Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or any of the characters.

Original A/N: Thanks to MaeSilverpaws1, who is beta-ing this story.

Chapter One Hundred Forty-Two

The Horrible Truth

Harry knew he probably should have let someone know as soon as he had succeeded in pushing Voldemort out of his mind, but after weeks of constant pain and exhaustion he had fallen asleep. When he woke up he felt rested and got out of his bed and almost made it out of the hospital wing when he was caught by Madam Pomfrey.

"Where do you think you're going?" she demanded, causing him to jump and turn around to give her a sheepish smile.

"I was just going to see …" Harry tried to explain but trailed off as she gave him a sharp look. Harry sighed; he knew he wasn't going to just get out of here like he wanted so he walked back to her and let her exam him. Of course this examination was just as useless as all of her previous ones, since what was wrong with him was something that wasn't common and there didn't seem to be any magical cure that could be offered him.

"Please, I swear I'm going to be okay now," Harry said a half an hour later.

"You do look more rested than before," Pomfrey said looking into his eyes.

"And my scar isn't hurting anymore," Harry added.

"And you wouldn't be lying to me, Mr. Potter?" Pomfrey raised an eyebrow.

"Well I probably would, but I'm not right now," Harry said cheekily and she rolled her eyes at him. "And I'm going to go to talk to Professor Dumbledore …"

"Very well," Pomfrey sighed.

Harry beamed at her before he turned around and walked out of the hospital. He promised himself that he wouldn't go back there again, though he wasn't sure if he could keep that promise. He might not have to worry about being attacked in his mind, but he knew that he was still one of Voldemort's major targets. As he walked to Dumbledore's office he thought about everything he saw. This was when he knew he should have gone straight to Dumbledore last night, as the details in his vision weren't as predominate as they were before.

When he got to the gargoyle it took Harry a few minutes to get the right password, but eventually he was able to guess the right candy to let him in. He had to wonder why Dumbledore always picked some kind of candy, as once someone figured out about that they were always able to get into his office. He knocked on the door once he was off the revolving stairway and was soon standing in front of a stunned Dumbledore.

"Harry!" Dumbledore had said when he entered, the old man getting out of his chair and walking over to him. He started smiling when he got closer and he said, "Am I to take this surprise visit to mean that Voldemort is no longer …"

"Invading my mind," Harry finished and nodded his head, smiling back at him. "I was able to reverse our connection … or maybe it's was more like I was able to break his defenses."

"Please, Harry, sit down," Dumbledore said, gesturing towards a seat, "I assume there is something that you believe I should know."

"Yes," Harry agreed. He tried to start the story at the end where he recalled what he had seen about Voldemort's memories, the ones that Voldemort definitely didn't want Harry to see. However, Dumbledore wanted to hear more about what happened, and how Harry had learned the newfound strength to fight Voldemort's attacks. So Harry went back to explain to Dumbledore about how Voldemort had shown him how his dad had lost his memories and his touch on reality and then how he had to witness his mum's death. How Voldemort had left him alone for a few hours but it wasn't really enough time because Harry had enough and he had found a hollow, grieving sort of strength that Voldemort couldn't handle.

"Yes, Voldemort has always underestimated the power of love," Dumbledore commented.

"Love?" Harry asked.

"I would imagine that Voldemort had not been able to handle your reaction to witnessing your mother's …" Dumbledore explained more, though stopped as Harry bowed his head. It was hard for Harry to talk about this as he could still remember clearly what had happened. "Then he underestimated the depths of the effect witnessing something like that would have on you, having never cared about anyone before."

"Right," Harry said, trying to move away from that part of the conversation. He continued talking about the confrontation with Voldemort until he started explaining the images that he had seen flash by in Voldemort's mind.

"Harry, I was wondering if I could ask you to give me this memory," Dumbledore asked as Harry struggled to describe what he saw.

"Er … I guess," Harry answered not sure what Dumbledore meant.

"It's a simple process, I'll just ask you to think about the vision you have just encountered," Dumbledore explained. "Once you do that, I'll use a spell to extract that memory so that I'd be able to go over exactly what you had seen."

"Okay," Harry said. "Can I see the memory too?"

Dumbledore looked thoughtful and then nodded his head, "that might be a good idea. You might be able to see more than I could by myself."

So then Harry thought about what he saw until he felt Dumbledore put the tip of his wand on his head and the memory sort of floated out of his mind. It was a weird sensation, he still remember having the vision, but the details of that moment seemed to disappear with the whispery smoke that Dumbledore was now moving towards his Pensieve. Dumbledore then gestured for him to come over and both he and Dumbledore went into his memory.

Watching the memory again was a completely different experience in the Pensieve with Dumbledore. The first time they watched it in normal speed, his mind taking in the memory and details like they had never left his mind. After they had watched all of the memories Dumbledore made them replay and slowed every one of them down so that they could take in every little detail. The third time they watched the memories Dumbledore asked Harry questions.

"Harry, do you remember what Voldemort was feeling when he was in this corridor?"

"Er," Harry said trying to think and he wondered if that had been taken from him when he had given the memory up, but it hadn't. He recalled almost immediately what Voldemort had been feeling while he walked up and down this corridor. "He was smug. He was about to do something …"

"Hm," Dumbledore said with a deep frown. "I believe this is the day that I turned Voldemort down from his request to work at Hogwarts."

"Voldemort wanted to work at Hogwarts!" Harry repeated, finding the idea of that appalling.

"Yes," Dumbledore said in a somewhat distracted voice. "I believed he had several motives that he wanted to accomplish by coming back to Hogwarts, and I had thought I had prevented him from fulfilling any of them. However, I might have been mistaken. This vision troubles me. Why would he be smug … and why would this moment be something that he recalled … especially along with the other memories that you were able to see …. What's so special about this corridor …?"

"Er … I don't know about most of those questions, but I think I know why this corridor is special," Harry said and Dumbledore turned to look at him, "this is where the Room of Requirement is located."

"Room of Requirement," Dumbledore repeated, turning his attention back to the corridor and the pacing form of a younger Voldemort.

Harry wasn't sure what Dumbledore was thinking about, but his mind was racing over this new development.

"This is a perfect place to hide something," Dumbledore said in a tired voice, "a room that can change into whatever the user wants."

"You think that he could have hidden one of his Horcruxes here," Harry stated, he was starting to think the same thing.

"Yes," Dumbledore smiled sadly, "it seems like we have a place to start looking and yet we still have a long way to go before we can figure out where this Horcrux could be … if it's even there at all."

Harry nodded his head and they went on to another vision. This one was just a flash that he hadn't even remembered seeing in his conscious thought. He couldn't even tell where they were, only that there were several expensive looking things surrounding him.

"Harry, do you know where this is," Dumbledore asked.

"A vault," Harry answered without thinking and then he frowned. A moment ago he had no idea where he was but as soon as the question was asked the answer came to his lips. He felt uncomfortable about how that had happened as his head throbbed slightly.

"A vault," Dumbledore repeated excitedly, turning back to the flash of a memory and pointing at the edge. "I believe this is Helga Hufflepuff's cup," and Harry saw what looked like a handle and the edge of what might be a cup.

"You think so," Harry asked, but he suddenly felt sure that Dumbledore was right, this was Hugglepuff's cup.

"Yes," Dumbledore nodded, "I have long since believed that Voldemort had used this cup as one of his Horcruxes. I believe we have just discovered where it is …"

"You mean it's in Gringotts," Harry said, as if he didn't think that was helping them find the cup very much.

"Yes, and it seems like we have another big undertaking for us to figure out," Dumbledore said understandingly. "However, if we look more closely into this memory …" he went on to his memory of Voldemort talking to someone about a Gringotts' vault. "Do you remember who Voldemort was talking to?"

"Bellatrix and Rodolphus Lestrange," the answer came out of Harry's mouth, but he didn't know where it came from. This was more than just a feeling; he felt like he was remembering things that he didn't know in the first place.

"The Lestranges," Dumbledore repeated thoughtfully, and his tone was excited. "I believe we have just narrowed down our search for the cup considerably."

Dumbledore then looked back at Harry and noticed that the boy was deep in thought, and that it didn't have anything to do with what they were looking at. "I believe we have had enough of looking at memories today."

Harry nodded his head, and felt himself being lifted out of the Pensieve and was back in Dumbledore's office.

"Harry?" Dumbledore asked softly.

"Why is the connection between Voldemort and myself so strong?" Harry asked. "My Occlumency didn't seem to work against him. Feelings … you said love … they're not supposed to be able to help against Legilimency …"

"Harry …" Dumbledore said gravely but he didn't stop to listen to whatever his headmaster was about to say. He was still caught up in his thoughts.

"And those memories … your questions … I didn't … they weren't from me," Harry muttered to himself. He looked up expectantly at Dumbledore, as if he thought Dumbledore would be able to piece together everything he just said and be able to answer a question that he didn't even ask. What he saw when he looked at his headmaster was that Dumbledore looked very concern and the color was drain from his face. There was a sort of standoffishness about Dumbledore as if he didn't want Harry to ask more, or to discuss this matter anymore. Harry felt as if he had a pit in his stomach and he knew he didn't really want to know what was going on but he couldn't stop himself from putting the pieces together.

Why did Harry's scar hurt when Voldemort was near? How was he able to see what Voldemort was doing since the beginning of his fourth year at Hogwarts? How was he able to see into the snake's mind so clearly? Even with Voldemort possessing the snake's mind, Harry had been the snake! Then Voldemort had come into his mind easily and his Occlumency was useless. That could be explained away easily, he wasn't the best at Occlumency and he knew it, but the fact that it was his feelings, his grief (or love) that helped finally break the connection didn't seem right. Voldemort should have been use to people he was using Legilimency on feeling grief or something similar, so why couldn't he handle Harry's feelings. It was because it wasn't Legilimency and Occlumency that was being used, not really. The connection was more based on their feelings than seeing thoughts and Voldemort couldn't handle the feeling that Harry had while he was grieving. However, it was going through the memories again and being able to answer questions that he didn't know the answer to moments ago, that made him feel the most unnerved. He felt like he was remembering things but he never experiences them in the first place.

"How are we connected?" Harry asked. "What is it that connects us?"

"Harry," Dumbledore said gravely.

"You know, I know you do," Harry said pleadingly.

Dumbledore didn't answer him, he just looked tired and as if he didn't want Harry to ask this question; as if the answer to it was something that Harry wouldn't be able to take. Harry's shoulder sagged, if it was something that Dumbledore didn't want to answer, then whatever it was, was the worst thing possible.

"Tell me," Harry said in a soft voice, but it was a demanding tone as well. He thought he knew what Dumbledore didn't want to tell him but he needed to be told. He couldn't be the first to say it out loud.

O

Harry had gone to the Quidditch pitch and he sat in one of the top stands looking at the scenery. It felt free and open looking at the Hogwarts grounds and he wanted to go flying through the air and disappeared into the open scene forever. Dumbledore had told him what he wanted to know and Dumbledore had been right that he didn't want to know the truth. He had been right too, it had been too late at that moment for him not to hear the truth, he had put too many of the pieces together and he would have been tortured by his thoughts anyways.

The desire to leave pulled at him as he walked back to the castle, but it was the thoughts of his friends and love ones that kept him moving forward. He could never go back to being ignorant again, but he could try to enjoy the time he had left with the people closest to him.

"Don't worry … I'm sure he's just outside getting some fresh air for once," he heard Ron say as he walked into the common room. "You know he hated being indoors for so long …"

"I know," Hermione answered, her head was resting on his shoulder, "we've just been so worried about him … and then hearing he was okay, but he wasn't anywhere …"

"Hey," Harry said, realizing they were talking about him.

"Harry!" they both said, quickly getting off the couch and giving him a hug. He hugged them back, grateful that they were there but he knew he couldn't keep the anxiety and misery from his face for long and he didn't want them to know what he was going through. This misery wasn't something he could share with anyone else; he had to bear it on his own.

Harry excused himself soon after that and went up to his dorm saying that he wanted to get more sleep. When he got upstairs he realized that it wasn't just an excuse, he was exhausted. It was a little early to go to sleep, but as soon as he was on his bed he was out.

O

"Harry?" Ron was shaking him awake.

"Huh?"

"It's Sunday morning," Ron informed him, and Harry realized only then that he had no idea what day or time he had woken up the day before. "I was just wondering if you wanted to go to breakfast or sleep in."

Harry realized that he was very hungry but he knew that he wasn't ready to be with his friends yet. "Sleep in."

"Okay," Ron frowned down at him. "You know if there's something wrong … anything … you can talk to me."

"Yeah," Harry answered but he wasn't about to say anything.

Harry was alone that day, going to the kitchen later on to get food from the elves and walking to the Astronomy tower so he could be outside and alone again. The next day he went through a normal school day routine, going to all of his lessons. He was so far behind that it had been easy for him to get lost in thought and as soon as he was his mind went immediately to his situation. He wasn't able to get his limited future out of his mind and he couldn't go back to how he used to be. He tried to act more cheerful during the times when he was around his friends, but he could tell that they were concern about him and not buying his false upbeat attitude. As soon as the day was over he rushed off so that he would be by himself again. He couldn't escape his dreadful thoughts when he was alone but he didn't have to think about being cheerful and failingly. He knew that he couldn't take much more of this, and realize that he couldn't handle this information on his own. He had to talk to someone and get his feeling off of his chest.

"Hey," Harry said when he got back to his dorm room.

"Hey," Ron said, looking at Harry worriedly. "I was just about to go downstairs and start on our potion easy," he continued to say holding up the book. Harry could tell that Ron was worried about him, but Ron wasn't about to push him to talk. "You probably need a lot of help to understand what was going on, you should probably come with."

"Ron … I …" he started, but he couldn't think of the words he needed to say. He knew that he would be incredible selfish if he continued talking, but he felt that if he kept quite he was going to break apart.

"Harry," Ron said. "I think you need to say whatever it is that's bothering."

"You don't want to know what I have to say," Harry blurted out. "You should leave …"

"Harry, whatever it is, you have to tell someone," Ron said grimly. "You look worse every day …"

"I can't tell anyone else this, Ron," Harry said pleadingly, he wasn't sure if he was pleading Ron to go and leave him alone or to say and listen to the horribly truth he know new.

"But you can tell me," Ron cut to the truth to Harry's meaning.

"You don't want to know," Harry repeated.

Ron gulped, he knew that Harry was right, but he couldn't turn his back on his friend, not when he knew Harry had to talk to someone. He gave Harry a determined look as he nodded his head.

"I'm a Horcrux," Harry answered in a cracked voice, "I'm going to have to die."