one of the Dark Lord's horcruxes. I should think that you might have a bit more of a grounded rationale when it comes to such…"

"Professor, please just listen! Ron heard the Headmaster mumble something about a locket while he and Hermione where attempting to get him to his room this morning. And he was still under the truth spell's influence at the time. He must have been referring to another horcrux!" Harry argued adamantly, "And I know it seems like too much of a coincidence, but Hermione swears that the locket at Grimmauld Place had a negative affect on her. And Regulus was a Death Eater! Sirius told me last summer. Voldemort could have given him the locket to keep safe, just like Lucius Malfoy was given the diary and…"

"Harry…" Snape interrupted, "I am intrigued by the knowledge that the Headmaster mentioned a locket while still impacted by the spell. And I will admit that it is a compelling evidence of a locket being one of the five remaining horcruxes. However, the Dark Lord would never have given anything that he considered valuable to Regulus Black for safekeeping, and most assuredly not a piece of his own soul. I'm afraid that part of your theory is quite inconceivable."

"But, he WAS a Death Eater!" Harry asserted.

"Yes, Harry, but he was never considered more than a lowly pawn among the Dark Lord's many followers. Regulus was merely an entry-level Death Eater, no more than a puppet to be manipulated and exploited, coerced into facilitating nothing more than the Dark Lord's most trivial tasks. He would never have been awarded such an elite assignment. And if the rumors are to be believed, he was a Death Eater for scarcely more than a year before he began exhibiting the conspicuous signs of regret over his decision to be marked. It would be a great understatement to insinuate that the Dark Lord does not take kindly to those who seek... ah... retirement from his service. Regulus disappeared not long after that, just before you were born actually, and was not heard from again."

Harry sighed laboriously, deflated by this latest blow. He had been clinging to the hope that this obscure theory would lead them to the destruction of one more fragment of Voldemort's existence. Silence weighed heavily upon them now, as the five sat motionless, each arrested by their separate reflection. Harry glanced up at Snape to find him staring intently at him, yet his eyes seemed out of focus. Some lone amorphous notion appeared to be formulating behind their depths.

"What… did it look like?" His question cut through the quiet like a blade, sharp with implied significance.

"It was gold…. very large… and it was embellished with an ornate 'S' made of… emeralds, I think. It actually looked very much like a snake," Hermione offered, "It was very heavy too, almost as though it were solid. But none of us could open it, Professor. I tried all sorts of charms…"

"A large 'S'… encrusted with… green gems? And the 'S' resembled a snake?" Snape interjected.

Harry could practically see the wheels turning within the complex workings of Snape's mind. He must have understood something because he quickly redirected his attention from Hermione and back to him.

"Harry, did you try speaking to it?" Snape asked, a febrile gleam replacing his normal indifference.

"What? What do you mean… speaking to it?"

"Parseltongue, Harry. Did it or did it not resemble the snake-like emblem adorning all relics associated with Salazar Slytherin?" Snape retorted impatiently.

"Oh… well… I…" Harry stammered comically, feeling completely flummoxed. Yes, now that Snape mentioned it, that 'S' did look like the mark of Slytherin. The silver and green snake curled into a perfect 'S' shape was emblazoned on all things Slytherin, and could even be seen on the Hogwarts crest itself. And, of course, if this were a Slytherin artifact, it stood to reason that to open the thing, Parseltongue would be the obvious choice.

"I'm sorry, Professor… I never thought about it at the time. But… does this mean…. do you agree with us that this locket could be a horcrux?" Harry asked.

"I… yes, I think that remains a distinct possibility. Genuine Slytherin artifacts are exceedingly rare. If what you describe is factual AND if the Headmaster can confirm the possibility of a locket being used as a horcrux, then I do believe we should take a closer look at this particular locket. I continue to be perplexed as to how it would have fallen into the hands of the Black family, however it does stand to reason that Regulus could have had something to do with it despite his nominal servitude under the Dark Lord's regime."

"Oh no!" Ginny's startling gasp seemed to splinter the resonating optimism, as she whipped her head around to fix Hermione with a desperate stare. "Hermione! Didn't… didn't Sirius throw all that stuff away? All those mad things we found in the cabinet… the music box, those wretched tweezer things and… and the locket! Sirius threw them all in that dustbin… didn't he?"

"Oh God… oh no… Harry, Ginny's right!" She replied apologetically, her eyes seeking remission. "I'm so sorry! The bin was right beside me, and once I started to feel the locket's effects… I… I remember now… I just…just threw it away!" Her words dwindled into a soft, muffled whimper as Ron pulled her close and she buried her face in his t-shirt.

"Kreacher," Harry muttered soundlessly.

"What?" Ron asked.

"KREACHER!" Harry bellowed, standing now, fists clenched with unbridled anxiety, "He was stealing things back, remember? He was nicking all kinds of Black family heirlooms from the piles of rubbish… he might have…"

But Harry did not get to finish his explanation as the there was a deafening CRACK that reverberated loudly throughout the sitting room, and the tiny, filthy beast in question stood before them looking astonished to find himself in their company.

"What the…?" Ron uttered despite his shock. "How did you manage to summon that demented elf, Harry?"

"Harry… a word. Please." Snape ascended from his chair and beckoned Harry to follow him into the kitchen. Harry struggled to extricate his thoughts away from what had just occurred long enough to obey. With one last perplexed glance in his friends' direction, he followed the professor. Once alone in the kitchen, Snape scanned Harry's still incredulous features, seeking connection with Harry's eyes. Harry obliged, curious when he noticed a sympathetic, yet clearly apprehensive expression.

"Harry… I have no doubt Professor Dumbledore had meant to discuss this with you himself, but as he is indisposed and considering the rather unforeseen appearance of a certain house-elf, I expect that onus now falls to me."

"Discuss… what, exactly?" Harry inquired nervously.

"Sit."

Harry sat.

"Sirius Black's Last Will And Testament named you as his sole beneficiary. You have essentially been designated as his heir. You own the entirety of his estate; all his gold, land and property, including Grimmauld Place and its solitary inhabitant… Kreacher. This is why you were able to summon him. He defers to your command only now."

"But… but I don't want that foul elf! I don't want anything to do with him! He betrayed Sirius! He…"

"You do NOT have a choice in this matter. You must accept this despite the pain it brings you. The Order of the Phoenix needs to retain number twelve Grimmauld Place as its headquarters, and we need to be certain that it is indeed safe to do so. The question of Kreacher's loyalties must be resolved if we are to proceed in this endeavor. And we need you to fulfill this obligation. Do you understand?"

Harry's eyes fell to the floor, as he nodded minutely, ashamed of the sudden emergence of tears in his eyes.

"Harry…. look at me." He returned his attention to the Professor's earnest expression searching for strength from this man who had endured so much hardship throughout his life. Hoping for some inexplicable offering of courage from this unlikely hero.

"You can do this." Snape whispered. A simple statement, but nevertheless effective. Harry nodded again, this time with more conviction.

"Now… let's see if we can't find out a bit more about this locket, shall we?"

- o -

The next few hours passed by in what can only be described as a disturbing onslaught of rapidly shifting emotion. It took most of the first hour just to calm the irate elf after being taken from his home by what he referred to as a conspiratorial attack on the Noble House of Black by the filth that seek to destroy it. At the hour's conclusion, Harry resorted to forbidding the flailing creature from uttering another word in order for their queries to be heard.

After many failed attempts at prying information from the elf pertaining to the location of the locket, it was Hermione who finally broke through to him. She simply asked him if the locket had been Regulus', causing Kreacher to erupt into a barrage of whimpers and sobs. Once the trembling elf regained his poise, however, he told them a horrid tale about a frightening journey to a dark lake in an underground cave, a luminescent poison with grave effects and a brave young man who sought to bring about the demise of the Dark Lord by paying the ultimate price. By the end of Kreacher's story, the only dry eyes in the room belonged to Snape, although Harry found it revealing that at the most intense, emotionally-charged point of the story, Snape allowed his dark, sable strands of hair to fall upon his face, effectively keeping his face hidden in shadow.

The house-elf also recounted his many futile attempts to destroy the locket after Regulus' untimely death. And he confirmed, to everyone's immense relief, that he had, in fact, stolen the horcrux back from the rubbish bin last summer and was currently hiding it in his filthy nook under the boiler at Grimmauld Place.

They concluded Kreacher's visit by assuring the small being that their only aim was to finish the work of Regulus Black, to eliminate the locket that he had attempted unsuccessfully to destroy for the last sixteen years. After much sniveling and countless unsteady breaths, the trembling elf was noticeably pacified. He bid them farewell after promising to guard the locket and keep it safe within the protective wards of Grimmauld Place. Harry had initially argued with Snape that they should allow the elf to bring the locket to them, but Snape however, adamantly refused, reasoning that it was too dangerous for them to be in such close confines with the horcrux over the remainder of their quarantine. Ginny seemed quite relieved by this. Harry couldn't blame her based on her own horrifying experience with a piece of Voldemort's soul.

Dinner was a quiet affair, all occupants of the room too immersed in dark thoughts over the day's disturbing events. Harry supposed they should all feel some solace upon discovering another horcrux, but the oppressive task of ascertaining the other four AND destroying the one they had somehow stumbled upon, weighed heavily on their success, essentially negating their recent triumph.

And all throughout their meal, Harry couldn't shake this nagging dread in the back of his mind. He kept fixating on those books in the professors' room and became alarmed when he felt a strong urge to rip them to shreds, defile their pages, ruin their dark, vile illuminations. He felt angry, nervous and... strangely threatened... not exactly by the books themselves, but perhaps by the knowledge lying within the content of their worn pages.

While Ginny, Ron and Hermione cleaned up after dinner, Harry pulled Snape aside to speak privately with the man. He wasn't exactly certain how to disclose his recent unease about those books containing the secrets of soul magic, blood sacrifice and immortality, but he had promised Snape that he would come to him, confide in him when he was anxious or upset. Harry intended to keep that promise.

"Professor, I'd like to ask you about... about those books in your room," Harry tentatively began, "I know you're reading them, and I was just wondering... if you found anything important in them about... um... our situation?"

Snape took a labored breath and held it, seemingly stalling while searching for the right words. When he exhaled, he pursed his lips together firmly and furrowed his brow revealing his agitation with the subject matter.

"I have only just begun reading them, Harry, but I can tell you they are... quite disturbing. The text on soul splitting alone tells of some of the darkest magic known to wizard-kind. But... I do believe that I have uncovered a few ways to destroy a horcrux. Neither method is easy to facilitate, but they remain viable solutions to our dilemma of eliminating..."

"Alright, OK... that's... great, Professor... really. I'll just go to bed then. I... I'm really exhausted and..." Harry rambled somewhat illogically turning abruptly from Snape as he was suddenly accosted by sharp, overwhelming waves of panic. Snape was quick, however, grabbing Harry by the cuff of his tee and pulling him back to face him once more. He gripped Harry's upper arms tightly as he bent down slightly and peered into his eyes wide with poorly-controlled fear.

"Harry, what is it? What are you feeling?" Snape pleaded.

"I... I just... I don't know!" He exclaimed. Harry's breathing became shallow and his face was feeling heated, as he fought for some kind of control over this rising dread. And in the midst of his sickening panic, that hauntingly familiar voice raged inside his mind, battled for dominance, struggled to be heard once more. You are nothing without me, Harry. You exist only because I let you. I will never leave you... you and I... are the same. You and I are one.

"No! No... Please no!..." Harry anguished, as he slid down the wall to the cold, hard floor, shaking and clutching his head. The voice was ear-splitting and the pain in his scar was returning. He suddenly felt the warmth of protective arms wrap around him and another, softer voice competing for his regard, whispering urgently in his ear.

"Fight him, Harry. Remember what I told you about your strength, your power, your weapon. Use your love, Harry. Let yourself feel what he will NEVER understand. Let your love drive him out."

Harry focused on Snape's words, his meaning, while he struggled to assuage his fear. He concentrated fixedly on his feelings for his friends...Ron, Hermione, Ginny... and Sirius... he let the emotions they evoked permeate his heart, allowing his very soul to be enveloped in the warmth of his love for them. As Snape's words persisted, grounding him to his task, he welcomed a new emotion, a new endearment that nearly overwhelmed his heart. He let himself basque in its benevolent energy, opened his heart to its tangible sincerity. And all at once, he felt his constricting panic lift. His pain was completely depleted. And Voldemort's menacing voice was muted once more.

OK... another chapter finished! This was a challenging one for me, but I hope you enjoyed it regardless of the hardships I endured writing it! Next up... the Headmaster will have to "own up" to few more things. Should be fun!

Please review! :)