A Need For Memories

by aviendha15

This story is shared with SailorMartin3 with express consent.

25. Horcruxes

Part 25

"Snape?" Harry exclaimed, whirling around to face Hermione. "Why, on earth, do we need to involve him in this conversation? I mean, Sirius might just kill him or something!"

"But we will be there…"Hermione trailed off, looking uncertain.

Harry sighed deeply and looked over at the teenaged Snape who was having a light-hearted conversation with his mother. The smile on his face was one of the very few that Harry has ever seen. And that smile did not diminish even when James joined the little group. It truly seemed that the relationships were already changing…for the better. But Harry was not very sure that it would remain that way.

"No, Mione," he replied, turning back to his friend. "I think we should talk to just Sirius for the time being… Maybe later…"

You have to forgive him, Harry," said Hermione abruptly, piercing Harry with a pleading look. "He saved you life."

"And made it hell too," Harry pointed out. He rubbed his hands on his face wearily. Hermione had hit the nail right on the head. In spite of Snape's many favors; Harry was still unable to forgive him totally. "I owe him my life, Hermione. I am grateful to him for saving me and helping me, so many times. But, I just can't forgive him for causing the deaths of my parents."

"It was just a mistake…"

"I know that!" Harry snapped, interrupting Hermione. "And I am not going to go around blaming him either. Not in front of all of them." Harry waved a hand to indicate the people in the room. "But, I can't forgive him. Not for that!"

"He suffered for his whole life because of that," Hermione murmured, her

eyes shining suspiciously. "He worked relentlessly towards protecting you.

His one mistake ruined his entire life, Harry. How can you not forgive him?"

"I don't know…" Harry mumbled back.

"OI! You two coming in or what?" Ron called out from the room. "Why are you skulking out there?"

Hermione shot a glare at Ron. "Idiot," she murmured. "So, what do we do about Severus?" she asked Harry.

Harry shut his eyes briefly, thinking hard. "Not now," he finally replied. "For the moment let's just have this talk with Sirius. I don't think that the prophecy would be mentioned before 2-3 chapters. If we want to we can have a talk with Severus sometime in between. For the moment, I think we should talk to Sirius alone."

"Alright," said Hermione, giving in. She could see that Harry was almost totally against talking to Sirius and Severus together. And maybe he was right in doing so.

"Sorry, Mione," apologized Harry taking in the pensive look on Hermione's face as her disappointment. "I promise that I will try and talk to Severus too."

I am not disappointed or anything," Hermione protested. "You are probably right. It would be difficult enough to talk to Sirius without throwing Severus in too. Better to get this one talk over with."

"You got a point!" said Harry chuckling. "Or Sirius and Ron might just get impatient and leave. And once they get to the food, it would be almost impossible to get them away from it."

Hermione laughed aloud and followed him to the room that the Room of Requirements had provided for them to hold their 'talk'.

"There you are!" Ron said, as soon as the stepped into the room. "The two of you finally managed to travel such a great distance! I was thinking that you will never get here."

Harry grinned at his friend though Hermione directed another glare at him. But she had to laugh on seeing Sirius, who had managed to salvage a bowl of cookies from the kitchen and was busy stuffing his face.

"I was hungry," he said defensively noting Hermione's laugh. "And you two were taking ages!"

"Sorry," said Harry, pulling a chair and settling down in front of his Godfather. Hermione and Ron settled down beside Sirius on the couch, and Ron promptly helped himself to some cookies.

"We need some help from you, Sirius," said Harry, broaching the subject directly. He knew that the others will soon wonder about their whereabouts, they cannot waste too much time.

"Want to play a prank on your Father?" Sirius questioned, looking excited. "That would be superb."

Harry chuckled and shook his head. "Not really," he answered. "This is of a serious nature."

"Nature can't be serious," Sirius said, his eyes twinkling with merriment. "That's me!"

"Shut up, Padfoot!" Hermione said in an annoyed voice, though she could not keep the grin off her face. "What we want to talk to you about is not really a laughing matter."

Their somber moods beneath the façade of laughter finally seemed to penetrate Sirius's conscience and he settled back on his seat with a serious face. "What is it about, Harry?" he asked his Godson concernedly.

Harry exchanged a quick look with his friends. "It is about the prophecy," he finally said.

Sirius frowned. "That prophecy about you and Voldemort?" he said. "The one that states you will have the power to kill Voldemort?"

"The same," Hermione confirmed. "And...Umm…Didn't you guys wonder how Voldemort came to know about the Prophecy?"

Talk about beating around the bush! Harry glared at Hermione, who gave him an apologetic look.

"Ya…We did," Sirius replied, looking at one worried face to another in some perplexity. "At least, Moony did. It has to be of the Death Eaters, obviously….Oh No!" Comprehension seemed to be drawing on his face, and

was instantly replaced by a look of horror. "Please please don't tell me that it was Pete…Pettigrew. James would be devastated!"

Harry cocked an eyebrow at his Godfather and chuckled half-heartedly. "No, I can very safely say that it wasn't Pettigrew," he replied. Sirius' face relaxed visibly, and he let out the breath that he was holding.

"That's good!" he muttered. "But, then who?" he asked raising his eyes to meet Harry's.

Harry looked at his friends helplessly. The truth be said, he did not know the best way to break this news to his Godfather. And now, he was regretting the decision to have this ridiculous conversation in the first place.

"It was Severus Snape!" Harry was startled out of his musings by Ron's voice; who then conveniently ignored the shocked-cum-horror filled glare that Harry sent in his direction. Ron knew very well that Sirius reaction won't change even if they took ages to get around to the fact. At least an abrupt answer helps to save time.

"WH…What?" Sirius spluttered. "You are kidding! Isn't he, Harry?"

"You really think that Severus Snape cannot do anything like that?" Harry counter-questioned, sounding a little amazed. After all, this was the last reaction that he had expected from Sirius.

"I would have," replied Sirius, still grinning widely. He, very obviously, thought that Ron was joking. "I would have easily believed it, had your mother been any one other that Lily Evans. And, as much as I hate to agree; Severus Snape may be a greasy git and a god-forsaken Death Eater, but he will never do anything to hurt Lily Evans."

Harry smiled sadly at his Godfather. "But he did!" he murmured. "Severus Snape was indeed the one who had conveyed the Prophecy to Voldemort. And this is no joke, Padfoot. I totally, completely, wholly mean it."

Harry had never seen so many emotions flirting on anyone's face in such a short while. Sirius's face was portraying a mixture of grief, guilt, horror, sadness and a myriad other emotions. Harry was reminding abruptly of something that Ron had said in their Fifth year; about a person bursting under the weight of too many emotions. Even though Ron had said it as a jest, Harry could literally see Sirius facing the same predication.

And Sirius did look close to bursting, though it was with anger. "I AM GOING TO KILL THAT BLOODY B-" Sirius cried out abruptly and lunged for the closed door.

Both Harry and Ron had to grab hold of his arms to stop him while Hermione locked the door with the strongest locking spells that she knew of. And she also summoned Sirius' wand to her as an extra precaution.

"Just calm down for a moment, Sirius," Harry huffed, trying to stop Sirius from breaking open the door.

"And why the hell should I calm down?" Sirius snapped, wrenching his hands free and shooting a murderous glare at Hermione, who held on to his wand tightly, as if she was afraid that he would try to snatch it back. "That man is the reason you have lost your parents, Harry!" He shifted his glare at his Godson. "Do you even realize that?"

Both Ron and Hermione gasped out loud! It was a really low blow, and Harry though so too because all it took for him was a moment to start yelling too.

"Of course I do!" he bellowed. "I am on orphan, aren't I? Of course, I realize that I have no parents. I was brought up by people who hated me, Sirius. I felt their absence every bloody day." Harry's voice cracked ominously, and he turned his face away trying to get his emotions in control.

"Harry?" Sirius murmured concernedly placing a hand on his Godson's shaking shoulders. He seemed to have got his emotions under control. "I am sorry," he said forcing Harry to turn around and pulling him into a hug. "I did not mean to hurt you. I am very sorry."

"S okay," Harry mumbled, pulling back from the hug and smiling awkwardly. He directed a hesitant grin at his friends too. The last thing he needed now was for Hermione to try and hug him or something. Sirius' hug had raised too many old, painful memories. And even after all these years, he still missed his crazy Godfather. "I didn't mean to lose my temper, either. I am sorry too. It was natural for you to be shocked and all…"

"Cut it out, Harry!" Sirius interrupted. "It wasn't your fault. But, tell me something, why on earth are you supporting Severus Snape? He betrayed his best friend! If it were not for him, Voldemort might not have ever pursued you."

Harry nodded resignedly. "You are right, Sirius," he said. "Severus did betray his friend. But, unlike Pettigrew, he did unknowingly."

"What?" Sirius exclaimed. "What do you mean by that?"

"I…I think it is better if we all sit down," put in Ron, rubbing his wrist that had twisted when Sirius had wrenched free his hand. "It might take a while."

"Ya…I guess," said Sirius, dropping down on the couch again. But, this time Hermione pulled Harry to sit next to them; giving him a quick hug in the process. "I am sorry about your hand," Sirius added, indicating Ron's wrist which had swelled a little. Ron waved aside his apology, promptly wincing as he used his injured hand to do so. This caused the others to break out into amused chuckles slightly lessening the tension that had formed in the room.

Harry looked at his Godfather straight in the eye. "Just…Just hear me out, Sirius, before you form any mind-set about Severus Snape." At Sirius's slightly hesitant nod he continued, "As you know, Trelawney had made the prophecy at Hog's Head. This Prophecy was indeed over-heard by Severus. But, he did not hear the entire prophecy, as he was intercepted by Dumbledore mid-way through it. And, he did go and relay this prophecy to Voldemort."

"But then…"

"Let me finish, Sirius," said Harry, stalling the interruption. "Snape didn't know nor did he realize that, this prophecy was about the son of Lily Evans Potter. It was entirely Voldemort's deduction. And Severus came to know this after the Prophecy was already relayed by him. After the damage was already done."

"I get it," Sirius said, after a moment of silence. "Snape did not know that the prophecy was about Harry Potter, the son of Lily Evans Potter. But Harry, does it lessen his offense in any way? He knew that he was sending a new-born baby to his death by conveying the Prophecy to Voldemort."

"I am not saying that he was blameless," said Harry, trying to be patient. "I am just telling that he…he made a mistake!"

"A mistake?" exclaimed Sirius. "When your actions cause someone's death, we don't…can't call it an accident, Harry!"

"But he regretted it, Sirius," Hermione interrupted. "He regretted it every single day of his life. And he tried to help Lily. He let Professor Dumbledore know about Voldemort's plans and begged him to keep the Potter family hidden. He owned up to his mistakes, and he also turned spy for the order. He was so disgusted with what his actions did cost."

"So he is a spy…"Sirius murmured to himself.

Harry gave another hesitant nod. "I can't really tell you much. You will get to know as you read the books…But, did you…umm…wonder why we wanted to speak to you about all this?"

"I did," said Sirius furrowing up his eyebrows. "And I am still not sure what sort of a help you needed from me…Other than killing Snape, obviously."

Harry managed an amused chuckle. "I thought that you are the only one who would understand Severus's situation," he said, a little tentatively.

"What?" Sirius exclaimed yet again, raising his eyes heavenward. "You are really talking about me? You really thought that Sirius Black would understand Severus Snape's position."

"You are only one who knows who it is to commit a mistake," Ron said softly. "You will understand what it is to commit a mistake."

"Oh!" Sirius murmured, all traces of humor disappearing from his face. "So, you know about that? I thought that you might…"

"Ya, we do," confirmed Harry. "And you are the one who told us about it. Back in our third year. Well, you and Professor Lupin…Remus."

Sirius' lips quirked into a smile at the 'Professor Lupin' bit, though he was still looking tensed. "I…I did commit a mistake…a huge one, in fact. But, it didn't really harm anyone, did it? At least physically." He added this as an afterthought.

"But it could have…" Harry pointed out gently. "Don't you think that you were just…just luckier?"

"I was," said Sirius sighing deeply. He hung his head slightly. "If things had gone wrong, Remus could have been sentenced and James and Snape killed or turned into Werewolves. And it all would have been my fault. All for the sake of a stupid prank."

Harry placed a comforting hand on his Godfather's shoulder. "I am sorry, Sirius. We didn't really wish to bring that up. But…we had to. You are the only one who can remotely relate himself to Severus's situation. And he will definitely need it when the entire thing comes out."

"Yes, I can relate to him pretty well," muttered Sirius. "I was just very lucky to have escaped his fate. I just wish that part of my good luck extended to getting McGonagall off our trails." A hint of humor had returned to his face and voice. "She catches us almost every single time."

"Evading her is almost harder than tricking Dumbledore," agreed Ron, grinning widely obviously glad that the tension had passed. "It gets quite irritating sometimes."

"She is at least better than Severus," Sirius countered. "He could easily win the top place in the 'Irritating' category."

"He can be easily place in a category by himself," Hermione muttered, causing the other three to burst out laughing. "He doesn't need to compete with anyone. No one can even think of measuring up to his…creepiness!"

"I think we should get back to the reading," commented Ron, glancing at his watch.

"Yup," agreed Sirius. "But Harry, you still didn't say what sort of help you needed…"

Harry grinned at his Godfather. "Isn't it obvious?" he asked. "I want you to stop the other two Marauders from killing Severus."

Sirius blanched visibly. "Do I look like I have a death wish?" he groaned. "Stopping Remus when he will be at the pinnacle of his temper? Do you know what you are asking of me?"

Harry shrugged casually, his lips lifting again in an evil smirk. "I think I do. You are the only one who can control them. We will have our hands full with the others."

"You will owe me for that!" stated Sirius, glaring at his Godson, who was still smirking annoyingly. "And stop smirking like an idiot!" he added.

"Thanks Sirius," said Harry sincerely. He hesitated for a moment before stepping up and hugging his Godfather. "Thanks a lot for understanding about Severus. He will really need all the support that he can get."

"I know that," Sirius replied gruffly. "I won't pretend that it will be very easy to forgive him or something. It will take time…The hate is much too prevalent now. But, I can try. In fact, I will. I can at least do this much for my Godson."

"You were a great Godfather," Harry whispered, the words meant only for Sirius' ears. "And I really really mean it."

"Of course, I was," said Sirius, ruffling Harry's hair playfully. But, Harry could see the gratitude in his eyes. "Now let's get back to the reading before Lily loses her head completely! That girl is obsessed about books."

We can totally understand!" Harry and Ron chorused, grinning at Hermione who was resolutely looking away. Ron grabbed the discarded and half-filled bag of cookies as they were leaving the room, causing Hermione to roll her eyes at him.

"Hey there you all are!" James exclaimed, as soon as they re-entered the reading room. "Where have you all been?"

"Can't I have a talk with my Godfather?" Harry remarked sounding hurt. Out of the corner of his eyes he saw Sirius hesitate a little before joining the little group that had assembled around Severus. He let out the breathe that he didn't really realize that he was holding; now that he was sure that Sirius would not react too badly.

"Of course, you can," said James, ignoring Harry's 'hurt' voice. "I just hope that you all weren't planning some elaborate prank or something."

"Nothing like that!" Ron replied truthfully, though he could not resist but smirk a little. He knew that the smirk would make James think otherwise and he wasn't wrong. James was indeed looking a little anxious.

"Can we get back to the reading now?" Lily demanded. "We have wasted enough time."

"Sure, Mum," replied Harry.

In a minute or two everybody had settled down on their seats. "So, who wants to read now?" Molly asked. "The chapter must be about the Horcruxes."

"In that case, may I?" Dumbledore said and picked up the book from the table. "The Chapter's title is, very predictably, Horcruxes."

"Very Original!" James remarked, sniggering softly. "A chapter about Horcruxes, titled Horcruxes."

"It is a little funny," Arthur agreed. "Perfectly acceptable but funny."

Harry could feel the Felix Felicis wearing off as he crept back into the castle. The front door had remained unlocked for him, but on the third floor he met Peeves and only narrowly avoided detection by diving sideways through one of his shortcuts.

"You have to know how to deal with Peeves," said Remus, knowledgably. "A bit of bargaining is all it takes. He is not really a very big problem!"

"That would be Filch!" added Sirius grinning at Remus. But even that grin was the slightest bit strained, Harry observed. However he was taking everything far better than Harry could have ever hoped for.

By the time he got up to the portrait of the Fat Lady and pulled off his Invisibility Cloak, he was not surprised to find her in a most unhelpful mood. "What sort of time do you call this?"

"I'm really sorry — I had to go out for something important —"

"Well, the password changed at midnight, so you'll just have to sleep in the corridor, won't you?"

"They never change at Midnight!" Lily said indignantly. "And she just cannot make my son sleep out in the corridors. Even if he is able to evade the teacher; he will catch a hell of a cold!"

"I don't think she will, Lily," said Molly, chuckling. "She does that to frighten the students."

"You sure know a lot about it," said Lily slyly, causing Molly to blush crimson and Ron to groan and bury his head in his hand. That's his Mother, for heaven's sake!

"You're joking!" said Harry. "Why did it have to change at midnight?"

"That's the way it is," said the Fat Lady. "If you're angry, go and take it up with the headmaster, he's the one who's tightened security."

"Fantastic," said Harry bitterly, looking around at the hard floor. "Really brilliant. Yeah, I would go and take it up with Dumbledore if he was here, because he's the one who wanted me to —"

"He is here," said a voice behind Harry. "Professor Dumbledore returned to the school an hour ago."

"That's superb!" Alice squealed. "Harry can show him the memory right now! He does not even have to wait till the morning."

"But Harry needs his sleep too…" Lily mumbled half-heartedly, almost smirking at the indignant look that crossed her son's face.

"The memory was more important," protested Harry. "And I could always take a nap in the classes." He sniggered at the looks of outrage that passed through his Mother's and Hermione's faces.

Dumbledore chuckled genially before continuing with the chapter.

Nearly Headless Nick was gliding toward Harry, his head wobbling as usual upon his ruff. "I had it from the Bloody Baron, who saw him arrive," said Nick. "He appeared, according to the Baron, to be in good spirits, though a little tired, of course."

"Where is he?" said Harry, his heart leaping.

"Oh, groaning and clanking up on the Astronomy Tower, it's a, favorite pastime of his —"

"He means the Headmaster!" Sirius snapped. "Why on earth would Harry wish to know about the Slytherin ghost's whereabouts!"

James frowned a bit at Sirius' reaction. "Nick didn't know that, Sirius," he said. "That wasn't anything staid. Just a stupid comment."

"Extremely stupid," murmured Sirius, managing a small grin. James pierced him with the concerned look for a moment more, but did not comment.

"Not the Bloody Baron — Dumbledore!"

"Oh — in his office," said Nick. "I believe, from what the Baron said, that he had business to attend to before turning in —"

"Yeah, he has," said Harry, excitement blazing in his chest at the prospect of telling Dumbledore he had secured the memory. He wheeled about and sprinted off again, ignoring the Fat Lady who was calling after him.

"Come back! All right, I lied! I was annoyed you woke me up! The password's still 'tapeworm'!"

"She is not supposed to shriek the password for the whole hallway to hear!"

Minerva said indignantly. "It no longer remains a secret!"

"I don't think it does anyways," Frank pointed out. "Remain a secret, that is. Not with half the house population discussing…even screaming about it at the Great Hall."

"That's true too," Minerva conceded.

But Harry was already hurtling back along the corridor and within minutes, he was saying "toffee éclairs" to Dumbledore's gargoyle, which leapt aside, permitting Harry entrance onto the spiral staircase.

"Enter," said Dumbledore when Harry knocked. He sounded exhausted. Harry pushed open the door. There was Dumbledore's office, looking the same as ever, but with black, star-strewn skies beyond the windows.

"Good gracious, Harry," said Dumbledore in surprise. "To what do I owe this very late pleasure?"

"Sir — I've got it. I've got the memory from Slughorn."

Harry pulled out the tiny glass bottle and showed it to Dumbledore. For a moment or two, the headmaster looked stunned. Then his face split in a wide smile.

"Wow," Remus praised. "You actually managed to take the Headmaster by surprise. I would have never thought it to be possible."

Dumbledore smiled at his student. "I can assure you that it has happened quite often, Mr. Lupin. Every time I think that the Marauders have reached the height of their imagination and innovation; you prove me wrong by conducting an even more innovative prank."

Remus blushed slightly at the comment, while James and Sirius grinned proudly.

"Harry, this is spectacular news! Very well done indeed! I knew you could do it!" All thought of the lateness of the hour apparently forgotten, he hurried around his desk, took the bottle with Slughorn's memory in his uninjured hand, and strode over to the cabinet where he kept the Pensieve.

"And now," said Dumbledore, placing the stone basin upon the desk and emptying the contents of the bottle into it. "Now, at last. we shall see. Harry, quickly . . ."

Harry bowed obediently over the Pensieve and felt his feet leave the office floor. . . . Once again he fell through darkness and landed in Horace Slughorn's office many years before. There was the much younger Slughorn, with his thick, shiny, straw-colored hair and his gingery-blond mustache, sitting again in the comfortable winged armchair in his office, his feet resting upon a velvet pouffe, a small glass of wine in one hand, the other rummaging in a box of crystallized pineapple. And there were the half dozen teenage boys sitting around Slughorn with Tom Riddle in the midst of them, Marvolo's gold-and-black ring gleaming on his finger.

"It still seems unbelievable that he killed his own Father and Grandparents at that tender age," Lily murmured, looking slightly nauseated.

"Tom Riddle Sr. wasn't exactly a saint, Lily," Severus pointed out. "He abandoned his baby."

"Maybe he wasn't," Sirius cut in curtly. "However, he is not the first person who abandoned or neglected his kid! But, you don't see all those other kids murdering their fathers for that reason!"

Snape frowned at Sirius. "I wasn't justifying Voldemort's actions," he said. "Obviously, there is no justification for murder!"

"Says the person who would join the Death Eaters!" Sirius hissed, but it was loud enough for everyone to hear. A stunned silence met his comment, and Sirius could see Harry shooting him pleading looks.

"Mr. Black!" Minerva snapped. "That comment was totally uncalled for and I believe that an apology is in order."

"What's wrong with you, Padfoot?" Remus murmured, placing a comforting hand on his shoulder. "Severus has not yet gone over to the Dark side. You can't blame him for what happens in the future."

Sirius raised up his eyes to meet Severus' and physically recoiled on seeing the hurt and defeat etched on his features. He felt like an utter prat now for saying those things. "I am sorry," he apologized softly. "I shouldn't…"

"You didn't say anything wrong!" Snape retorted, his eyes moving up to meet Sirius's. "You just reported a fact! I will be a Death Eater! And I will probably murder innocent people. That certainly gives me no right to justify or protest against anyone else's actions."

"I don't think you have done anything to blame yourself," Lily stated, throwing a glare at Sirius. "And we can't expect you to answer for something that you supposedly do in the future."

"Sorry," Sirius mumbled yet again, shooting apologetic looks at Harry too. But, Harry smiled slightly and waved aside his unspoken apology. He could not place blame on his Godfather. After all, he himself has not been able to forgive Snape till now. Even after, all those things that the man had done for him. He was not proud of it; but he could hardly judge someone else's reactions in this regard.

Dumbledore landed beside Harry just as Riddle asked, "Sir is it true that Professor Merrythought is retiring?"

"Tom, Tom, if I knew I couldn't tell you," said Slughorn, wagging his finger reprovingly at Riddle, though winking at the same time. "I must say, I'd like to know where you get your information, boy, more knowledgeable than half the staff, you are."

Riddle smiled; the other boys laughed and cast him admiring looks.

"What with your uncanny ability to know things you shouldn't, and your careful flattery of the people who matter — thank you for the pineapple, by the way, you're quite right, it is my favorite —" Several of the boys tittered again. "— I confidently expect you to rise to Minister of Magic within twenty years. Fifteen, if you keep sending me pineapple, I have excellent contacts at the Ministry."

"This was one of the parts that he changed in the previous memory,"

remarked Alice. "He did not wish to show his 'flattery-loving' self."

"That was one of Horace's more serious faults," said Dumbledore, shaking his head. "Horace is not a bad person, but he absolutely bakes in his own comfort. That matters the most to him."

Tom Riddle merely smiled as the others laughed again. Harry noticed that he was by no means the eldest of the group of boys, but that they all seemed to look to him as their leader.

"I don't know that politics would suit me, sir," he said when the laughter had died away. "I don't have the right kind of background, for one thing."

A couple of the boys around him smirked at each other. Harry was sure they were enjoying a private joke, undoubtedly about what they knew, or suspected, regarding their gang leader's famous ancestor.

"I think that most of his Death Eaters are well aware of Riddle's background and parentage," said Ron. "They just choose to ignore it or something."

"Or maybe they love the idea that he has…has pr…pruned his muggle-parentage," Molly commented, stammering a little. "Wi…Wiped all traces of it."

"Of course!" said Lily bitterly. "They would just love that, won't they? After all, they are just as eager to get rid of the filth part of their own families!"

"Muggles and Muggleborns are not…." James started to protest but was

interrupted by Lily.

"According to them, we are," she said soothingly, grinning at her future husband. "But they really not someone whose opinion holds strength, are they?"

"Not by a long way…" James agreed, grinning back.

"Nonsense," said Slughorn briskly, "couldn't be plainer you come from decent Wizarding stock, abilities like yours. No, you'll go far, Tom, I've never been wrong about a student yet."

The small golden clock standing upon Slughorn's desk chimed eleven o'clock behind him and he looked around. "Good gracious, is it that time already? You'd better get going boys, or we'll all be in trouble. Lestrange, I want your essay by in morrow or its detention. Same goes for you, Avery."

One by one, the boys filed out of the room. Slughorn heaved himself out of his armchair and carried his empty glass over to his desk. A movement behind him made him look around; Riddle was still standing there. "Look sharp, Tom, you don't want to be caught out of bed out of hours, and you a prefect..."

"Who in their right mind made him a Prefect!" Frank grumbled.

"They didn't exactly know," Arthur pointed out. "Riddle did not broadcast his intentions openly. If anything, he was supposedly a model student."

"That he was," confirmed Dumbledore. "Secrecy was and is one of Tom's strongest attributes. And regrettably, mine too." He added under his breath.

"Sir, I wanted to ask you something."

"Ask away, then, m'boy, ask away. . . ."

"Sir, I wondered what you know about. . . about Horcruxes?'

Slughorn stared at him, his thick ringers absentmindedly clawing the stem of his wine glass. "Project for Defense against the Dark Arts, is it?"

"Is that man off his rocker?" Sirius exclaimed, throwing his hands up in the air. "Was there any chance in heavens that 'Horcruxes' would be a part of the DADA project?"

"Mr. Black!" Minerva snapped, though it was seemed to be a little half-hearted. "You should not use such comments against your Professors…even if what they did say is extremely stupid."

Sirius directed a smirk at the Transfiguration Professor who actually grinned back.

But Harry could tell that Slughorn knew perfectly well that this was not schoolwork.

"Not exactly, sir," said Riddle. "I came across the term while reading and I didn't fully understand it."

"No . . . well . . . you'd be hard-pushed to find a book at Hogwarts that'll give you details on Horcruxes, Tom, that's very dark stuff, very Dark indeed," said Slughorn.

"But you obviously know all about them, sir? I mean, a wizard like you — sorry, I mean, if you can't tell me, obviously — I just knew if anyone could tell me, you could — so I just thought I'd –

'This boy is a pro," the Marauders chorused.

"He can trap just about anyone, in his web of flattery," Remus added.

"That's precisely what I thought," Harry said. "Riddle had his 'Talents' all brushed and polished out."

"No doubt about that," remarked Frank, his expression grim. "After all, Riddle was very clear about what he wanted to do in life. Kill people and gain power. Jolly way to live a life!"

It was very well done, thought Harry, the hesitancy, the casual tone, the careful flattery, none of it overdone. He, Harry, had had too much experience of trying to wheedle information out of reluctant people not to recognize a master at work. He could tell that Riddle wanted the information very, very much; perhaps had been working toward this moment for weeks.

"Well," said Slughorn, not looking at Riddle, but fiddling with the ribbon on top of his box of crystallized pineapple, "well, it can't hurt to give you an overview, of course. Just so that you understand the term. A Horcrux is the word used for an object in which a person has concealed part of their soul."

"WHAT?" The cry echoed in the suddenly silent room. Utter incredulity and disbelief was evident on the faces of the Teenagers (other than the Trio).

"VOl…Voldemort used something like that to store his soul?" Sirius asked his voice laced with incredulity. "Is that even possible? Does that mean that he walks around soulless?"

"That can't be possible…" Lily murmured. "A person can't be soulless."

Dumbledore chuckled softly at his students' comments. "Tom is certainly not soulless. A Horcrux stores a 'part' of a soul…not the entire soul."

"A…A part!" James repeated, looking and sounding sickened. "We…The soul can be cut off or something?"

"I think you all will get your answers as I progress with the chapter," Dumbledore said. "I never ever wanted you all to know about such dark objects…but I don't think that there is a choice now. I can just hope and I am fairly confident that none of you would ever be lured by the Dark."

"Lured by something that Voldemort's interested in?" Arthur scoffed. "Big chance of that happening!"

"I don't quite understand how that works, though, sir," said Riddle. His voice was carefully controlled, but Harry could sense his excitement.

"Well, you split your soul, you see," said Slughorn, "and hide part of it in an object outside the body. Then, even if one's body is attacked or destroyed, one cannot die, for part of the soul remains earthbound and undamaged. But of course, existence in such a form ..."

Slughorn's face crumpled and Harry found himself remembering words he had heard nearly two years before: "I was ripped from my body, I was less than spirit, less than the meanest ghost. . . but still, I was alive."

"But does that mean that he is immortal?" Alice queried, her voice holding barely withheld tremors. "And Riddle actually made that Horcrux…"

"Yes, he did," Hermione replied. "But immortal… No, Riddle is not immortal. Horcruxes can be destroyed. And once a Horcrux is destroyed, the part of the soul in it dies too."

"But, isn't the soul supposed to be indestructible?" Frank asked, looking at Dumbledore curiously.

"Not when it is split," Dumbledore answered. "Only the part that remains in the body is indestructible. But, it is very difficult to destroy a Horcrux. Especially one that has been made and obviously very well protected by Voldemort." He sighed heavily and continued with the chapter.

"... few would want it, Tom, very few. Death would be preferable."

But Riddle's hunger was now apparent; his expression was greedy, he could no longer hide his longing. "How do you split your soul?"

"Well," said Slughorn uncomfortably, "you must understand that the soul is supposed to remain intact and whole. Splitting it would be an act of violation, it is against nature."

"But how do you do it?"

"By an act of evil — the supreme act of evil. By committing murder. Killing rips the soul apart. The wizard intent upon creating a Horcrux would use the damage to his advantage: He would encase the torn portion —"

"Does that mean that he had already made a Horcrux?" said Lily. "I mean, when he killed hi…his Father and Grandparents."

"But, he didn't really know about them did he?" Snape retorted. "If he did know about them, why would he question Professor Slughorn?"

"I don't think that Voldemort would like to give away any of his plans, if he could help it," reasoned James, frowning at the book sitting in Dumbledore's hands. "Either he didn't know about the Horcruxes or he wanted something else from Slughorn…"

"Don't you all think that it is better to let Professor Dumbledore read the Chapter instead of just speculating wildly?" Harry asked slyly causing James to glower and Sirius to snigger loudly.

"Encase? But how —?"

"There is a spell, do not ask me, I don't know!" said Slughorn shaking his head like an old elephant bothered by mosquitoes. "Do I look as though I have tried it — do I look like a killer?"

"No, sir, of course not," said Riddle quickly. "I'm sorry ... I didn't mean to offend . . ."

"Not at all, not at all, not offended," said Slughorn gruffly, "It is natural to feel some curiosity about these things... Wizards of a certain caliber have always been drawn to that aspect of magic. . . ."

"Yes, sir," said Riddle. "What I don't understand, though — just out of curiosity — I mean, would one Horcrux be much use? Can you only split your soul once? Wouldn't it be better, make you stronger, to have your soul in more pieces, I mean, for instance, isn't seven the most powerfully magical number, wouldn't seven —?"

"Has that man totally lost his mind?" Frank yelled out. "Even a remotely sane person wouldn't even think of splitting his soul into so many pieces.

"I wouldn't incorporate Voldemort and sane in one sentence," Arthur said wryly. "But, splitting his soul seven times seems to be an exaggeration…even for him."

"Maybe he was just being curious?" Alice suggested. "It is possible," she defended herself noting the skeptical looks that her friends were giving her. "Even Voldemort is allowed to feel curious about some things. Just because he had a whim, doesn't mean that he followed it."

"It could be possible," Dumbledore acknowledged and continued reading.

"Merlin's beard, Tom!" yelped Slughorn. "Seven! Isn't it bad enough to think of killing one person? And in any case . . . bad enough to divide the soul . . . but to rip it into seven pieces . . ." Slughorn looked deeply troubled now: He was gazing at Riddle as though he had never seen him plainly before and Harry could tell that he was regretting entering into the conversation at all. "Of course," he muttered, "this is all hypothetical, what we're discussing, isn't it? All academic . . ."

"You wish!" Lily murmured, bitterly. "This is VOLDEMORT we are talking…reading about!"

"But if Voldemort already knew about the Horcruxes, then Professor Slughorn isn't to be blamed all that much," Remus reasoned.

"I don't think that we can...or should blame Prof Slughorn even if he did provide some valuable information to Voldemort," commented Ron, peering up at the others. "He can't really be blamed for having a few favorites. And Tom Riddle was indeed a brilliant student. And any teacher would be inclined to answer the queries posed by their students; especially if they are academically inclined. Professor Slughorn's only fault was his failure to judge Voldemort's intents."

"And that obviously wasn't all that easy," Hermione added. "Voldemort was an expert in curtaining his real intents. Only someone adept at Legilimency would have been able to judge his intents."

"Yes, sir, of course," said Riddle quickly.

"But all the same, Tom . . . keep it quiet, what I've told — that's to say, what we've discussed. People wouldn't like to think we've been chatting about Horcruxes. It's a banned subject at Hogwarts, you know. . . . Dumbledore's particularly fierce about it…"

"I won't say a word, sir," said Riddle, and he left, but not before Harry had glimpsed his face, which was full of that same wild happiness it had worn when he had first found out that he was a wizard, the sort of happiness that did not enhance his handsome features, but made them, somehow, less human. . . .

"I don't think that any twisted sense of happiness ever augments up anybody's features," remarked Arthur.

"And even the thoughts of a 'happy' Voldemort is scary," added Molly, grimacing and leaning back against her boyfriend.

"Thank you, Harry," said Dumbledore quietly. "Let us go. . . ."

When Harry landed back on the office floor Dumbledore was; already sitting down behind his desk. Harry sat too and waited for Dumbledore to speak. "I have been hoping for this piece of evidence for a very long time," said Dumbledore at last. "It confirms the theory on which I have been working, it tells me that I am right, and also how very far there is still to go. ..."

Harry suddenly noticed that every single one of the old head-masters and headmistresses in the portraits around the walls was awake and listening in on their conversation. A corpulent, red nosed wizard had actually taken out an ear trumpet.

"Well, Harry," said Dumbledore, "I am sure you understood the significance of what we just heard. At the same age as you are now, give or take a few months, Tom Riddle was doing all he could to find out how to make himself immortal."

"But Professor," James interrupted Dumbledore and questioned. "Even with the Horcrux or with more than one Horcrux, Voldemort is not exactly immortal, is he? You did say that it was perfectly possible to destroy the Horcruxes… So, as soon as they or it is destroyed…"

"Voldemort will be just a mortal," Dumbledore confirmed. "But, as I said earlier, it is tremendously difficult to destroy a Horcrux. Especially to get through the protections that Tom would have definitely placed on and around it. That makes him near-about invincible. He could be killed, of course, but it would be tough…exceedingly tough."

"Is a Horcrux dangerous by itself?" This time the question was posed by Snape. "If they get near any person, can they cause any serious harm?"

Dumbledore held Snape with a piercing look. "It is, Mr. Snape," he replied. "A Horcrux is very, very dangerous. Even without any protection spell around it. A Horcrux is a piece of a soul and acts the same way. If you get too close to the Horcrux…more emotionally than physically…it can affect and manipulate your way of thinking. It can affect you to the extent that you do things against your will. Emotional dependence on the Horcrux can result in strengthening of the part of the soul concealed in that object and it can even start possessing the user."

"Bloody hell!" Sirius swore under his breath. "This th…thing even sounds repulsive! And I thought that it was harmless by itself."

"It is not the darkest object ever for nothing, Mr. Black," Dumbledore said, chuckling darkly. He shook his head, as if to clear his mind of the depressing thoughts and resumed reading.

"You think he succeeded then, sir?" asked Harry. "He made a Horcrux? And that's why he didn't die when he attacked me? He had a Horcrux hidden somewhere? A bit of his soul was safe?"

"A bit... or more," said Dumbledore. "You heard Voldemort, what he particularly wanted from Horace was an opinion on what would happen to the wizard who created more than one Horcrux, what would happen to the wizard so determined to evade death that he would be prepared to murder many times, rip his soul repeatedly, so as to store it in many, separately concealed Horcrux. No book would have given him that information. As far as I know — as far, I am sure, as Voldemort knew — no wizard had ever done more than tear his soul in two."

"He did make seven Horcruxes?" Lily stated, glancing at the Trio with fear and worry evident in her eyes. "And that just makes the fulfillment of the Prophecy so much more difficult!"

"I don't think that Professor Dumbledore will let them get near the Horcruxes," Molly said confidently, though Harry could detect the tone of doubt underneath. "You all don't, do you?" she added worriedly, looking at the Trio.

"Can't say," Ron prompted, grinning cheekily at his Mother. "But if someone has to destroy Voldemort then they have to face the Horcruxes too, don't they?" Molly groaned, the implication of her son's words striking her.

Lily's face turned ashen at the thought of her son and his teenaged friends facing the foul object and she turned and buried her face in James' shoulders though her attention did not waver from Dumbledore's reading.

Dumbledore paused for a moment, marshaling his thought, and then said, "Four years ago, I received what I considered certain proof that Voldemort had split his soul."

"Where?" asked Harry. "How?"

"You handed it to me, Harry," said Dumbledore. "The diary, Riddle's diary, the one giving instructions on how to reopen the Chamber of Secrets."

"NO!" Molly shrieked out, her face becoming ghostly pale. "Ginny was possessed by a Horcrux? She was just 11, for heaven's sake!"

"The diary that po…possessed Ginny was indeed a Horcrux," Hermione stammered. She was one of the very few people to whom Ginny had confided the details of her 'possession' by Riddle. And after dealing with the locket herself, she could personally feel the anguish that Ginny must have gone through during that entire period. And she was so much younger too…

"Holy heavens!" Arthur murmured, draping an arm over Molly and pulling her into a comforting hug. "Did Malfoy know what that thing was?" His voice held cold rage; something that was extremely rare.

"No, he didn't," Ron answered his Father. "He obviously knew that it belonged to Voldemort but he had no idea that it was a Horcrux. Not many people knew that Voldemort had made Horcruxes." Arthur gave a tiny nod. This information didn't act at all to lessen his anger but at least he can restrain himself from finding him and killing his right now!

"I don't understand, sir," said Harry.

"Well, although I did not see the Riddle who came out of the diary, what you described to me was a phenomenon I had never witnessed. A mere memory starting to act and think for itself? A mere memory, sapping the life out of the girl into whose hands it had fallen? No, something much more sinister had lived inside that book. ... a fragment of soul, I was almost sure of it. The diary had been a Horcrux. But this raised as many questions as it answered. What intrigued and alarmed me most was that that diary had been intended as a weapon as much as a safeguard."

"1 still don't understand," said Harry.

"Well, it worked as a Horcrux is supposed to work — in other words, the fragment of soul concealed inside it was kept safe and had undoubtedly played its part in preventing the death of its owner. But there could be no doubt that Riddle really wanted that diary read, wanted the piece of his soul to inhabit or possess some-body else, so that Slytherin's monster would be unleashed again."

"That means Voldemort's Horcrux is probably much more deadly than any other Wizard's," Snape remarked.

"Absolutely," Harry confirmed. "While others would have just served as safe-keeping, Voldemort's Horcruxes were some sort of weapons themselves!"

"The diary was probably the worst one…followed by the locket," Ron murmured to his friends.

Hermione nodded. "That's true," she said. "But, the protection was probably the worst on the ring. After all, its effects did prove fatal for Dumbledore."

"Just wait till you hear the full story about that 'cave incident'," Harry muttered darkly. "You will be forced to change your opinion." Hermione and Ron exchanged a worried look but did not probe further.

"Well, he didn't want his hard work to be wasted," said Harry. "He wanted people to know he was Slytherin's heir, because he couldn't take credit at the time."

"Quite correct," said Dumbledore, nodding. "But don't you see, Harry, that if he intended the diary to be passed to, or planted on, some future Hogwarts student, he was being remarkably blasé about that precious fragment of his soul concealed within it. The point of a Horcrux is, as Professor Slughorn explained, to keep part of the self hidden and safe, not to fling it into somebody else's path and run the risk that they might destroy it — as indeed happened: That particular fragment of soul is no more; you saw to that.

"That means you destroyed a Horcrux when you were just 12!" James exclaimed, looking proudly at his son. "Now that must be some achievement!"

"As if killing a Basilisk was any mere feat!" said Sirius teasingly. "We just have to agree that the three of them are still more than your ordinary teenagers. I really doubt that an 'ordinary' teenager leads such an action-packed school life." Almost identical blushes adorned the faces of the Trio at Sirius' comment.

The careless way in which Voldemort regarded this Horcrux seemed most ominous to me. It suggested that he must have made — or had been planning to make — more Horcruxes, so that the loss of his first would not be so detrimental. I did not wish to believe it, but nothing else seemed to make sense. Then you told me, two years later, that on the night that Voldemort returned to his body, he made a most illuminating and alarming statement to his Death Eaters. 'I who have gone further than anybody along the path that leads to immortality.' That was what you told me he said. 'Further than anybody!'

"He talked about the Horcruxes in front of his death-eater pals?" Snape remarked, sounding curious. "I had the idea that he didn't want anyone to know about them."

"His Death Eaters did not know about them," Harry replied. "At least, that's what Professor Dumbledore told me. And they did seem ignorant about it!"

And I thought I knew what that meant, though the Death Eaters did not. He was referring to his Horcruxes, Horcruxes in the plural, Harry, which I don't believe any other wizard has ever had. Yet it fitted: Lord Voldemort has seemed to grow less human with the passing years, and the transformation he had undergone seemed to me to be only explainable if his soul was mutilated beyond the realms of what we might call 'usual evil' . . ."

"That's how he got his weird appearance," Molly murmured to herself. "In the process of fragmenting his soul, he also managed to distort his features."

"Every time he fragmented his soul, the 'human' part of him somehow died," said Hermione, looking a little disgusted. "And all that is left beneath is the evil and twisted mind and shell."

"So he's made himself impossible to kill by murdering other people?" said Harry. "Why couldn't he make a Sorcerer's Stone, or steal one, if he was so interested in immortality?"

"Now that is a really good question," Remus said. "It would have been much…much safer. And a whole lot less sickening; not that Voldemort really cares about that."

"He must revel in the sickening part," Sirius commented, stretching languidly. "The more sickening…the better. Nevertheless, he did try to steal a Philosopher's stone in Harry's first year, didn't he? That means he wasn't exactly against the idea." Remus nodded slightly, showing his agreement to Sirius's words.

"Well, we know that he tried to do just that, five years ago," said Dumbledore. "But there are several reasons why, I think, a Sorcerer's Stone would appeal less than Horcruxes to Lord Voldemort,

"While the Elixir of Life does indeed extend life, it must be drunk regularly, for all eternity, if the drinker is to maintain the immortality. Therefore, Voldemort would be entirely dependant on the Elixir, and if it ran out, or was contaminated, or if the Stone was stolen, he would die just like any other man. Voldemort likes to operate alone, remember. I believe that he would have found the thought of being dependent, even on the Elixir, intolerable. Of course he was prepared to drink it if it would take him out of the horrible part-life to which he was condemned after attacking you, but only to regain a body.

"Weird!" the Marauders chorused. "That Voldemort is not even happy with just being immortal…he actually craved for the right way to do it!" added James, shaking his head exasperatedly.

"Voldemort's actions do strike to be a bit funny," Lily confessed grinning slightly. "Though their outcomes are most certainly not so. They are absolutely horrific."

"One cannot really hope for normal stuff from an insane person, Lils," remarked Alice, smirking slightly. "And Voldemort surely defines and constructs new heights of insanity." This caused everyone to break out into peals of laughter.

Thereafter, I am convinced; he intended to continue to rely on his Horcruxes. He would need nothing more, if only he could regain a human form. He was already immortal; you see ... or as close to immortal as any man can be. But now, Harry, armed with this information, the crucial memory you have succeeded in procuring for us, we are closer to the secret of finishing Lord Voldemort than anyone has ever been before. You heard him, Harry: 'Wouldn't it be better, make you stronger, to have your soul in more pieces . . . isn't seven the most powerfully magical number... 'Yes, I think the idea of a seven-part soul would greatly appeal to Lord Voldemort."

"He made seven Horcruxes?" said Harry, horror-struck, while several of the portraits on the walls made similar noises of shock and outrage. "But they could be anywhere in the world — hidden — buried or invisible —"

"I am glad to see you appreciate the magnitude of the problem," said Dumbledore calmly. "But firstly, no, Harry, not seven Horcruxes: six.

"Seven!" murmured Hermione, her voice dripping with venom, but she took care to keep it low. "I still can't believe that Professor Dumbledore didn't let you know that you were the last Horcrux! And how can he just expect you to sacrifice yourself? That is one thing for which I don't think I will ever be able to forgive him." Ron slung an arm around Hermione trying to calm her down.

"It wasn't his fault, Mione," Harry tried to reason with his friend. "You know very well why he did it. I was a Horcrux and…"

"…and you needed to be destroyed?" Hermione finished, sarcastically.

"He saved me," Harry prompted again. "He knew that if I didn't put up any resistance, only Voldemort's soul would die. That was the only way that Voldemort could have been destroyed, Mione."

"I know all that, Harry!" she snapped. "You know what…Just forget it! You will not understand." Hermione turned her face away from him but not before Harry had caught the glimmer of tears in them.

"Hey…What's wrong?" Harry asked her, pulling her into a warm hug. "Things worked out at the end, didn't they?"

Ron sighed heavily and fixed Harry with a mild glare. "Harry, do you realize how bloody awful it was for us when we caught sight of your 'dead' body?" he asked softly. "Our whole world, sort of, came crashing down on us. Did you really think that we could forget it so soon?"

"M sorry," Harry mumbled and pulled both Hermione and Ron in an awkward hug. "I promise I will refrain from doing anything like that for a while."

"I will kill you if you even think of that!" Hermione's said, her voice muffled due to Harry's jumper. Harry chuckled and kissed dropped a kiss on her head, earning a sharp jab in the ribs from Ron.

The seventh part of his soul, however maimed, resides inside his regenerated body. That was the part of him that lived a spectral existence for so many years during his exile; without that, he has no self at all. That seventh piece of soul will be the last that anybody wishing to kill Voldemort must attack — the piece that lives in his body."

"But the six Horcruxes, then," said Harry, a little desperately, "how are we supposed to find them?"

"You are forgetting . . . you have already destroyed one of them. And I have destroyed another."

"Wow!" Sirius cheered and was joined by the others. "That's just brilliant! But, which one was it?"

"Two down!" Lily murmured, under her breath. "That means that only four more are left! That's certainly good progress!"

"You have?" said Harry eagerly.

"Yes indeed," said Dumbledore and he raised his blackened, burned-looking hand. "The ring, Harry. Marvolo's ring.

"And the curse destroyed his hand!" Alice exclaimed. "That doesn't look at all well."

"The first Horcrux caused the Chamber of Secrets to open and the second caused the destruction of Albus's hand!" said Minerva sarcastically. "Destroying Horcruxes are indeed costing a lot."

"It is far far worse!" Harry whispered to his friends. "If they think that this bad…I don't know what they will say when they get to know the whole extent of the damage caused by the Horcruxes."

And a terrible curse there was upon it too. Had it not been — forgive me the lack of seemly modesty — for my own prodigious skill, and for Professor Snape's timely action when I returned to Hogwarts, desperately injured, I might not have lived to tell the tale. However, a withered hand does not seem an unreasonable exchange for a seventh of Voldemort's soul. The ring is no longer a Horcrux."

"At least I was of some use," said Snape grumpily. Lily directed a grin at the frowning boy, shaking her head at his sullenness.

"But how did you find it?"

"Well, as you now know, for many years I have made it my business to discover as much as I can about Voldemort's past life. I have traveled widely, visiting those places he once knew. I stumbled across the ring hidden in the ruin of the Gaunt's house. It seems that once Voldemort had succeeded in sealing a piece of his soul in side it, he did not want to wear it anymore. He hid it, protected by many powerful enchantments, in the shack where his ancestors had once lived (Morfin having been carted off to Azkaban, of course), never guessing that I might one day take the trouble to visit the ruin, or that I might be keeping an eye open for traces of magical concealment.

"However, we should not congratulate ourselves too heartily. You destroyed the diary and I the ring, but if we are right in our theory of a seven-part soul, four Horcruxes remain."

"And they could be anything?" said Harry. "They could be oh, in tin cans or, I dunno, empty potion bottles. . . ."

"I seriously doubt that Voldemort would use anything so flippant," remarked Frank. "He seems to have a fascination for important things…You know, like heirlooms."

"Yeah, he does!" Remus agreed. "After all, this is Voldemort! He hates common stuff, remember? He will make sure that his Horcruxes are also genuinely fascinating and rare magical objects."

"Fussy man!" Sirius murmured, breaking out into a chuckle, though the others shook their heads at his childishness.

"You are thinking of Portkeys, Harry, which must be ordinary objects, easy to overlook. But would Lord Voldemort use tin cans or old potion bottles to guard his own precious soul? You are forgetting what I have showed you. Lord Voldemort liked to collect trophies, and he preferred objects with a powerful magical history His pride, his belief in his own superiority, his determination to carve for himself a startling place in magical history; these things, suggest to me that Voldemort would have chosen his Horcrux with some care, favoring objects worthy of the honor."

"The diary wasn't that special."

"The diary, as you have said yourself, was proof that he was the Heir of Slytherin. I am sure that Voldemort considered it of stupendous importance."

"And it aided in the reopening of the Chamber of Secrets," Lily pointed out. "That must have been quite special to Voldemort."

"That Horcrux was pretty powerful too," Ron added. "And the addition of Ginny's power helped to increase its strength considerably."

"So…Our little girl will be a powerful witch," said Molly, her face breaking out into a delighted smile. "That's great to hear."

"Her magical powers are indeed very powerful!" Harry confirmed with a reminiscent smile on his face. He was really missing his girlfriend; he hardly noticed the teasing smile that Sirius was directing at him.

"So, the other Horcruxes?" said Harry. "Do you think you know what they are, sir?"

"I can only guess," said Dumbledore. "For the reasons I have already given, I believe that Lord Voldemort would prefer objects that, in themselves, have certain grandeur. I have therefore trawled back through Voldemort's past to see if I can find evidence that such artifacts have disappeared around him."

"The locket!" said Harry loudly, "Hufflepuff's cup!"

"House Heirlooms!" Lily shrieked out. "Voldemort is collecting house Heirlooms!"

"But, he doesn't have anything that belongs to Ravenclaw or Gryffindor,"

said James, his brows furrowing up. "Or maybe he does have those too."

"He is mostly using objects linked to or belonging to Slytherin," Remus pointed out. "The diary belonged to him, and the ring was a Slytherin heirloom. And, if the locket was made into a Horcrux then it will be the third Slytherin object to be used."

"That makes sense," commented Minerva. "He is the last heir of Slytherin; obviously he would prefer objects belonging to that house. And all the three things are, after all, his inheritance."

"Yes," said Dumbledore, smiling, "I would be prepared to bet — perhaps not my other hand — but a couple of fingers, that they became Horcruxes three and four. The remaining two, assuming again that he created a total of six, are more of a problem, but I will hazard a guess that, having secured objects from Hufflepuff and Slytherin, he set out to track down objects owned by Gryffindor or Ravenclaw. Four objects from the four founders would, I am sure, have exerted a powerful pull over Voldemort's imagination. I cannot answer for whether he ever managed to find anything of Ravenclaw's. I am confident, however, that the only known relic of Gryffindor remains safe." Dumbledore pointed his blackened fingers to the wall behind him, where a ruby-encrusted sword reposed within a glass case.

"That's not the only Gryffindor relic!" Arthur exclaimed, looking at Dumbledore with confusion evident on his face. "The Sorting Hat was also Godric Gryffindor's. Even that's a Gryffindor relic!"

"It is!" Dumbledore agreed. "My future self did get that bit of information wrong. The Sorting Hat is indeed a Gryffindor relic. However, it is not possible to turn it into a Horcrux. The hat ids protected by a great many number of ancient spells that will prevents it from being turned into a dark object. And it would be stupid to try and destroy the Sorting Hat, because I am almost sure that it would be impossible to do so."

"Do you think that's why he really wanted to come back to Hogwarts, sir?" said Harry. "To try and find something from one of the other founders?"

"My thoughts precisely," said Dumbledore. "But unfortunately, that does not advance us much further, for he was turned away, or so I believe, without the chance to search the school. I am forced to conclude that he never fulfilled his ambition of collecting four founders' objects. He definitely had two — he may have found three — that is the best we can do for now."

"Even if he got something of Ravenclaw's or of Gryffindor's, that leaves a sixth Horcrux," said Harry, counting on his fingers. "Unless he's got both?"

"I don't think so," said Dumbledore. "I think I know what the sixth Horcrux is. I wonder what you will say when I confess that I have been curious for a while about the behavior of the snake, Nagini?'

"A living being could be used as a Horcrux?" Snape cried out, sounding shocked. "That's just…just…"

"Appalling?" Dumbledore suggested lightly. "It indeed is. It is totally possible to use an animal and even a human being as a Horcrux!"

"A human too?" exclaimed Remus, sounding as horrified and shocked as Severus had. "You can actually replace someone's soul with a bit of your own?"

"Not replace," corrected Dumbledore. "It just stays as an addition! It is nearly impossible to replace any being's soul. And I doubt that even Voldemort could do it."

"The snake?" said Harry, startled. "You can use animals as Horcruxes?"

"Well, it is inadvisable to do so," said Dumbledore, "because to confide a part of your soul to something that can think and move for itself is obviously a very risky business. However, if my calculations are correct, Voldemort was still at least one Horcrux short of his goal of six when he entered your parents' house with the intention of killing you. He seems to have reserved the process of making Horcruxes for particularly significant deaths. You would certainly have been that.

"That…That twisted, evil git!" Lily yelled, her palms fisting up. "His warped intents didn't just stop at trying to kill my baby! He also wanted to use that murder in order to create more Horcruxes! I am going to kill him for sure. And I don't CARE if he has made a HUNDRED HORCRUXES!"

"Calm down, Mum," said Harry in a soothing voice. "Voldemort failed to kill me, remember? It's alright!" Lily gave a tiny nod to Harry, though he noticed that her hands didn't relax one bit.

He believed that in killing you, he was destroying the danger the prophecy had outlined. He believed he was making himself invincible. I am sure that he was intending to make his final Horcrux with your death. As we know, he failed. After an interval of some years, however, he used Nagini to kill an old Muggle man, and it might then have occurred to him to turn her into his last Horcrux. She underlines the Slytherin connection, which enhances Lord Voldemort's mystique; I think he is perhaps as fond of her as he can be of anything; he certainly likes to keep her close, and he seems to have an unusual amount of control over her, even for a Parselmouth."

"So," said Harry, "the diary's gone, the ring's gone. The cup, the locket, and the snake are still intact, and you think there might be a Horcrux that was once Ravenclaw's or Gryffindor's?"

"An admirably succinct and accurate summary, yes," said Dumbledore, bowing his head.

"So . . . are you still looking for them, sir? Is that where you've been going when you've been leaving the school?"

"Correct," said Dumbledore. "I have been looking for a very long time. I think. . . perhaps ... I may be close to finding another one. There are hopeful signs."

"And if you do," said Harry quickly, "can I come with you and help get rid of it?"

"Harry!" Lily groaned. "You just love jumping into dangers, don't you?"

James squeezed Lily's shoulders comfortingly. "He will be alright," he said. "He will be with Professor Dumbledore. No harm can possibly befall him while he is with the Headmaster." He directed a small grin at the Headmaster; though it was clear to all that even he was very worried.

"James, can't you really understand why Professor Dumbledore is showing Harry all these memories?" Lily whispered. She did not want anyone else to overhear. "And why Dumbledore asked him to share things with Ron and Hermione?"

James looked Lily in the eyes and smiled slightly. "I have my suspicions," he said. "And I also know that they are most probably correct. I almost know for sure that Harry will have to destroy Horcruxes in the future. And that Ron and Hermione will also be with him. But, I am not worried. I know that he will come out of it safe and sound."

"We can see that, James!" Lily murmured indignantly. "But, his eyes do not hold complete happiness. He will probably have to go through a lot."

"You are right, Lils. He will have to. But, he is your…our son. And an incredible human being. I have full confidence in him. He knows what he has to do and he will. And don't forget, he has got some amazing friends who will support him and be by his side through thick and thin. They will be okay." Lily nodded slightly and leaned back against him and tried to concentrate on what Dumbledore was reading. Though, her eyes often strayed to her son and his friends.

Dumbledore looked at Harry very intently for a moment before saying, "Yes, I think so."

"I can?" said Harry, thoroughly taken aback.

"Oh yes," said Dumbledore, smiling slightly. "I think you have earned that right."

Harry felt his heart lift. It was very good not to hear words of caution and protection for once. The headmasters and headmistresses around the walls seemed less impressed by Dumbledore's decision; Harry saw a few of them shaking their heads and Phineas Nigellus actually snorted.

"And who cares about him!" Sirius snorted. "And if Harry really has to kill Voldemort or something, he will need all the training that he can get."

"Can we please not talk about my son passing that git, Sirius?" Lily said pleadingly. "It's not something I want to reminisce upon."

"Sorry," Sirius apologized, grimacing slightly. He would really have to start thinking before speaking anything.

"Does Voldemort know when a Horcrux is destroyed, sir? Can he feel it?" Harry asked, ignoring the portraits.

"A very interesting question, Harry. I believe not. I believe that Voldemort is now so immersed in evil, and these crucial parts of himself have been detached for so long, he does not feel as we do. Perhaps, at the point of death, he might be aware of his loss . . . but he was not aware, for instance, that the diary had been destroyed until he forced the truth out of Lucius Malfoy. When Voldemort discovered that the diary had been mutilated and robbed of all its powers, I am told that his anger was terrible to behold."

"Serves those Malfoys right!" Frank snapped. "Especially Lucius Malfoy. Imagine giving an 11 year old kid such a dark object!"

"But I thought he meant Lucius Malfoy to smuggle it into Hogwarts?"

"Yes, he did, years ago, when he was sure he would be able to create more Horcruxes, but still Lucius was supposed to wait for Voldemort's say-so, and he never received it, for Voldemort vanished shortly after giving him the diary. No doubt he thought that Lucius would not dare do anything with the Horcrux other than guard it carefully, but he was counting too much upon Lucius's fear of a master who had been gone for years and whom Lucius believed dead.

"More than believed, he hoped that Voldemort was dead," Harry pointed out, grinning cheekily. "He is too big a coward to exactly live up to his Death Eater duties. He loves his life too much."

"Shouldn't everybody?" asked Remus, his eyebrows rising up considerably.

"Not everybody does!" Harry pointed out. Remus chuckled at his words, shaking his head slightly.

Of course, Lucius did not know what the diary really was. I understand that Voldemort had told him the diary would cause the Chamber of Secrets to reopen because it was cleverly enchanted. Had Lucius known he held a portion of his masters soul in his hands, he would undoubtedly have treated it with more reverence — but instead he went ahead and carried out the old plan for his own ends. By planting the diary upon Arthur Weasleys daughter, he hoped to discredit Arthur and get rid of a highly incriminating magical object in one stroke. Ah, poor Lucius . . . what with Voldemort's fury about the fact that he threw away the Horcrux for his own gain, and the fiasco at the Ministry last year, I would not be surprised if he is not secretly glad to be safe in Azkaban at the moment."

"He wasn't," Ron said wryly. "He may be a git, but he cared for his son. And I don't think that he preferred sitting around in Azkaban while his son had to work for Voldemort."

"You have got a point," Arthur agreed. "We can just hope that this teaches him not to mess around with other's kids."

Harry sat in thought for a moment, and then asked, "So if all of his Horcruxes are destroyed, Voldemort could be killed?"

"Yes, I think so," said Dumbledore. "Without his Horcruxes, Voldemort will be a mortal man with a maimed and diminished soul. Never forget, though, that while his soul may be damaged beyond repair, his brain and his magical powers remain intact. It will take uncommon skill and power to kill a wizard like Voldemort even without his Horcruxes."

"But I haven't got uncommon skill and power," said Harry, before he could stop himself.

"Of course you have, Harry," Hermione snapped, glaring at him. "You just have to take a look at your records to know that."

"I have just got an amazing amount of luck and some brilliant and great friends," Harry replied, shrugging. "Things simply work out for me at the end."

"Stubborn git!" Hermione murmured sarcastically in a stage whisper, causing Harry to glare at her. "He will never ever accept his own achievements. He will go on ignoring them even when they come and kick him from all sides! After all, the great Harry Potter just can't have any good qualities! However, he is to be blamed for every single thing that goes wrong. What a perfectly balanced equation."

"Stop it, Mione!" Harry grumbled under his breath, pointedly ignoring the grins and chuckles and sniggers that were being directed at him owing to Hermione's little 'speech'. "And if it pleases you…'I am one of the bravest and worthiest human beings in the whole world!" Harry announced to the room at large, placing his hand on his heart in a manner of oath taking.

"Much better! Just do that once every day, and maybe you will finally believe it," Hermione said smugly, causing the room to explode in laughter and Harry to bury his head in his hands with a strangled moan. It was quite some time before Dumbledore to continue with the chapter.

"Yes, you have," said Dumbledore firmly. "You have a power that Voldemort has never had. You can —"

"I know!" said Harry impatiently. "I can love!" It was only with difficulty that he stopped himself adding, "Big deal!"

"It is a…a very big deal!" Harry almost gasped out in surprise on hearing these words from none other than Severus Snape. The last person from whom he had expected them. "Do you really believe that it is anything less than a miracle, that you have faced so much and have still turned out to be a…a good individual, a caring person? You did not become all surly and angsty and everything! You never turned to dark arts or craved for any sort of power! That itself indicates the strong power of love within you."

"You mean that he didn't turn out like you…" Sirius stated, with a touch of malice in his voice.

"That's exactly what I meant, Sirius," replied Snape, his eyes holding Sirius' in place. He could sense perfectly well that Sirius' behavior had undergone a change ever since he had disappeared for a talk with the Trio. He didn't know what it was all about; but it was obviously due to something that he would do in the future. And that was getting him much too worried.

"Yes, Harry, you can love," said Dumbledore, who looked as though he knew perfectly well what Harry had just refrained from saying. "Which, given everything that has happened to you, is a great and remarkable thing. You are still too young to understand how unusual you are, Harry."

"He won't understand it, even when he turns a hundred…or two hundred for that matter," Ron remarked smirking. Though the smirk was wiped off his face when Harry smacked him hard with a cushion.

"So, when the prophecy says that I'll have 'power the Dark Lord knows not,' it just means — love?" asked Harry, feeling a little let down.

"Yes — just love," said Dumbledore. "But Harry, never forget that what the prophecy says is only significant because Voldemort made it so. I told you this at the end of last year. Voldemort singled you out as the person who would be most dangerous to him — and in doing so, he made you the person who would be most dangerous to him!"

"But it comes to the same—"

"No, it doesn't!" said Dumbledore, sounding impatient now. Pointing at Harry with his black, withered hand, he said, "You are setting too much store by the prophecy!"

"Of course he is!" Molly scoffed. "Anybody would, if they hear that they must be the one to kill the most evil wizard to walk on the face of the earth. It must make you feel so…so pressurized."

"I think Professor Dumbledore wants Harry to find his own reasons to kill Voldemort," said Frank. "Not just because there is a stupid Prophecy about him, but because he really wishes to do that."

"But," spluttered Harry, "but you said the prophecy means —"

"If Voldemort had never heard of the prophecy, would it have been fulfilled? Would it have meant anything? Of course not! Do you think every prophecy in the Hall of Prophecy has been fulfilled?"

"But," said Harry, bewildered, "but last year, you said one of us would have to kill the other —"

"Harry, Harry, only because Voldemort made a grave error, and acted on Professor Trelawney's words! If Voldemort had never murdered your father, would he have imparted in you a furious desire for revenge? Of course not! If he had not forced your mother to die for you, would he have given you a magical protection he could not penetrate? Of course not, Harry! Don't you see? Voldemort himself created his worst enemy, just as tyrants everywhere do! Have you any idea how much tyrants fear the people they oppress? All of them realize that, one day, amongst their many victims, there is sure to be one who rises against them and strikes back! Voldemort is no different! Always he was on the lookout for the one who would challenge him. He heard the prophecy and he leapt into action, with the result that he not only handpicked the man most likely to finish him, he handed him uniquely deadly weapons!"

"He was right," Harry muttered to his friends. "Voldemort caused his own death. Literally and figuratively. His own actions proved to be fatal for him."

"Thank goodness that he made so many mistakes," Hermione remarked, frowning slightly. "Even though you are one of the biggest prats of this world, I don't think I was quite ready to lose my best friend."

Harry chuckled and shook his head. "No chance of that happening," he said. "Not when even Voldemort failed."

"But —"

"It is essential that you understand this!" said Dumbledore, standing up and striding about the room, his glittering robes swooshing in his wake; Harry had never seen him so agitated. "By attempting to kill you, Voldemort himself singled out the remarkable person who sits here in front of me, and gave him the tools for the job! It is Voldemort's fault that you were able to see into his thoughts, his ambitions, that you even understand the snakelike language in which he gives orders, and yet, Harry, despite your privileged insight into Voldemort's world (which, incidentally, is a gift any Death Eater would kill to have), you have never been seduced by the Dark Arts, never, even for a second, shown the slightest desire to become one of Voldemort's followers!"

"Of course I haven't!" said Harry indignantly. "He killed my mum and dad!"

"You are protected, in short, by your ability to love!" said Dumbledore loudly. "The only protection that can possibly work against the lure of power like Voldemort's! In spite of all the temptation you have endured, all the suffering, you remain pure of heart, just as pure as you were at the age of eleven, when you stared into a mirror that reflected your heart's desire, and it showed you only the way to thwart Lord Voldemort, and not immortality or riches. Harry, have you any idea how few wizards could have seen what you saw in that mirror?

Lily let out an involuntary sob on hearing this. "What's wrong, Lils?" James asked, looking at her in concern. He was surprised to see her eyes glistening with tears, several of which had already made their way down her cheek.

"I…I can't…don't want to believe that I will never get to bring up such a wonderful son," Lily choked out, scrubbing at her cheeks in frustration. "I know it's stupid but…"

"Of course it's not stupid," Molly snapped getting out of her seat and kneeling in front of the red-haired girl. "It's not at all stupid," she continued in a softer tone. "It is completely natural to feel like this. I am feeling so proud every time Ron and my other kids are mention. Even when they are doing something stupid." She turned to smile at Ron, who blushed slightly. "Harry is indeed a very remarkable boy. Obviously, you are upset that you will be unable to raise him."

"He will have such a horrid childhood…." Lily muttered thickly, her voice

heavy with tears. "He won't ever know love till he's bloody eleven!"

"That won't happen, Mum," said Harry from Lily's other side. Something in between, he had come and kneeled beside Molly. "We are changing the future, remember? I won't be brought up by the Dursleys. We are going to try our hardest so that you and Dad don't need to die. That Sirius doesn't get to go to Azkaban. That…That things sort out this time around! And, I am totally confident that we will be able to do it."

Lily smiled at this reassurance from her son and tried to compose herself to listen to the rest of the chapter. Though, she wrapped both Harry and Molly in a tight embrace before letting them go back to their seats.

Voldemort should have known then what he was dealing with, but he did not! But he knows it now. You have flitted into Lord Voldemort's mind without damage to yourself, but he cannot possess you without enduring mortal agony, as he discovered in the Ministry. I do not think he understands why, Harry, but then, he was in such a hurry to mutilate his own soul, he never paused to understand the incomparable power of a soul that is untarnished and whole."

"But, sir," said Harry, making valiant efforts not to sound argumentative, "it all comes to the same thing, doesn't it? I've got to try and kill him, or —"

"Got to?" said Dumbledore. "Of course you've got to! But not because of the prophecy! Because you, yourself, will never rest until you've tried! We both know it! Imagine, please, just for a moment, that you had never heard that prophecy! How would you feel about Voldemort now? Think!"

Harry watched Dumbledore striding up and down in front of him and thought. He thought of his mother, his father, and Sinus. He thought of Cedric Diggory. He thought of all the terrible deeds he knew Lord Voldemort had done. A flame seemed to leap inside his chest, searing his throat.

"I'd want him finished," said Harry quietly. "And I'd want to do it."

"Anybody would, Harry," James murmured softly. "But, you have the resources to actually make that happen."

"But, killing Voldemort…" Lily started to protest but was interrupted by James.

"Is going to be very excruciatingly difficult," James finished. "But, Harry has to do it! Not because of the Prophecy, not even because he wants to do it…Harry will have to finish off Voldemort because otherwise Voldemort is going to kill him!"

"And our son is no coward to sit around and wait for it to happen," Lily murmured, finally getting her mind around to it and accepting that Harry will do anything to thwart Voldemort. And all that she can really do is read about it and try to do something so that her son might have a better childhood.

"Of course you would!" cried Dumbledore. "You see, the prophecy does not mean you have to do anything! But the prophecy caused Lord Voldemort to mark you as his equal. ... In other words, you are free to choose your way, quite free to turn your back on the prophecy! But Voldemort continues to set store by the prophecy. He will continue to hunt you . . . which makes it certain, really, that —"

"That one of us is going to end up killing the other," said Harry. "Yes."

But he understood at last what Dumbledore had been trying to tell him. It was, he thought, the difference between being dragged into the arena to face a battle to the death and walking into the arena with your head held high. Some people, perhaps, would say that there was little to choose between the two ways, but Dumbledore knew — and so do I, thought Harry, with a rush of fierce pride, and so did my parents — that there was all the difference in the world.

"That's the end of the chapter," Dumbledore announced, setting down the book on the table. "Do we go on to the next chapter?"

"Hey Harry!" Hermione whispered, prodding Harry on the back. "I think that you are missing Ginny too much." Harry blushed crimson while Ron put his hands in his arms and groaned. "You want to bring her in? I know you wanted her to come for your Seventh Year…but it's okay to bring her in now."

"I am not sure, Mione," Harry murmured. "Won't Seventh Year be better?"