Predictably, Hermione was furious.

"An Unbreakable Vow? With Malfoy? Are you mental? You could have been killed!" Harry was about to defend himself, but Hermione had turned to round on Ron.

"How could you let him do something like that, Ronald? I thought you had more sense!"

Ron's mouth opened and closed several times like a fish before he found his voice. "What are you blaming me for? It wasn't me on my knees holding hands with Malfoy. I tried to stop him!"

"Obviously you didn't try hard enough," huffed Hermione. "If it hadn't been for the . . . the . . ." She turned to Harry, a confused look on her face. "What did stop you?"

"The Horcrux," said Harry heavily. "It didn't seem to like the idea of me making an Unbreakable Vow any more than you do."

"Hmmm. Interesting." Hermione looked pensive for a moment. "I'll have to . . . right." She shook herself out of whatever she'd been considering and turned back to Ron. "But that doesn't let you off the hook! You're supposed to be helping him, not throwing him to the Slytherins! Or did you forget that most of their parents are Death Eaters?"

It didn't look like she was going to be done yelling any time soon. Oddly, Ron didn't seem too upset about it either. He just kept alternately apologizing and trying to fight back, a strange half smile on his face.

Harry looked hesitantly at Ginny, who had been sitting quietly next to him in the Common Room while Hermione raged. "Are you going to yell too?"

Ginny smiled. "I think Hermione is doing just fine. Try to pay attention to her every couple of minutes and we'll call it even."

Harry grinned at her and squeezed her hand. "Thanks."

Ginny grinned back, then grimaced. "Not that I think making an Unbreakable Vow with Malfoy is a good idea, understand. And with my brother as bonder?" She raised her eyebrows. "Still," she admitted. "It sounds like you were really close to finding out what Malfoy was up to."

Neville frowned. He'd been watching the interplay between Ron and Hermione with wide eyes, but now he turned his attention back to Harry and Ginny. "I've been wondering about that," he began slowly. "Doesn't it strike you as . . . weird, that he would be so willing to tell you what he was doing?"

Harry sat up. Neville usually didn't volunteer his ideas. He was supremely loyal and always eager to stand by and help however he could, but generally left the planning and theorizing up to the others. But Neville had also been on the receiving end of much of Malfoy's cruelty and Harry knew he trusted the Slytherin even less than Harry or Ron did.

"What do you mean, Neville?" Harry asked.

"Well . . . remember first year, when he tricked you and Ron into sneaking out at night for a duel?"

Next to Harry, Ron grimaced. All these years later, it still irked him to have fallen for such a scheme. Neville continued.

"You thought he was trying to pick a fight, but actually, he just wanted to get you both in trouble. And then, later that year, he lured me out after curfew with that story about the dragon."

"But that one was true," Hermione interrupted. "There was a dragon."

"Yeah," agreed Neville, "but Malfoy didn't tell me the story simply because he thought I would be interested. His real purpose was something else – to get all of us in trouble again."

"So, what are you saying?" asked Harry. "You think Malfoy wanted to make an Unbreakable Vow to get me in some sort of trouble?"

Next to him, Ginny snorted. "I'm sure he wanted to get you in trouble," she said. "But I think I understand what Neville's saying. I'll bet he never intended to just let you find out what he was doing in the Room, he must have had some other motive."

"But he was going to make a Vow," said Ron. "He would have died if he didn't fulfill it."

"Maybe he knew there was nothing that important in the Room for Harry to see," said Hermione, thinking hard. "Maybe . . . he's working on something in there, but he was counting on the fact that it wouldn't make sense to Harry if he did see it." She frowned. "Or maybe it's something else. Because Ron's right. He was taking a huge risk, making that Vow. He must be really desperate for some reason."

It didn't escape Harry's notice that Ron blushed and sat up straighter when Hermione agreed with his theory. Ginny hadn't missed the interplay either, and Harry heard her quietly giggle next to him. He put his arm around her and squeezed. "I wish they would just snog already," he whispered to her.

"Seriously," she replied under her breath.

"What are you two talking about?" asked Ron, suddenly suspicious.

"Just wondering what Luna would say about all this," replied Harry innocently. "I bet she'll have lots of theories about what Malfoy is up to."

"Most of them having to do with mythical creatures no one has ever seen before, I bet," said Hermione dryly.

Albus Dumbledore flicked his wand and six comfortable chairs appeared in a semi-circle in front of him. He moved the Pensieve to the center of his desk and pulled two small bottles out of a cabinet. All the time, his mind was whirling in thought. Harry had asked him . . . no, actually, Harry had informed him, that he was bringing his closest friends to this meeting. Something had changed. Maybe, many things had changed.

Obviously, Harry had been successful in reconnecting with his friends. In the scheme of things, that was probably going to be the easiest part, Dumbledore reflected. It was quite The question was, had Harry realized exactly what had been hurting all of them in the first place? Would Harry have connected the evil feelings inside him to a bit of Voldemort's soul? Dumbledore wasn't sure; it had taken several days of introspection to be sure himself, and this was with him knowing that Harry was a Horcrux. But even with his knowledge of how the soul-bit in the diary had taken on a life of its own, Harry's situation perplexed him. Maybe it was because Harry was also a living being, or maybe it was because the Horcrux inside him had to constantly battle with Harry's own good, pure soul, but Dumbledore could not have conceived of such evil, until he saw it with his own eyes.

He wasn't entirely certain how much Harry had absorbed of their discussions about Horcruxes, and the Headmaster was prepared to repeat himself if necessary. He knew he would have to share his knowledge with Harry's friends too, if Harry had not already done so. But could he sit here, now, and calmly tell Harry that he had no choice but to die? Professor Dumbledore was not nearly as certain.

Taking his friends with him to see Dumbledore certainly made for a noisier meeting, Harry reflected as he watched them all in the Headmaster's office. He was glad he had thought to tell them not to bring up the Horcruxes until Dumbledore did; Hermione looked ready to start peppering the Headmaster with questions the second they all got off the moving staircase, and Ron, he knew, wanted to yell at the man for what he saw as an attempt to hide things from Harry.

The two boys had talked about it earlier.

"But wouldn't it have made more sense to tell you as soon as he knew?" Ron protested. "You could have fought back much earlier and avoided all this mess."

"I think he wanted to protect me," Harry had said. "And, knowing everything I do now, I can't exactly blame him. I mean, would I really have wanted to know about the prophecy earlier? This way I had almost five years being able to enjoy myself at school."

Ron had let it drop then, but Harry knew he didn't exactly agree. He was just glad Ron was controlling his urge to yell.

Harry himself kept tight hold of Ginny's hand. Even though he understood more why being around Dumbledore created so many uncomfortable feelings inside him, it was not at all pleasant to think that the Horcrux was both cowering from the only one Voldemort had ever feared, and yet, still trying to hurt Harry. Harry started getting a headache almost the moment they arrived; he tried not to look at Dumbledore's withered hand or the cracked black ring, but he couldn't keep the dizzy feeling completely at bay.

Dumbledore motioned for everyone to sit down. He himself took a seat at his desk and looked gravely at the students from behind his half-moon spectacles. No one spoke.

Harry felt like he should be the one to say something. He was the one who'd insisted that everyone come with him, after all. But he wasn't sure what to say. Just blurting it out – "Hey! I'm a Horcrux, did you know that?" – seemed kind of wrong. Besides, he was almost positive Dumbledore already knew.

But the silence was stretching and everyone was beginning to look at him expectantly.

"Well . . . ummm . . . yeah," he began, completely ineffectual. He addressed himself straight to Dumbledore. "I told them everything," he finally said.

Dumbledore raised his eyebrows. "And what exactly is everything?"

Harry suddenly felt impatient. "Look, I know, okay? I know that I'm a . . . a Horcrux." He watched Dumbledore's face carefully for a reaction. The barest tightening of his lips was the only outward sign that he'd heard Harry's words. But he didn't disagree.

If Harry had harbored even the smallest hope that he had somehow been wrong, it was gone as soon as he saw Dumbledore's face. He sagged in his seat, feeling Ginny's hand tighten in his. "And I don't blame you for not telling me."

The Headmaster's smile was sad. "Thank you, Harry," he said quietly. "I . . . I wanted to tell you. You deserve to know, of course, but at the same time . . . your ignorance might have allowed you a few more years of bliss." The man sighed. "Unfortunately, it seems that bit of Riddle has other plans.

Hermione spoke up then. "Sir . . . Professor," she began hesitantly. "Can you tell us, if you know, how Harry became a Horcrux? Because I've been reading about them, and I thought the wizard making one had to set certain spells and things first, and have a very strong intent. How could he make one in Harry . . . accidentally?"

Dumbledore peered at her, his eyes twinkling a little more brightly. "I had all the books about Horcrux creation removed from this school's library years ago," he said. "It doesn't surprise me that you were able to find a way around my protections, I suppose." He smiled at Hermione.

"You are right, of course. Voldemort did have the specific intent to make a Horcrux the night he tried to kill Harry. He planned to use Harry's death as the motivator; what object he intended to use, I've never discovered for certain. What he didn't anticipate, as we know, was that he would not be able to kill Harry night. However, his soul, already ripped apart so many times, was terribly unstable. When his curse rebounded, it tore off yet another piece, and that piece embedded itself in Harry, with the only outward sign being his scar."

Harry tuned out. Maybe it was a result of hearing it all set out like that, but his scar was throbbing in his head and he was dizzy. He swallowed hard, and suddenly, Ginny's breath was in his ear.

"Harry? Are you okay? You look pale."

Harry squeezed her hand in what he hoped was a reassuring manor and whispered back. "I'll be fine. It's just . . . being in here, it makes the Horcrux more active. I always feel kind of sick in Dumbledore's office."

She didn't ask him again, but Harry caught Ginny giving him concerned glances out of the corner of her eye while Dumbledore caught the others up on his theories about what objects Voldemort had used for his Horcruxes, and where they might be hidden.

Harry closed his eyes. The longer he listened, the more difficult it was to focus on anything except the pounding in his head. He really did not want to get sick here, again. Tuning out the voices helped a bit, and he tried not to listen and Hermione pestered the Headmaster yet again on why Voldemort might had hidden a bit of his soul in his snake, and Luna and Neville disagreed with each other about whether a Horcrux could have been hidden in one of the rare Vault plants in Greenhouse Five, since no one could figure out how to get them to open their pods.

Finally, Dumbledore lifted his hands for quiet.

"I originally asked Harry here to view another memory," he said. "One showing what I suspect to be another of the objects Tom Riddle stole to turn into a Horcrux." The Headmaster's voice turned grave.

"I don't think I need to impress upon you the importance of keeping secret everything Harry has already shared with you and everything you're learning here tonight. This information, if it falls into the wrong hands, could have catastrophic consequences."

Everyone nodded solemnly. Dumbledore continued. "I trust each and every one of you – you have more than proven that you have the right to this knowledge by your actions last June at the Ministry and by the very fact that the Horcrux itself has identified you as those individuals closest to Harry." Each of his friends smiled at this thought; Neville looked both embarrassed and delighted at being named as one of Harry's closest companions.

"But I no longer leave anything to chance," continued Dumbledore. "Which is why I must ask each of you to enter into a binding magical contract swearing yourselves to secrecy in the matters related to the Horcrux. You will be able to share your knowledge with no one other than myself or each other until such time as I lift the charm." His eyes suddenly twinkled merrily.

"Don't look so serious, now! You all signed something similar last year when you joined Dumbledore's Army, and none of you seem to have a pimple in sight. This isn't an Unbreakable Vow or anything."

"Good thing there," muttered Ron. "Harry already almost did one of those with Malfoy,"

All hell pretty much broke loose after that. Dumbledore stood up so quickly that Harry thought Death Eaters must have burst in behind them; he hadn't seen such a look on the Headmaster's face since he had fought Voldemort in the Ministry of Magic.

"What was the promise?" he asked sharply. When no one answered, he turned to Harry. "What did you and Draco say to each other? Tell me exactly."

As soon as the Headmaster spoke, the headache that had been spinning on the edges of Harry's brain broke through with such ferocity that he saw spots. He was barely aware of the groan that escaped his lips or that he suddenly lurched forward to put his head in his hands.

"Harry, what is it?" Ginny's voice was low in his ear. Harry couldn't answer. He was only vaguely aware of Dumbledore's voice, and the sudden silver blur that shot by the side of his face only made him more dizzy. He closed his eyes and wished it would all go away.

"Hold on, Harry, we're taking you to the Hospital Wing." Ginny's voice was back.

There was a roaring in his head and tightness in his throat that felt nothing like the pain from Voldemort or the Horcrux; no memories or flashbacks or voices interrupted the dizziness and dull ache that made him feel like he suddenly weighed a thousand pounds. He opened his mouth to try to respond to Ginny, but he could barely make his lips move enough to form a sound.

"K," he finally mumbled. Dimly, he was aware of being lifted into the air, of floating, and of questioning voices below him. Nothing made sense, and as he floated further, everything around him slowly faded away to blackness.

Madame Pomfrey huffed again as she waved her wand in a complex pattern over Harry, but Ginny did nothing more than shift to one side so that she didn't interrupt the charm – just as she had done the last two times the Matron had performed the spell. Earlier, she had thrown a fit worthy of her mother when the Healer had tried to get her to leave Harry's side. She wouldn't have left anyway, but Dumbledore's agreement that she should stay sealed her position, and so she was still here, three hours later, waiting for him to wake up.

The rest of the group had finally left with the Headmaster after telling him everything they knew about the almost-Vow between Harry and Malfoy. Ginny glanced over at the far end of the ward. Draco was now laying prone in a bed himself, subject to the same charms Madame Pomfrey was performing every hour on Harry. But he should be waking up soon, Ginny gathered. The absence of a Horcrux inside him meant that the magical residue from the aborted Vow was not nearly as damaging to him.

Ginny shivered, trying not to think of the first minutes after their arrival in the Hospital Wing. Harry had been nearly unconscious at that point. Dumbledore had been firing questions at all of them as they transported Harry in a conjured stretcher – Ron was really the only one who could answer most of them – and even he wasn't sure what had happened to stop Harry and Malfory from completing the bonding. The Headmaster had spoken briefly to Madame Pomfrey and then waved his wand at her several times until she nodded and began working over Harry. Then he had turned to the rest of them.

"Unbreakable Vows are dangerous magic, even when performed by two fully willing and competent adult wizards," he said, no hint of a smile on his face. "Even though they are not of age, Harry and Draco obviously both have enough magic for the Vow to have begun to attach to them. One cannot simply stop a Vow in the middle without their being physical consequences. Mr. Malfoy will be arriving shortly so that Madame Pomfrey can remove any lingering traces on him as well.

"Is Draco unconscious now, too?" Luna had asked.

"No. The affects on Draco will likely be much less severe." He turned back to Ron. "You're certain that the only thing Malfoy promised out loud was to let Harry into the Room of Requirement to see what he was doing there?"

"That's all," agreed Ron. "And Harry agreed not to tell any adult what he saw, and to give Malfoy the bottle of Felix Felicis he'd won from Professor Slughorn."

At this point, Ginny had been unable to keep quiet. Harry was too still and pale; he barely seemed to be breathing. She'd been holding his hand, kneading it between her fingers, trying to get him to show some life. So far, nothing had worked.

"But is he going to be okay?"

Dumbledore looked grave. "I certainly hope so." He paused, looking over to where Madame Pomfrey was, across the room. He dropped his voice. "But Harry's unique, situation makes things more difficult. I don't believe Mr. Malfoy was being completely honest with you when he made his Vow. I am quite sure he truly wanted that bottle of Felix, but I don't think that was all. He must have had another purpose, a more dangerous purpose, for Harry."

"Just like you thought, Neville." Ginny had remembered the other boy's suspicion that Draco had another reason for trying to get Harry into the Room.

"And the Horcrux felt it, and tried to fight to protect itself," finished Hermione.

"Correct," Dumbledore had said gravely. "Had the Vow been completed, it would have created obligations and conditions in Harry and Malfoy. And Harry's reaction indicates that those obligations likely would have put the Horcrux – and Harry, for that matter, at risk of destruction. It fought back. First, by making it impossible for the boys to complete the Vow, and again, by fighting against the bits of residual magic left over after the attempt." He sighed. "When I asked Harry to tell me everything that he had said to Draco, I triggered that magic – because part of the Vow was not to tell any adults what he knew. We're lucky the two of them only completed the first bond. If they had finished two out of three, the results would have been even worse.

Soon afterwards, Draco had arrived with Professor Snape . The boy's look of confusion at being summoned changed to fear, barely masked by derision when he had taken in the sight of the other students, still gathered around Harry's bed. But the Headmaster had acted rapidly, placing him under a spell and laying him, apparently sleeping, in a bed, before he could say a word. Dumbledore had spoken quietly to Snape; the other man had looked frustrated and shook his head before he'd swept out of the room without sparing a single glance across the ward.

Then Ginny had fought with Madame Pomfrey over leaving, and Dumbledore had allowed her to stay. Before he left, the Headmaster had warned her that the Matron did not know the full extent of Harry's situation; he'd placed a Confundus charm to allow her to treat him fully without understanding exactly what was going on. If Harry's situation deteriorated, Ginny was to contact him immediately.

And now, here she was, still sitting. Madame Pomfrey was working over Draco; he seemed to be waking. Ginny watched as the Matron nodded to herself and then threw a bit of floo powder into the fire.

"Severus!"

Professor Snape's head appeared in the flames. "What is it, Poppy?" Is he awake?"

"Just about. I suppose you can come talk to him now," she replied.

Quickly, Ginny dug into the pocket of her robes. Not for nothing was she Fred and George's little sister. There were a number of items she had on her person at all times, just . . . in case. This was definitely one of those times, and it took her only seconds to unroll an Extendable Ear and send it snaking across the floor of the ward, against the wall, until it stopped under Malfoy's bed. Quickly, she pulled one of the room dividers around Harry's bed and the chair where she was sitting and then sat down, putting the end of the flesh-colored string into her ear.

Draco groaned and slowly opened his eyes. He felt like he'd been hit over the head with a Bludger and he had no idea what he was doing in the Hospital Wing. He vaguely remembered walking that way with Professor Snape, and being annoyed that the man seemed furious with him, yet wouldn't tell him why. Then everything got fuzzy.

Snape had been bothering him all year, trying to get Draco to tell him more about his project for the Dark Lord. Acting as if he knew everything already, as if really wanted to help, instead of merely taking over and stealing all the glory. It was taking all of Draco's concentration to keep up his Occlumency shields so that Snape couldn't get into his thoughts. The Potions master didn't need to know that Draco himself was only vaguely aware of Voldemort's ultimate goal; he had his orders and he was going to follow them, no matter what. A Malfoy had always been one of the Dark Lord's closest confidants, and that was not about to change now.

Still, he couldn't always keep hidden the creeping worry that everything was not going the way it needed to. His master had not given him a deadline for completing the tasks, but Draco knew he would not be patient. And it was no use pretending to the Dark Lord that he'd made much progress at all; other than his early meeting with Borgin, Draco had not been able to accomplish anything in pursuit of either of his goals. He could only hope that Lord Voldemort did not decide to check on his progress personally; the thought of having to account for his failure made Draco physically sick.

And what was worse, for a brief moment, he'd gotten so close to success. When Potter had agreed to the Unbreakable Vow and given Draco his hands, it had taken all his control not to sneer in his face at the other boy's stupidity. He had been only minutes away from being able to deliver on both of his assignments. The so-called "Chosen One" would be no more and neither would that wreck of a man he looked to as mentor. But it had all fallen apart and Draco had no idea why. He only knew that the scared, sick feeling he had harbored in the pit of his stomach ever since he'd stood before his master and taken the Mark had gotten only worse in the past days.

The fear he couldn't reveal to anyone was threatening to overtake him, and Malfoy fought to push it to the back of his brain. For a distraction, he turned over in the hospital bed and looked down the ward. All the other beds were empty, although the one against the farthest wall was surrounded by a screen. He thought he should remember who was behind it, but his mind wouldn't let him focus. He was about to call for Madame Pomfrey when the door to the ward open and Professor Snape swept in.

At once, the fear he'd been trying to suppress threatened to overtake Draco once again. What if he'd been brought here so that Snape could find a way into his thoughts, to discover just what the Dark Lord had planned? Draco bit down on his lip to keep it from trembling. If Snape knew everything . . . and if he knew that Draco was failing . . . He swallowed hard and only just managed to arrange his features into a bored expression before Snape was at his bedside.

"I see you are finally awake." The Potions master was direct and unfriendly.

"Are you going to tell me why I was asleep in the first place?" Draco assumed Snape would refuse to explain, and so was unprepared for the man's dark scowl and harsh words.

"Because you were an idiot, Draco. Your incautiousness and stupidity almost ruined everything."

Draco looked up at the man. "What stupidity? I haven't done anything."

"Except attempt an Unbreakable Vow with Potter!" Snape hissed back. "You may have refused to tell me anything in my office but did you really think you could keep that little detail a secret forever?"

Draco blanched. Snape had read his thoughts. Had he told the Dark Lord that Draco was failing? He couldn't keep the tremor out of his voice when he answered.

"That's n-none of your business." He wanted to say more, to remind Snape that he had no right to interfere with Draco's task for Voldemort, but he couldn't make his lips form the words. The fear that had been pooling in his belly for months began growing limbs, branching out through Draco's body. He began to shake, and quickly drew his knees up in the bed, wrapped his arms around them to still the trembling. Snape ignored him.

"It is my business, when you offer to tell Potter everything, to reveal all our secrets! Do you really think he wouldn't have been able to get around the promise not to tell anything to an adult wizard?"

His disdain made Draco angry, and it allowed him to gain a small measure of control. "I'd thought of that!" he spat back. "And if we'd completed the Vow, Potter's promises wouldn't have mattered anyway. Once I'd gotten him into the Room of Requirement, he wouldn't have . . ." Draco broke off, realizing he'd been about to say too much.

But Snape apparently knew exactly what he'd been about to say. "If you believed that would work, you are more thoughtless than I could imagined. Don't you understand that Potter cannot be touched until . . . afterwards? What were you thinking, Draco?"

"It would have worked!" Draco yelled back, more forcefully than he intended. The fear and despair were taking over. The Vow had been his best chance to fix everything at once, to rise to the top of all of the Dark Lord's followers, to restore the Malfoy name to one of trust and confidence. And now it was gone. "Getting Potter into the Room, getting the Felix, it was all connected to . . . to . . . everything," he finished lamely. "It would have all been finished that night. I'm sure of it."

"Your arrogance and refusal to accept help will be your downfall, Draco," Snape finally said. He turned, preparing to leave. "Fulfilling the Dark Lord's plan is more important than individual glory. If you continue to block me, he will know. And you will fail."

With that, the Potions master left the room without a backwards glance.

Draco's bravado vanished. He collapsed back onto the bed and buried his face in the pillows.

Across the room, Ginny heard the beginning of muffled sobs before she slowly began pulling the Extendable Ear back towards her. Her face was a frozen mask, processing the conversation she had overheard. Even though Draco had refused to reveal anything of his plan, one thing was clear: it included doing something terrible to Harry.