Disclaimer: Nothing is mine; everything is J K Rowling's.
New chapter!
Some of it's a little fluffy for my personal taste, but I'm not a particularly romantic soul so no surprises there.
I also posted the old, Iphone notes version initially. I apologise for that, this one's a bit better, not too different, but sort of padded out around the dialogue if you get what I mean. I'm tempted by the prospect of having a Beta to stop little things like this. It might also help deal with my typos and missing word issues, since I literally cannot see them when I check. It's like those stupid things you see on Facebook where someone removes every 'the' from a sentence and your brain just fills them in anyway because you expect to see them. Anyone have an opinion on that?
Chapter 18
There were pages and pages of notes on the subject. Much of which was in quite incredible detail. If Tom Riddle had not performed this himself then he must have witnessed it or found a reference from somebody who had. It was too visual and graphic for anything else to be true.
The portrait of Salazar Slytherin, returned to its resting place over the door, watched restlessly as he read through Riddle's neat writing at the desk.
'What have you found,' the painting demanded, unable to simply sit and watch as his heir read through something so important in front of him.
'The theory behind creating a horcrux,' Harry skimmed the next few sheets, 'and how it's meant to work.' It was not light reading. Harry did not know where Riddle had found this book, it had no place in Salazar's study, but he was sure it would not even find a place in the restricted section of the library.
'Tell me,' the founder commanded, peering down at the notes from above the door.
'They're created by using the side effects of the Killing Curse,' Harry began, thoroughly horrified at the implications of the magic he was reading about. 'Using the curse fractures the soul allowing a wizard or witch of sufficiently strong mind to tear a fragment away and place it within another object.' Harry read the excerpt from the book in a rather sickened tone, from what he had learned of souls from Salazar he understood how wrong this was.
'What type of object?' Salazar asked.
'It does not say, but I assume any, since the notes often mention things that don't work.' The notes had the horrible feel of trial and error to them, as if Tom Riddle had gradually accumulated the knowledge on these sheets of parchment by experimenting over and over again.
'So anything could be a horcrux.' Harry understood perfectly the solemn tone the portrait had taken. The anchor that was keeping Voldemort alive could be anything and anywhere.
'Yes,' Harry agreed. 'Once they are created they're supposed to be almost impossible to destroy, basilisk venom, fiendfyre and other very destructive spells are the only things capable of it. They act as an anchor of sorts. Riddle wasn't certain, but guessed that for a person to die the whole soul has to be disconnected from everything else. The anchoring piece would still be connected to the rest of the soul and bound to an object, hence preventing death so long as it exists.'
'All types of death?' Harry had had the same thought when he first read Riddle's analysis of why they worked.
'No,' Harry shook his head. 'The soul can only last as long as the rest of the person and while the book says body and mind can be physically replaced whatever causes them to degrade also affects the soul. An anchoring horcrux will slow the process, but not halt it.'
'So Tom Riddle will die of old age regardless,' Salazar mused.
'A very old age,' Harry pointed out. 'His notes suggest that having a horcrux could add half a lifetime onto his own, we don't know if having more than one compounds the effect, and powerful wizards and witches tend to live longer anyway.' He was pretty sure that Dumbledore had been alive for more than a century, and the headmaster wasn't looking like he was about to keel over.
'I wasn't about to suggest hiding until he died,' Slytherin responded acidly. 'Such behaviour is not acceptable for my heir. You will grow strong enough to defeat him, either in a fair duel or more cunningly. It's about time you acted like a relative of mine instead of charging off like a younger, less knowledgeable version of Godric.'
Harry turned over the last few pages, but there was only a reference to never entering the nothingness of the death and the words Lord Voldemort scrawled across the bottom of the page in uncharacteristically untidy hand. The final letter had almost completely vanished beneath an inkblot formed where the tip of the quill had been pressed so hard into the parchment it had snapped.
Without any clear evidence a horcrux had been made Harry resorted to checking the book that the notes had been found in.
What he found was both horrifying and terrifying.
Under the section entitled Horcruxes he found a brief note implying that a fractured soul would heal over time in the right conditions, but one that remained fractured could weaken and unintentionally fragment again. A shiver trembled its way down his spine, the hairs rising across his body.
'A soul that is fractured and remains unrepaired may weaken and, should it be put under further stress, fragment. Since the soul remains connected even after fragments are separated the pieces are likely to return to the original, but it is hypothetically possible that this could create a horcrux of which the owner is not aware. A bond may well form between accidental anchor and owner possibly resulting in either of the two developing an obsessive interest in the other or displaying similar characteristics and skills,' Harry read aloud. Every word he spoke into the cold study made him feel more sick and more afraid. It sounded too familiar, too similar to something he had already heard. The sharp icy fingers of fear had tightened themselves around his stomach, clenching to his core.
'Why did you read that out?' Salazar asked, there was enough evident concern is tone to indicate he was aware of Harry's distress.
'In my second year, when the shade of Riddle opened the Chamber and I learned that I could speak Parseltongue, I asked Dumbledore why Tom Riddle and I were so similar.'
The memory of the conversation was slowly turning his fear to fury and Harry had to swallow to control his rage as it surged within him. The hand of ice around his stomach melted as his fury at being lied to over something so crucially important and personal to him swelled into a crescendo. It was strong enough to taste. The tang of iron rage on his tongue was hot enough to set his words alight with vehemence.
'He told me that he believed I had absorbed a small piece of Voldemort's power when I was given this scar,' Harry hissed furiously in parseltongue. 'It was that that had made us similar, he said, and gave me my ability to speak to snakes.'
'He is wrong and he lied to you,' Salazar deduced, sparks shooting from his wand with an intensity Harry had not yet seen. The portrait's speech was completely distorted, wavering between Parseltongue and English as he raged, but attempted to control himself.
'My parselmagic cannot be passed on in such a way, it is imperative that you have my blood for the magic to work, and magical power cannot be absorbed in such a manner or there would be wizards killing each other to do so. He knows about the horcruxes, he knows that you are one, and he has always known.'
I am a horcrux. I am what is keeping Voldemort alive.
It made Harry even more furious, furious that Tom Riddle had done this to him, furious that Dumbledore had known what he was from the moment it happened and furious because of what it meant for him.
'I have to die,' he announced aloud in a very hollow tone. 'The diary is gone, when I am dead so will Tom Riddle be.'
Salazar scowled. 'I will not allow it,' he hissed, lapsing fully into Parseltongue. 'You are the Heir of Salazar Slytherin, not a sacrifice to be used by lesser wizards. We will find another way, or we will make one.'
'How many will have to die before we find one?' Harry asked, woodenly. His insides were twisted with despair and bitter resentment at how unfair things were.
'As many as necessary,' Salazar spat, still speaking in the tongue of snakes. 'We do not know how many of these horcruxes Riddle has made, your death may simply ensure his secret remains undiscovered.'
'I can't tell Dumbledore I know about them,' Harry realised. The old wizard must have known what Harry's fate was from the start. For whatever reason the headmaster had not told him. It did not matter that it could have been to keep him safe, happy or under the watchful eye Dumbledore, he had deserved to know something so important about himself. The headmaster should have told him, but he hadn't. Harry could no longer completely trust him.
'No,' the portrait agreed. 'You cannot. We can't predict his reaction once he knows you know. He may be searching for other horcruxes, or keeping you alive as long as he can, but the moment you become a liability he might kill you. Worse things have been done for the greater good.'
'I am not a match for Albus Dumbledore.' He wasn't even close to a match for the man most regarded as the world's greatest wizard. Harry knew only one who might be, Tom Riddle, and he was not a potential ally.
I will have to walk a path apart from either of them.
'I will think on this,' Salazar decided. 'Prop me up over the desk so that I can read the relevant parts of the notes. A solution may present itself.'
Harry lifted the painting off the wall above the door and leant it against the bookcase where it met the edge of the desk. From his new position Salazar could read all of the pages on the desk.
'Tempus,' Harry commanded, tapping his wand on his wrist.
It was a few minutes before eleven.
Katie.
Harry groaned. He had no idea what to do on a date. For a moment he considered not going and sparing her from being involved in whatever his life would throw at him next.
No, he decided. It is too cruel to her, I should give her the chance to make her own decisions, and if I am to die, I shall enjoy as much of my life as I can first.
The Marauder's map showed Katie was waiting for him at the entrance hall. It also showed Pettigrew by the quidditch pitch, but he put that out of his mind to focus on his date.
She had clearly put some effort into looking nice and for the first time Harry really noticed how cute she was. Katie had tomboyish appeal to her and even dressed up as she was you could see the sporty, scruffy chaser underneath.
Harry decided he was not adequately dressed and quickly ducked into a nearby archway to correct his appearance by transfiguring his creased robes into something more fitting. He attempted to fix his hair, but as always it proved futile.
'Harry.' She smiled when she saw him, a look of relief passing across her face. 'I was beginning to worry you weren't coming.'
'Well I am nervous,' he admitted, 'but not that much.' He was not nervous at all about his date, not anymore, it was the last thing he had to fear now.
She beamed and slipped her arm through his. It felt very strange to have someone so close, Katie was practically pressed against his side from thigh to shoulder, but it was a pleasant feeling.
'So where are we going?' Harry knew enough about dates to ask Katie what she wanted.
'Madam Puddifoots?' She seemed quite eager to go and held his arm more tightly while he tried to place the name.
'The place with all the pink?' Harry was sceptical. He didn't mind going if that was what Katie wanted, but fluffy pink and white lace didn't really seem her thing.
'Yes, do you mind?' There was a slight glint in Katie's eye, a warning.
'Not if that's what you want,' Harry said, trying to remember where the tea shop was. 'It doesn't really seem like your sort of place, though,' he added.
'Full marks, Harry,' Katie laughed. 'I wanted to see how you'd react, and you did very well, especially knowing me well enough to be sceptical.'
'So you don't want to go?' Harry was quite relieved. The tea shop had a reputation as being the stuff of nightmares in the boys dormitories.
'All girls like a little romance,' Katie smiled, 'but that's not my type. Let's go to the Shrieking Shack, we can meet up with Angelina, Alicia and the twins afterwards if you like?'
He nodded. It would take his mind off other things, walking would prevent him thinking as much as he could if he was sitting still, and seeing the Gryffindor Quidditch team would help with that as well. Harry had already decided that he would stick with his decision to treat Angelina and Alicia as if he had never met them. If the girls were willing he would befriend them all over again, but, unlike before, they would have to earn his trust. Harry had given it away all too freely when he first came to Hogwarts'. The sudden change in surroundings and promise of others like him had let him forget the reality of the wizarding world was only a little different from the muggle one.
Harry led the way to the Shrieking Shack, but only so far as having Katie's arm through his would allow.
'I love this place,' Katie beamed. 'Nobody ever dares come in, but it's so cool.' She looked around curiously, taking in the scratches and other marks that Harry remembered seeing at the end of last year. 'That's new,' she remarked, pointing to the dent Professor Lupin had left in the wall when Harry had disarmed him.
'Do you know the real story?' Harry asked. He was fairly sure that Professor Lupin wouldn't mind. Everyone knew his secret now, courtesy of Snape and Hermione, and telling a story was much preferable to just sitting around letting his mind run.
'No,' Katie exclaimed, 'everyone just knows it's haunted.'
'I can tell you, if you like?'
Katie brushed the splinters off the three-legged chair and gestured for Harry to sit on one half. He obliged and Katie took the other side, wrapping an arm around his waist to keep her balance.
'Tell me,' she all but commanded.
'A while back there was a student at Hogwarts who was a werewolf,' Harry began, trying to think of a way to leave the names out. 'Every full moon he would come here to transform, sneaking out of the castle using a secret passage.' He was wise enough to keep the entrance to himself; it would be a very bad start to his date with Katie if she were squished by the Whomping Willow. 'The werewolf was lucky enough to have three friends who did not care what he was and they decided, in order to help him that they would become animagi.'
'How would that help?' Katie asked, eyeing the claw marks on the walls with more interest than before.
'Werewolves are not dangerous to animals, remember, their bite only effects humans. The transformation is supposed to be very painful and so to keep him company they turned into animals and came here with him.'
'Did nobody ever realise?'
'I don't know,' Harry admitted. 'That's the whole of the story as I know it.'
'How did you learn about the place?'
'Do you remember Professor Lupin?' Harry asked gently. It had been common knowledge that he was a werewolf after his resignation came into effect, but Katie had not yet seemed to make the obvious connection.
'Yes,' Katie nodded, 'he resigned because... Oh,' she realised. 'He was the student.'
'He told me about it last year,' Harry explained.
'Who were the other three, then?' Katie asked.
'Sirius Black, Peter Pettigrew,' Harry endeavoured to keep his voice even at the name of the traitor, 'and James Potter.' His voice cracked at the last name and looked away embarrassedly.
'Your father,' Katie surmised sympathetically. She fell silent for a little while, clearly searching for something to say, then squeezed his shoulder and gave him a smile. 'Thanks for telling me the story.' Harry heard the unspoken gratitude in her tone for voluntarily telling her something that he knew would interest her, but might stir up less enviable feelings within him.
'I've come here almost every time I visit Hogsmeade,' Katie began after a moment of silence, 'but I never knew what it was actually for.'
'What did you think it was?' Harry knew that most students believed it was haunted with the prevalent theory being a more violent version of Peeves the Poltergeist occupying the building.
'I always thought it was a hoax,' Katie admitted. 'I never saw any ghosts when I came here.'
'Well, now you know,' he glanced down at the chaser, who was staring up at him quite cutely.
'It's good you're taller now,' she noted, tucking herself under his arm. 'You can keep me warm.'
'It is a little cold,' Harry agreed. November had only grown chillier as it reached its end and the Shrieking Shack, with its broken windows and gaping walls, had little in the way of insulation.
Katie beamed and shifted a little closer to Harry, but under their combined weight the gnawed chair leg gave way and pitched them both onto floor.
'We've broken part of one of Hogwarts' most iconic buildings,' Katie giggled, pulling herself up on Harry's offered hand.
'Professor Lupin won't mind,' Harry grinned. 'He started the demise of the chair himself.'
Harry surveyed the remnants of the chair as Katie carefully brushed the dust off her clothes. It was in four separate pieces and unlikely to ever recover on its own. He considered using the mending charm to undo the damage, but Harry really didn't feel like fixing it. It sort of felt that by repairing the chair he would be undoing the moment that broke it and he had quite liked sharing the chair with Katie. It had been a comfortable closeness that they had been sharing and Harry could not remember feeling anything quite like it before.
I could grow to quite like Katie, Harry realised.
'Let's go to the Three Broomsticks,' she suggested, 'there's nowhere to sit now.'
Harry nodded his agreement and they made their way back towards Hogsmeade's best pub.
It struck him that he hadn't even thought about Peter Pettigrew, getting stronger, the tournament or horcruxes since he had seen her. Harry smiled and his steps through the frosty ground became a little springier.
Katie waited only a few seconds after leaving before reaching out and taking Harry's hand in hers. For once Harry didn't mind or resist contact with another person, her hand was soft, and pleasantly warm.
They found Angelina, Alicia and the Weasley twins sitting round a table pressed against the side wall of the inn. It was as crowded as normal and Harry instinctively shifted a little closer to Katie and the reassuring warmth that seemed to emanate from her.
'All we need now is the keeper,' Angelina remarked as he and Katie pulled up a chair.
'It's a good thing Wood's left to join the big leagues,' a twin, presumably Fred since he was sitting closest to Angelina. After learning that the two girls were still holding a grudge for them swapping places on the last double date he doubted that they'd do it again.
'Indeed, brother mine,' George replied. 'He'd be outraged.'
'He'd be the only member of the team not dating another team mate,' Fred snickered as Katie disappeared towards the bar.
'We'd get a very long lecture about squad relations and then he would have forced us all to be married so we couldn't separate and harm the atmosphere of the team.' Harry laughed, a little grateful Katie had not been next to him to hear that. She was almost two years older than him and it might not seem like much now while they were at school, but he guessed a few successful dates and a year or so later might make some differences seem greater. Katie might start to think about the future as she left school and took the next steps in life. A career, a husband, a family all came after that final set of exams, hovering in the back of the head as a reminder of everything that was to come. Harry only considered it vaguely, being fourteen it was all a long way off, and he wanted a family some time in the future, but it seemed rather early in life or his relationship with Katie to be thinking about anything like that. It made him more than a little nervous.
'I got Firewhiskey,' Katie grinned when she returned to the table, three small glasses clutched in either hand.
'How'd you manage that?' The Weasley twins looked on in awe. Harry had absolutely no doubt that they had tried to get hold of the liquor here on more than one occasion.
'Well the drinking age is seventeen,' Katie shrugged, 'I might only be sixteen, but I'm sitting with two sixth years who might be overage and I guess they just assumed I was two.'
'What about Harry?' Fred asked. 'He's an ickle fourth year.'
'He's not ickle,' Katie defended, then flushed scarlet when Angelina and Alicia burst into giggles. Harry rather felt he had missed something.
'They never asked,' Katie continued, still blushing furiously. 'I guess they assumed that if he can defeat a Dark Lord as a baby he can manage alcohol.'
'Are you sure you can manage him, Katie?' Alicia teased. Harry didn't need any of the emphasis on the word manage to realise what they had meant before and meant now. He really had no idea how he was supposed to react to innuendo, but he wasn't going to flush like Katie was. That seemed to just encourage them. He kept his mouth shut and practiced the mind-clearing techniques that were the basis of occlumency; it was a surprisingly effective way of keeping his mortification from showing.
I might need the Firewhiskey if they keep this up.
'I guess I'll be keeping this, then,' Katie threatened, passing a single whiskey glass to Harry and each of the Weasley's, but keeping the other three for herself.
'We'll behave,' Angelina promised. 'Harry doesn't want to see a drunk Katie on his first date.'
'It would put even the most lovesick of suitors off,' George agreed.
'I remember when Alicia was given a whole case of elderflower wine because the shop lost her ordered bottle and the three of us drank it on New Year's Eve. I took the candle you stole from the Great Hall and you got so angry you tried to transfigure me into a goblin.' Angelina was in stitches before she finished her telling, gasping the words out through a fit of giggles.
'I didn't,' Katie denied, 'I only threatened.'
'No,' Alicia laughed harder, 'you tried very hard, but you were using a breadstick from the kitchens instead of your wand.'
'You were certain that it was your wand,' Angelina remembered, having recovered enough to regain the ability to speak. 'Alicia ate it in front of you and you burst into tears because you thought you'd never be able to do magic again.'
'I did not,' Katie repudiated rather weakly. 'I don't remember doing any of that.'
'Of course you don't,' Alicia smirked, 'it was a thirteen bottle case and you drank seven of them. You fell asleep in the middle of crying about your breadstick and we had to carry you back to bed.'
'Never let her drink, Harry,' Angelina warned, 'she's very funny drunk, but an absolute disaster to deal with. We've a hundred more stories from that night alone.'
'Well keep them to yourselves,' Katie sulked. 'Or I'll keep the whiskey for myself.' She looked very cute she sulked, Harry decided. Katie pressed her lips together and curled them inwards as she frowned. The expression was quite heart-melting.
'Go ahead,' Angelina challenged, calling her bluff.
Harry's date did not even hesitate. She lined up the three glasses and drank them down in three distinct gulps, placing them in a neat row in front of her and beaming happily at her friends.
'Uh oh,' Fred and George intoned together, 'we're in trouble now.
'Fire whiskey is potent stuff,' Fred explained at Harry's puzzled glance. 'It's meant to give you a buzz no matter now much you drink, but the more you do the stronger and longer the feeling.'
Harry gave the three empty glasses a nervous look. 'Don't worry Harry,' Katie chirped,' if you can't beat 'em, join 'em.' She pushed his glass towards him as the Weasley's linked arms and exuberantly drank their own.
Harry eyed the amber liquid with suspicion. He had never actually drunk real alcohol before. Nobody considered butterbeer alcoholic when you had to drink a lake of the stuff to get even the slightest tingle.
'It doesn't hurt,' Katie reassured him. 'You'll feel great,' she added a little dreamily.
Harry raised the glass to his lips and emulated his date in drinking the entire thing in a single gulp.
It felt like he had swallowed napalm. The inside of his throat was burning and he had to wonder if this was how his dragon from the first task felt when it breathed fire.
The burning faded swiftly and with it went any form of unease and discomfort he felt. The crowded room no longer concerned him, the fact that he was touching Alicia's foot with his own toes was not important and the warm feeling of Katie's thigh pressed against his own no longer came with a flutter of nervousness.
Harry decided he quite liked Firewhiskey.
'See,' Katie beamed, shifting close enough that her whole body from knee to shoulder rested against Harry.
'How long does this last?' Harry asked, luxuriating in the warm tingle he felt throughout himself.
'An hour or so for you,' George told him, 'a few more for Katie.' That was good. The effect, pleasant thought it was, would have worn off completely for him by the time they needed to leave Hogsmeade. Katie would probably only be slightly affected once the two hours were up.
'We should head towards Honeydukes,' Alicia reminded the older three. 'Fred promised us chocolate and Lee is probably waiting there by now.'
They rose and squeezed out past Harry who for once felt no urge to flinch from their sudden proximity.
'Keep her cheerful,' Angelina warned good-naturedly, patting him on the shoulder as they passed. 'Katie's an extremely emotional drunk, but lovely as long as she's happy. Let her get upset or angry and there's no telling what she might do.'
'Of course,' Alicia added, 'being Katie and being drunk means just about anything could upset her. She once cried for ten minutes because she dropped her sandwich when we went to the kitchens after celebrating Lee's birthday.'
'I'm always happy,' Katie declared with confidence that could only be born from alcohol.
'Thanks for the whiskey, Katie,' the twins laughed together as they left. She nodded in reply and leant her cheek onto Harry's shoulder.
'Let's go wander,' she suggested, slipping an arm about his waist and trying to lift both him and herself without having to move away from him.
Harry pushed himself up from his seat, staggering slightly when his movement coincided with one of Katie's insisted tugs and he overbalanced.
'Where shall we wander?' he asked her as they left the inn.
'I don't mind,' she beamed, her arm still around his waist. Harry certainly didn't mind. He was busy enjoying the abundance of warmth that he felt. Next to Katie he was somebody. The tingle of the whiskey, the touch of the sun and the heat of Katie's arm and side against him told him that with utter certainty.
I don't want this feeling to ever end.
AN: Please read and review, thanks to those of you who have and keep doing so.
P.S. The first part of this chapter really isn't fluffy at all, but luring you all in expecting fluff right away and giving you horcruxes instead amused me. I will also add that while the pace of things will gradually continue to increase a little, there will not be some ludicrous jump off the back of Harry's realisation. I have something in mind I haven't seen yet and I quite want to try it. You always see either complete ignorance and last minute escapes, or narrow victories when all seems lost from main characters and while they are an enjoyable and indispensable part of any story it might be nice to branch out.
P.P.S. This note (now amended since it didn't come across as I intended) Nobody who spends a lot of their time reading things without speech in uses some of the more informal contractions (ones like 'we've', 'could've' etc) when they speak, so it's the same for those of my characters who fit that profile. It's a habit you pick up from always reading and thinking in terms without such contractions, hence why Harry, Hermione and other very well read characters won't use them. I can personally attest to that as I never use contractions like those anymore. I hope that makes sense!
