Author's Notes: Hello all, I'm jumping ahead to start this chapter, which begins just after Heather has used the Felix Felicis potion to convince Slughorn to give her the memory.
Harry Potter belongs to JK Rowling, I'm just borrowing his world.
Chapter Twenty
Heather raced down the seventh-floor corridor, not caring that it was well after midnight. The Felix Felicis had worn off by now, but thankfully she came across no teachers between the Fat Lady's portrait and the stone gargoyle that guarded the entrance to Dumbledore's office. "Toffee éclairs!" She shouted at the statue, which sprang aside to reveal the rotating staircase. Heather knocked quickly and pushed the door open before Dumbledore could answer.
"Merlin's beard, Harry. This is late for a call." He was sitting in the ornate chair behind his desk and looked exhausted.
Wordlessly, Heather held up the small vial that Slughorn had given her not quite half an hour ago in Hagrid's cabin. All evidence of tiredness left Dumbledore as he sprang to his feet and retrieved the pensive. Carefully, his blackened hand shaking, he dumping the contents into the basin and swirled it with his wand.
"Quickly, Harry" he said grabbing Heather's arm and putting his face into the misty substance.
They found themselves standing in Slughorn's office of the past, half a dozen young boys smiling at the older man who was rooting around in a box of crystalized pineapple. As the boys left, Riddle hung back, Marvolo's ring prominent on his finger. As he had in the tampered memory, the young Voldemort asked Slughorn about something called horcruxes, though this time no white smoke blocked the answer he got. When they emerged from the memory, Dumbledore began to pace, muttering to himself.
"Sir?" asked Heather when Dumbledore had been silent for five minutes.
"Oh, I'm sorry Harry. This memory confirms everything I have feared since you repeated Voldemort's words to his Death Eater's on the night of his return."
"So, you think he managed to create a horcrux?"
"I am absolutely sure of it, Harry. You yourself brought me proof of that four years ago." Dumbledore said, and extracted from a drawer in his desk a filthy black diary with a large hole in both covers. On top of that was set a small ring with a black stone. "These," said Dumbledore, "Were two of Lord Voldemort's horcruxes before they were destroyed. I would have to venture a guess that by now he had completed the ambition he fostered on the night he asked Professor Slughorn about the advisability of splitting his soul into seven."
Heather sat in silence as Dumbledore began to speculate on what the remaining Horcruxes would be. Slytherin's locket and Hufflepuff's cup were likely, as they knew both had fallen into Voldemort's possession. Beyond that, they could only speculate that the remaining two pieces of soul, not counting the one still remaining inside Voldemort's restored body, were mostly likely hidden in something of Ravenclaw's and Nagini, Voldemort's pet snake. As the only known relic of Gryffindor's was the sword hanging in it's case beside Dumbledore's desk, it was doubtful Voldemort had managed to acquire something from each founder to make into a horcrux.
"Now, Harry, I have one last question for you before you depart." Dumbledore said, sitting again behind his desk and peering intently at Heather. "When I picked you up from your aunt and uncle's this summer, you will remember that I asked you about the name you had chosen for yourself. I would venture to guess that you have been wondering why I have not been using that name to address you this year."
"Err-well perhaps, sir." Heather replied, caught off guard by the change of subject.
"I would like to apologize for that. While I am unwilling to call Tom Riddle by his selected name to his face, I wouldn't want you to think that I felt the same way about anything you chose to call yourself. May I ask who else knows this truth about you? You are of course at complete liberty to tell me that it is none of my business. I hope however that you are willing to trust me with this information, as there is a reason I ask."
"Hermione, Ron, and Ginny Weasley," Heather began. Dumbledore nodded as if to say "naturally" but did not speak.
"Mrs. Weasley found out this year, so did Madam Pomfrey. Oh, and Justin Finch-Fletchley."
"Anyone else?" Dumbledore asked.
"Not who know for sure, sir." Heather replied
"And is Heather who you are becoming? That is to say, you intend to spend the rest of your life as Heather?"
She nodded.
"Then, that is if you don't mind taking my advice one more time, I would caution you to tell no one else this truth about yourself, not yet. There may come a time soon where your new identity can shield you in ways you don't yet realize."
"Sir?" Heather asked, very confused.
"Unfortunately, I cannot say any more than that at the present, Heather. Please head my words however. And now, it is late and your bed is calling for you. I will send word if I discover anything else might help you in defeating Lord Voldemort."
He stood and held open the door for her. "Professor, do you think I could come along the next time you find a horcrux?" she asked on a whim, sure he would say no.
"Yes, Heather. I do believe that would be a good idea. Now, to bed with you.
As she dressed for bed the implications of what he had told her stuck in her brain. What did Dumbledore know that she wasn't telling her? "Probably loads of things." She whispered as she fell asleep.
Her mission to get the memory from Slughorn finally achieved, Heather woke the next morning with a renewed determination to figure out what Malfoy was doing. Meeting Hermione and Ron to walk down to breakfast, they swapped stories of the events of the night before. Ron and Lavender had finally broken up, something which Hermione seemed extremely pleased about. Lavender had taken exception to seeing Hermione and Ron, apparently alone as Heather had been under her invisibility cloak, come down from the boy's dormitory. In what had been a very public row, Lavender had ended their relationship amid torrents of tears and yelling.
Hermione then went on to say that Ginny had finally broken up with Dean. Heather hadn't told anyone about what had happened with Ginny in that broom cupboard, and merely acknowledged the news without comment.
As they entered the Great Hall, they saw a small crowd gathered near the far end of the Gryffindor table. Katie Bell was standing there, surrounded by her friends and well wishers, having just arrived back this morning. She was just in the middle of retelling the story of what had happened, the little she remembered, when Heather, Hermione, and Ron reached her. With her return to school, Dean no longer needed to fill in for her on the team, something he didn't take to well.
The Ravenclaw Quidditch match was almost upon them. If Gryffindor could win by three hundred points, which Heather judiciously reminded herself was a long shot, they would win the Quidditch Cup even after their disastrous loss to Hufflepuff. With Katie back and McLaggen gone the team flew better than it had all year. As the pre-match tension filled the castle, the usual taunts and jeers flew back and forth. Heather reveled in the taunts and jeers flung at her. Ravenclaw had a decent team, but somehow, she wasn't able to take the intimidation from them quite as seriously as she did from Slytherin.
Three days before the match however, and plans Heather had about leading her team to victory died. Pulling out the marauder's map after a lesson, she saw Draco Malfoy standing in a bathroom two floors up, with Moaning Myrtle. Curious, Heather made her way to the toilet and slid inside. Malfoy was leaning over a sink at the far end of the room, his shoulders shaking with sobs. Myrtle was hovering next to him, her ghostly hands trying to pat him on the back, which of course she couldn't.
Suddenly Malfoy looked up and caught a glimpse of Heather in the cracked mirror. His face going pale, he whipped around, pulling his wand from his robes. Heather's reflexes moved without conscious thought, bringing her own wand to bear on Malfoy.
"Cruci-" began Malfoy, but Heather was faster.
"Sectumsempra!" she cried.
Instantly large gashes appeared on Malfoy's chest, as though he were being slashed by invisible swords. Blood poured from the wounds and he collapsed onto the water covered floor, which was quickly turning red. Myrtle screamed and soared from the room, loudly shouting "Murder! Murder in the bathroom!"
Heather rushed to Malfoy, trying to think of anything that Madam Pomfrey had taught her that might help. She began tracing her wand over the wounds, muttering the spell for mending cuts. The wounds tried to heal but whatever spell she had used now resisted her efforts. With a loud bang the door to the bathroom flew open and Snape swept in.
"Get away from him, Potter." He barked, and Heather backed away quickly, her robes covered in watery blood.
Snape pulled out his wand and moved it across Malfoy's body in much the same way that Heather had tried, but whatever spell Snape knew it worked better than hers had. Blood began to drift back towards the body it had just escaped, separating from the water. When the wounds were closed, Snape conjured a stretcher and guided the unconscious Malfoy from the room.
"You stay right there, Potter." He said, his voice full of venom.
Heather remained rooted to the spot, to afraid and stunned by what had just happened to even think of defying Snape. The former Potions Master was back quickly. As Heather had expected, when she tried to lie about where she had learned that spell, Snape used occlumency to bring a mental picture of her potion's textbook to the front of her mind.
"Go get your books and bring them to me. All of them" Snape said icily.
Sprinting from the room, Heather had to think quickly. There was no way she could hand over the Prince's book, all of her credit in Potions this year would disappear. In the Gryffindor Common Room, ignoring Hermione and Ron's shocked exclamations about her being covered in blood, she snatched up Hermione's textbook and shoved it into her bag. A quick detour had her in the Room of Requirement, which thankfully opened for her, searching for a place to hide the book.
Down rows of shelves stuffed full of the secrets of previous Hogwarts students; Heather searched for a good hiding place. At the end of the row was a battered cupboard and she shoved the book inside, marking it with the bust of an ugly warlock, and topping it with an old wig and an ugly tiara so she could find it later.
Snape was waiting for her in the bathroom when she returned, breathing heavily from running up and down several flights of stairs. One by one he extracted her books until he got to Hermione's copy of Advanced Potion Making. She had had the forethought to rip out the fly page which had Hermione's name written under This book is the property of, something that Snape noted, running his finger along the tattered pieces of paper sticking out from the binding.
"Is this textbook yours, Potter?" He asked
"Y-yes" Heather said, still gasping for air.
"Are you quite sure?" Snape asked, his voice so soft it was hard to hear.
"Yes, sir"
"I think you are lying, Potter. I think that for this heinous act you deserve to have detention with me. Therefore, you will report to my office this Saturday, and every Saturday after that until the end of term. Do you agree?"
That would mean missing the quidditch match, "No, sir. I don't."
A cruel smile crossed Snape's mouth as he slammed the textbook back and shoved it into her arms. "Well, we'll just have to see how you feel after your first detention, wont we." With that he swept from the bathroom in a whirl of his black robes, leaving Heather feeling very depressed.