Chapter 29- Horcrux
*****Severus*****
Severus stared at the old book of Tom Riddle's again. It seemed like just an ordinary, mostly destroyed book now. There was nothing mystical about it to explain how it had nearly destroyed the entire school. The thing could even be written in, on the small scraps of paper that were left, and the ink wouldn't disappear the way Harry had described it, which wasn't entirely surprising after it's thorough destruction, but Severus had wanted to reassure himself.
Severus looked over to his most private stores, locked in his own quarters. Behind that door was quite a large quantity of basilisk venom and all of the intact fangs. It had taken basilisk venom to destroy that damn book, which had to mean something about the way it was made, what protective enchantments were put on the thing.
Severus had been back down to the chamber once more, imitating the sounds that Harry made to gain entrance. He'd harvested the venom and fangs, as well as large quantities of skin and blood before… disposing of the flesh.
The venom would fetch a large price if he ever wanted to sell it, though it was a dangerous substance to allow out of his sight. For now, at least, he intended it for research purposes only. And he had been researching quite a lot with very little to show for it.
Severus glanced over at his new penseive, acquired at no small price, but worth it to not have to ask to borrow Albus's so often. He had been going over that interaction with the shade again and again, needing to glean something from that interaction. There was something there, he was sure. The thing had the careless speech of a child. "I will rise again. Lord Voldemort is not dead. This, all of this, is only one small plan of mine. There will have been others. You would have known if you were actually one of my trusted followers."
Was the shade in some way certain that his future self wasn't dead, even though he wouldn't have heard anything to that effect from the Weasley girl? Or was it only bravado? Had Lucius been writing in the book before passing the thing off to the Weasley girl?
Severus was also certain that the Dark Lord wasn't actually dead, after the madman spent so long making his mysterious safe-guards against death. Perhaps he had already been making them at age sixteen…
And how much of this, all of the trouble at Hogwarts this year, had been a plan made over fifty years ago by the real teenage Riddle? What was that purpose of this diary? Was it only to cause havoc, or was it more? 'There will have been others?' Other what?
Other diaries to cause problems?
Other protections against death?
Was that what this diary was- a reason that the memory of teenage Tom Riddle would be sure his future self wasn't dead if the diary was intact? And there were more of them? Was he reading too deeply into a few careless words from the memory of a teenager?
But no, Severus was almost sure that he was on the right track, and now he needed more resources. If he was lucky, he could avoid visiting any of his old friends to do that research. He would have to try. Severus couldn't afford alerting anyone like Lucius Malfoy. So far, he'd managed not to make an enemy out of Lucius, which was important for him to keep track of Draco. No, he'd go other places- search overseas if he needed to. He still had a few contacts that he trusted.
*****Harry*****
"Hermione, relax. Are you alright?" Ron asked their friend who was writing furiously on an essay that Harry had actually already finished. She did look rather panicked, and there was really no reason to, because the essay for McGonagall still wasn't due for another two days. It was just that Hermione usually had her assignments done at least a week in advance, Harry thought.
"I'm fine, Ron. I just- I've been working on projects outside of school, and I can't afford to let my course work slip. If I can't handle my schedule now, how am I supposed to cope when I add all of the electives that I want to take? I want to take all of them, Ron. And I'm falling behind already, just trying to balance some outside research.
"You're not falling behind, Hermione," Harry spoke up.
"Yeah. I'd bet no one else has even finished that essay yet," Ron reassured her.
Harry wisely didn't mention that he had finished the day before. He tried to put a little extra effort into his Head of House's class, almost as much as he did in Potions. He actually had a Defense essay due before then that he hadn't even started, but it was difficult to be motivated for that class.
"It doesn't matter what other people are doing. This is not how I'm supposed to work, rushing at the last minute to get work done. I've just had- a lot of other things on my mind."
"Hermione, it's not the last minute. And if you've got stuff on your mind, you should talk about it. We're here, you know. Or you can talk to a teacher if we can't help. I'm sure McGonagall would even give you an extension if you needed it, but you won't."
"Thank you," Hermione said quietly, turning back to her paper.
"Great. Now can I look at your Defense essay? I won't just copy it, I swear, but I can't read another word from that git today. What kind of person assigns seven books? And they aren't even text books."
"That's fine," Hermione said dismissively, handing her school bag to Ron without even a lecture.
*****Severus*****
A horcrux. Severus pushed the disgusting old tome that he had been reading away. At least he finally had a name for it. Severus didn't even think he had heard of the word before, and he had sunk into quite a lot of dark magic in his time. Never that far though. This involved not just killing someone, but using that death to split your soul and hide it in an object, binding yourself to this life by that object, so that the being couldn't truly die until the horcrux was destroyed. And the diary had acted like it had a large piece of his former master in it, albeit all teenage anger and bravado.
Everything fit. The teenage shade would be sure that his real self wasn't dead as long as the diary was intact. The book could have easily been made into a horcrux with the death of Myrtle Warren, perhaps Tom Riddle's first murder. And from the sound of it, Riddle had at least planned on making several more, something Severus was sure he had accomplished in the years since then. The man, if still Riddle could be called a man, had certainly killed enough people, done enough damage to his soul, relished in others killing as well. How much of a soul does a person need to still be a human?
Severus rubbed a hand over his eyes, feeling accomplished but overwhelmed. He'd need to tell Dumbledore, because he shouldn't do this alone. The thought occurred to him that he'd be telling Dora as well. She already knew that he was researching the diary. And- at some point he felt like he'd need to tell Harry. Keeping Harry sheltered hadn't worked in the past.
One conversation at a time, he thought, rising and walking to Dumbledore's office.
"Albus," Severus called, waltzing into the Headmaster's quarters uninvited. Good. The man was there and didn't have company.
"Ah, yes, Severus. You have some news on your research of Tom Riddle's diary then?"
Severus halted in whatever he was planning on saying, "And what brought you to that conclusion, Albus?" he asked, almost too tired to be curious about Albus's omniscient façade.
"You do not visit me often, Severus, unless it is at my direct request. And I do not think you are- forgive me for saying it, Severus- angered enough for the reason of your visit to be in some manner on Harry's behalf.
"The diary was a horcrux," Severus spat out. He watched Albus's eyes carefully. A slight raise in the eyebrow. Albus Dumbledore was surprised by life even less often than Severus was, but this was still… not as surprised at Severus had expected the man to be. Albus knew what the word meant, Severus thought. The headmaster simply looked... tired. Very well. It would save Severus explaining much further.
"I have reason to believe he made more than one as well," Severus carried on. "In my time in his service, he mentioned in vague terms the defenses he had made against death. Multiple defenses. The memory of Tom Riddle also alluded to that fact.
"Thank you for telling me, Severus. That is… troubling news indeed. May I ask for some time to consider this information? I believe I can procure some additional facts to help our search, if indeed there are more of these items to be found.
"Of course," Severus said, sweeping out of the room. He would need to make more plans of his own as well.
*****Severus*****
"You have something?" Severus asked tensely gripping the parchment from Albus that he had received earlier in the afternoon. Severus could only hope that it was productive news rather than an update on the vegetable students or an invitation for tea.
"I believe I have acquired a memory that will provide background on a possible horcrux. Two possible horcruxes, actually, but I have so far identified one likely location. Shall we take a look?" Albus offered, gesturing to the ornate pensieve in front of him, touching his wand to his temple.
Severus instead fetched a phial from his robes. He always had some, a habit from a potions master, and held the unstoppered phial out to receive the memory, "I have acquired a pensieve. I can examine it without taking up your time," Severus said. It was the diplomatic way of saying he didn't want to go into anyone's memory with the man at the moment.
"Of course, Severus. I imagine there are many things that you would like to do with your day. Say hello to young Harry for me the next time you see him. And, if I may make a brash, Gryffindor observation, Severus, pay particular attention to the locket and the ring. I believe one or both of them would have been likely marks for a younger Tom Riddle, perhaps created after the murder of his own father."
Severus had long since known that the Dark Lord killed his father. That he would make a horcrux from that death followed the man's gruesome logic, "Thank you," Severus said.
*****Severus*****
Damn old man. Severus should have known that something was strange when the old coot didn't even try to get him to stay and explore the memory with him. Unless the old man had spent a long time studying parseltongue which- wouldn't actually surprise Severus- neither of them would be able to discern the entire memory, but Albus could hope that Severus would have the means to do so. Harry.
The memory was of some Ministry official going to speak to some unpleasant people who spent half of the time talking in parseltongue. The early part of the memory was easy enough to understand. The Ministry man was unwelcome but entered anyway. He was there because the younger man had hexed a muggle.
It did not take brilliance or much foreknowledge to conclude that the family was related to the Dark Lord. Parseltongue was not a common ability, and it would have to be relevant if Albus gave it to him. The girl bearing Slytherin's necklace wasn't even needed, and Severus recognized why Albus would think it would become a horcrux.
The ring was also interesting. The elder man wore an ornate ring with geometric shapes on it, a triangle with a circle inside it, both bisected with a line. The sign of Grindelwald. It made a certain sense that the old man, grandfather of the most recent Dark Lord to terrorize the country would sympathize or follow the one whom had done so decades earlier. He had said that the ring had been in the family for generations, but perhaps the carving was a more recent addition? Severus would need to research that history more. Both piece of jewelry seemed likely horcruxes.
Even knowing who all the people in the memory would be, Severus's heart beat faster when some female voice from outside the house said, "Tom." It must have been Tom Riddle the elder passing by the house. Even if Severus couldn't understand the conversation that followed in the snake tongue, he would bet that the younger Gaunt had hexed Tom Sr., and he was somewhat surprised the muggle hadn't been dead at that moment.
Nothing else was discernable. There was the conversation between the family, ending with arguably the attempted murder of the poor daughter who would be the Dark Lord's mother, and the Ministry official objecting before the two men turned on him at which point he fled. It was all very… interesting.
Now, what should he do with this information? He could at least offer Harry the choice of viewing the memory. He already needed to explain at least the bare minimum about horcruxes to the boy, and shouldn't put it off longer. Of course, Albus had told him to say hello to Harry for him. The infuriating old professor was always a step ahead.
*****Harry*****
"Harry," his father addressed him uncertainly. Harry had had a feeling that something was coming more serious than biscuits, tea, and cocoa that his father had invited him for, and Harry was excited and nervous to hear it.
"Yes?" he responded.
"I wanted to speak with you in more detail about more recent discoveries that the Headmaster and I have made about the diary that affected Miss Weasley." Harry already knew that Voldemort, who was once named Tom Rddle, had made the diary when he was in school, and that it was making Ginny do all of those things that she didn't have any control over. Of course Ginny didn't have any control over it. Harry just nodded in response to what his father was saying.
His father continued, "It is something called a horcrux, and it is a very dark magic. I would like for you to keep this information between the two of us and the Headmaster for the time being, but we can revisit it at a later time. I do intend to tell- Miss Tonks as well." Harry nodded again. It was good that his dad had Tonks to talk to about stuff.
"A horcrux is- a protection against death, but it comes at far too great of a cost."
"Like drinking unicorn blood," Harry found himself saying.
"Yes, very similar to that in many ways. You- know more of dark magic and corruption than I would like a twelve-year-old to know," his father sighed.
"I can take it," Harry protested carefully.
"I do not even doubt that, Harry. I simply… wish that you had never been called to do so." His dad said words like that often to make Harry think.
"But… you're telling me now?"
"I do not think keeping you in the dark is likely to have positive outcomes, something I am slowly learning from the past. And I thought you might- be interested in a possible, safe way to help."
"What can I do?"
"We believe Riddle made more horcruxes, and the headmaster and I are tracking leads on them. The headmaster has acquired a memory that we could view in my pensieve that may give us more information, but some of the dialogue is in parseltongue." That didn't sound too hard, listening to something and translating it for his father.
"I warn you that it might be frightening. It is a memory involving… You-Know-Who's grandfather, uncle, and mother, but no one is seriously harmed in the memory."
"Okay, I'll listen," Harry said eagerly. Hs dad was putting faith in him to help out, so he'd definitely do it.
Harry listened as his father was explained the pensieve, which was one of the coolest magical objects he'd ever seen before. Minutes later, they were both leaning into the swirling liquid surface, and Harry found himself in a dark, unpleasant street in front of an even more unpleasant house. Harry tried to study the snake hung the door. It looked like it had been dead for a while- he hoped before it was nailed to the door. Surely if the people who lived there could talk to snakes then they'd be friends with them, right?
"He's speaking parseltongue!" Harry couldn't stop himself from bursting out when a man opened the door and started talking. Harry almost forgot that no one was really there except for his father, who was still right next to him.
"I told you he would be."
"But, he's not even talking to a snake," Harry said in wonder, making sure he was still paying attention to the memory around him. Harry had never heard another human speaking parseltongue, and when he spoke it himself, he couldn't even tell that he was doing it. But when the man was speaking it, Harry recognized it right away. It was different than when Salazar and Godric talked. It was even different than hearing the basilisk through the walls. It was as if he could hear the man speaking English, and the man hissing at the same time. Harry had only spoken the language himself to a snake, or at least to that carving of a snake. Maybe he'd have to practice later.
"What is he saying, Harry?" his father reminded him gently.
"Oh. He was just saying that the man wasn't welcome there," Harry translated. By now the older man was talking with the Ministry official, and they were speaking in English. "And now he told the younger one, Morfin, to get in the house and not argue," Harry explained. It was easier to discern the difference between speech with each word.
The two older men were talking about Morfin breaking the law with some muggles. Harry was pretty sure it wasn't just using spells around them either.
Soon though, Harry was only focused on Morfin as he spoke, almost a poem to a live adder. Harry recognized the poisonous snake, but the snake wasn't speaking back. Harry couldn't blame the poor snake. Harry felt sick, "Morfin said the snake would be good to him or he'd nail him to the door," Harry whispered. The snake that had been nailed to the door probably hadn't died naturally either. How could anyone be so cruel to something he could talk to?
"I'm sorry, Harry," his dad spoke, grip tight on his shoulder.
Harry tried to be distracted by a fourth person whom he hadn't even realized had been in the room. A woman. She had to be Voldemort's mother. She looked so… beaten down by life. She was trying to cook or something in the filth that served as a tiny kitchen. Merope. She had a name to him now too. And her father was very, very mean to her. Harry bet that he'd hit her or curse her as well as yell at her, if the Ministry man hadn't been around.
The ministry man, Mr. Ogden, was saying that Morfin would have to go to court for using magic around a muggle. And then Mr. Gaunt was showing him his ring, and dragging his daughter by the neck to show off her locket necklace, both just to show that they were an old purebood family. Except the old man didn't seem to care about his living family, or at least not his daughter.
Mr. Ogden finally said what Morfin had done, hexed a muggle to give him hives. Harry was actually surprised that it wasn't worse, but maybe Morfin wasn't very good at magic. The younger man laughed and his father hissed back at him. "He told him to be quiet," Harry filled in, remembering what he was there to do.
Everything in the room was disturbed when a muggle carriage drove by in earshot, complaining about the house and the family who lived there. Harry could tell that Morfin really didn't like those particular muggles. "His father told him to stay sitting," Harry relayed, though it hardly seemed necessary.
Harry quickly got caught up with the parseltongue conversation that followed, "Um, Morfin's taunting Merope saying that the muggle would never love her. And- and their dad is angry and asks Morfin more. Morfin said that she likes looking at the muggle. Her father asks if it's true. But Merope didn't say anything." That was pointless to mention, what the woman didn't say anything but… the man was so angry at her. She didn't say anything to defend herself or the muggle that she might like. Her father didn't even expect her to.
"Morfin hexed that muggle to give him hives so he'd be ugly," Harry whispered. Now the old man was physically attacking his daughter. "He called her a squib and a blood traitor, but we saw her do magic earlier, so she isn't a squib," Harry said quietly.
Then Mr. Ogden defended Merope, and Morfin attacked him, and he ran. Quickly, Harry found himself back in their quarters, surrounded by familiar stone and books.
"What happened to Merope?" Harry asked, trying to sound calm.
"I- do not know everything, Harry. The Headmaster would doubtless know more. I am- very sorry you saw all of that. It was- more upsetting than I had thought it would be seeing it alone," he apologized. Harry guessed his father was used to seeing stuff like that. "I do know that Merope was fine. And her brother and father both served time in Azkaban."
"She was Vo- was You-Know-Who's mother. Was that muggle, Tom, his father?" Harry asked, trying to piece everything together. That name fit, and Merope was… attached to him.
"That is right, Harry."
"How did- that happen?" Harry asked. The muggle didn't seem very likely to fall in love with Merope but… two people didn't always have to be in love to have a child. They didn't even have to get married first.
"Again, the Headmaster would know more, but I suspect magic was involved," his father said hesitantly. Harry nodded silently. He was curious, but he wasn't sure he wanted to know more.
"Those wouldn't be nice people to grow up with," he commented finally.
"Merope died sometime after giving birth. Her son grew up in an orphanage, probably better off than with her family." Harry nodded. He had often wondered if an orphanage would actually be worse than the Dursleys. And these people were worse than his aunt and uncle. Still, Harry didn't think that giving him more sympathy for the man who killed Harry's mother was what his father intended. He hoped that something he translated had at least been helpful. He was glad to know more, to not be in the dark about the horcruxes.
"So, you and the Headmaster are going to find and get rid of these horcruxes?" Harry asked casually.
"That is the basis of our plan, yes. We- have reason to believe that the necklace the girl is wearing, and the ring the older man was wearing may have been selected by- You-Know-Who."
"And will- these horcruxes have all sorts of dark magic around them like the diary that possessed Ginny?"
"I- have a theory that the earlier made horcruxes would have more of his- essence in them. I would not expect something quite so- strong in any but the first one made. But- there could be significant protections around the cursed objects, yes."
"I was scared that you were going to die," Harry admitted quietly. He was scared for so many selfish reasons that he didn't want to admit. He didn't want to lose him because Harry cared about his dad, but also because his dad cared about Harry. Being cared for was still pretty special to Harry- he guessed it was always supposed to be. Being cared for seemed pretty important to Ron too, and he'd had a lot more years of it. And- maybe Ron was right that he'd not go back to his aunt and uncle. His dad had told him that he'd never go back there but… what if his dad wasn't around to stop it?
"I know, Harry, and I'm so sorry for that. I don't want you to have to be afraid of that again. But, this is also something that really needs to be done, Harry." His dad hugged him slowly in a way that made Harry remember that he was pretty sure his dad didn't get many hugs when he was Harry's age. Harry held him back tighter.
"I know," Harry whispered finally. He didn't even ask why it had to be his dad to do it. It was just another part of his life. And his dad would be okay.
*****Severus*****
His couch was better when she was on it with him. Much better than the chair he used to spend his evenings in alone. She kept looking at him expectantly. Probably because he hadn't turned a page in a quarter of an hour. He had barely absorbed a word since she sat down, thigh brushing against his, long brown ponytail tickling his neck. Though she might have been interested in the somewhat gruesome defense text she had been reading over his shoulder, she would know by now that there was something on his mind that wasn't the book. She was being inordinately patient to let him get to it.
"You know I won't freak out with anything you say," she said slowly. That took longer than he expected, but he wasn't sure if he'd ever say anything if she didn't prompt him.
"Dora, if I were to- be unable to care for Harry any longer, I have it arranged that he would stay with the Weasleys until he reached majority," Severus said, throat dry. Those plans had officially been established an hour ago when he flooed over to the Weasley house unannounced, but they seemed to be flattered and not mind the intrusion. Harry would be looked after, "But I wondered if you would also… look out for him."
"Of course I would, Severus," she said, bringing up her arm and stroking her hand along his face. "Severus, what's going on?"
"I just- need to know that Harry will be properly looked after and- loved if something were to happen."
"Of course. I love Harry. I don't see how anyone who's gotten to know him could resist his little charm. Now tell me what's wrong, Severus. Is it worse than facing a basilisk? I feel like I haven't gotten the whole story there."
"The diary that caused the attacks at Hogwarts was a horcrux made by- Tom Riddle," Severus glanced over and checked for understanding and found none. "Made by You-Know-Who," Severus said feeling ridiculous but not wanting to call that man the Dark Lord anymore, as it held too much reverence.
She nodded slowly, "And a horcrux is?" she prompted again.
"A device fashioned by committing murder and splitting your very soul, placing it into an object," Dora looked appropriately queasy at the idea, but encouraged him to continue. "Until the horcrux, or as Albus and I believe in this case- multiple horcruxes- are destroyed, the creator will forever have a connection to this earth, keeping him in some way alive."
"And you and the Headmaster are working on destroying them all so that he can never come back," Dora surmised succinctly.
"Yes."
"Let me know how and when I can help," she said simply, staring him in the eye, raised brow almost challenging. He looked away first.
"I- thank you, Dora." That was not what he expected. He didn't want to put the young woman he cared for in danger any more than he would Harry. The knowledge that she was in auror training and he was undervaluing her abilities by attempting to shelter her was not lost on him.
"And when you go running off into danger without even telling me again, much less asking me to come along, I'll still forgive you, at least a few more times. But I don't need to be protected, Severus."
"I know," he said, lips twitching.
A/N: So… horcruxes are discovered, and Harry's still twelve. Please tell me what you think!
