Chapter eight is here! I love this chapter. I think this is the best chapter in this fan fiction. I sort of went a bit depressed while I wrote this chapter, which you will know why when you've read it. Read and Review. Enjoy.

CHAPTER EIGHT

VISIONS OF DEATH

The moon was painted white on the sky as Harry, in Lupin's office, was facing the dementor shaped Boggart. Harry knew, as he struggled to maintain his wand so that his patronus would keep the boggart at bay, that the dementor he was seeing wasn't actually real, but rather just a manifestation of his fear through the ability of the boggart to shape shift. He still knew, of course, that boggarts can copy to a certain extent the abilities and nature of the thing it has assumed shape of and as of now, he was feeling the bittler coldness creeping into him.

He stretched his right arm, holding the wand, and the other one, holding the locket, near to the boggart. His arms were aching in protest as the cold wind started to billow through his robes. The lights were starting to grow dimmer, flickering by the walls that held them. A peculiar buzzing was resounding in Harry's ear as he mustered all his might to keep his position, knowing that if he failed to maintain his stance, the boggart may overpower him and he might pass out much like when he was still in his third year.

Ron and Hermione now were clutching each other. They were holding hands, frightful of what they were seeing. As much as they wanted to help Harry, Lupin looked at them comfortingly, telling them that everything will be okay. Harry though, did not feel this comfort as he stood before the boggart, its frail bony fingers trying to swipe the white stag coming out from Harry's wand.

In and out they went in his head, his parents' voices, shouting on top of their lungs to protect the baby Harry. His father's shouts of "He's coming Lily! Get Harry and go!" and a final scream of death as the Avade Kedavra curse took away James' life. Then, his mother's footsteps were heard inside Harry's head. They were frantic footsteps, running towards the infant Harry, cuddling the baby while facing Lord Voldemort. Harry, distracted by these voices in his head, was growing weaker. He felt as if it was his soul being taken away, not the one residing in the locket.

Suddenly, instead of sounds and voices, he now saw a mental picture of the final moments of his parents life. The boggart's dementor abilities were becoming more pronounced now so that not only sounds of Harry's darkest moment—his parents' death— could be heard by him but there was also a visual sequence of James' and Lily's final moments, all playing like a movie clip in his mind.

He saw how James was running towards a room where Lily and a crib was standing by a wall. James face was pale and horror struck. At the sight of James' expression, Lily knew that Voldemort has found their hide out. She quickly looked at a sleeping baby boy in the crib and looked back at James, who was now rushing towards the door shouting "Lily, you go take Harry and escape. I'll hold Voldemort off!" Lily though didn't move, only answering in a feeble voice "How about you!"

"Don't worry about me," replied James. "All that matters is you take our son out of here."

"But when will I see you again?" asked Lily as she started to get the sleeping boy out of the crib and into her arms. "James, when will I see you again?" she asked again since no answer came from her husband.

"I don't know, honey. Honey, I have your wand here with me okay. I lost mine," replied James as he stood bravely by the door, the shadows of the night painting his face black. Lily then started to get the baby's blanket and covered him with it. The rain outside started to pour, pounding the roof like a thousand hammers combined. With the pounding of rain came the sounds of footsteps from outside the front door. James, at the sound of the footsteps, shifted his stance and clutched his wand tighter, his palms sweating, knowing that his ultimate sacrifice for his family was going to happen very soon.

Suddenly, as a bolt of lightning struck the heavens and the drums of thunder echoed through the vast, cloudy night sky, a beam of light came from the key hole, producing a click. The door, now unlocked, then opened with a bang and standing between the door frame was a pale wizard with slit-like eyes. He was wearing a cloak of black, rippling back and forth by the howling stormy wind. Lily, hearing the door open, started to run out the room and through the hallway but as she arrived in the hallway, James was screaming "Go Lily, not through this way!" Voldemort was of course, blocking the door so Lily, clutching a sleeping baby, had to escape through another way. She knew she was never going to see her husband again.

"Through the window Lily! Quick! Get Harry and get out!" screamed James as Voldemort now faced him. James was raising his wand, ready to cast a spell when Voldemort raised his own wand. Lily ran back to Harry's room and placed Harry on the crib again, heading towards a window and prying it open with her fingers. The window was stuck as she tried again and again. She was letting out sobs as she tried and tried to twist the lock that disabled the window from sliding open. Suddenly, she heard a man's scream—her husband's scream. She knew her husband was dead and Voldemort would soon be in the room, ready to finish them all.

Lily still tried to open the window, knowing that the life of her son was in her hands. Voldemort's footsteps now were coming closer to the room in which Lily and her son was in. She was still in the window, her fingers bleeding form trying to open the latch. If she had a wand, this would have been an easy task but James used her wand for his was lost. She knew she was too late. She couldn't open the window. All she did was return to the baby's crib and carry the baby in her arms.

"Harry, darling," she started to say to the baby in her arms, "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."

Warm tears were dripping from her eyes, dropping to the sleeping boy, waking him up. The footsteps from the hallway were starting to grow louder.

"Harry," said Lily again, her sobs more pronounced. "I'm sorry for failing to protect you." She held the baby boy's head, caressing it, leaving blood stains on the boy's hair due to her bleeding fingers. She kissed the baby as the footsteps from outside grew louder still. "I'm so sorry," Lily said yet again, hugging the baby again."

The footsteps, now very loud, suddenly stopped. Voldemort was now inside the room. Lily, facing back from the Dark Lord, turned her head and saw Voldemort's red eyes. She did not turn her body, trying to protect her son form any spells that the Dark Lord may cast on them.

Knowing that she could only do one thing, Lily started to plea for her son's life. She spoke out, putting strength into her frail voice and said "No! Take me instead. Don't take Harry!" she said, her frail voice starting to grow softer and softer. "Take me instead!"

Voldemort, after hearing Lily's pathetic pleas, laughed a hissing laugh. He then walked towards Lily, her back to him, and raised his wand. "Who said I only wanted to kill Harry?"

Lily started to shake. She knew she had to protect Harry with all her might but if she dies, her son would be left alone, defenseless against the Dark Lord's powers. She then closed her eyes, hugging Harry by the crib, and accepted the fact that she was about to die, as well as her son. At least, she thought, at least they would all see each other soon in death. She bit her lip and hugged her son tighter, waiting for the moment of instant death to claim her. With a quick flash of green light, she let go of her son, crying now in the crib, and collapsed on the floor, her green eyes wide open but lifeless.

The baby was crying. Voldemort looked at the baby boy and raised his wand. With a quick flick, a green light emitted from his wand and hit the boy's forehead. A pain struck Harry's forehead as the images in his mind disappeared, returning him back to Lupin's office. This time though, he was lying on the floor with Hermione, Ron, and Lupin around him. The locket was beside him, as well as his wand. The cold floor by his cheek, he breathed heavily. He then sat up, asking them what happened.

"You passed out" said Lupin. "I would expect so, too, as that was the longest time that you've been exposed to a dementor, and in such close proximity. Even though that was just a boggart, the dementors abilities still reek from it."

"Why did the plan not work?" asked Harry. "The dementor didn't go for the locket. It just concentrated on me."

"Well, dementors have always had a fondness for you" said Lupin, with Hermione and Ron sitting by him, still shaking from nervousness over Harry.

"But why? I mean everyone would feel the dementors effects but why do dementors concentrate on me?"

"They are very attracted to souls, Harry. Maybe you have a very strong one… or a special one."

The days went on and every night, Harry would dream about what he saw during his encounter with the dementor-shaped Boggart. He would dream of his parents' final moments, their unbearable sacrifices filling his nightly sleep.

One Tuesday morning, the sun rose up on a cloudless sky and while at breakfast, Harry, together with Ron and Hermone, started to discuss about what to do now tot the Horcruxes.

"We are stuck. We don't know what to do," whined Ron. "We don't know how to get rid of all of them, we don't even know where all of them are!"

"Would you stop it, Ron!" said Hermione as she wiped her Head Girl badge until it gleamed. "We need to be positive. What did Dumbledore say again, Harry, about the Horcruxes?"

"Well," started Harry. "He said that one of them is the locket, the other would be the Nagini, one is Hufflepuff's cup, and something of Gryffindor's or Ravenclaw's"

"Nagini's dead," said Hermione. "The Muggle Minister's eye is the new one. About the Gryffindor or Ravenclaw thing, did Dumbledore mention more about it?"

"No. Why?"

"It just occurred to me. I mean if Nagini was a Horcrux, it is quite possible that this other Horcrux could be alive."

"You mean it could be a person?"

"Yes. A Gryffindor or a Ravenclaw."

Harry then went silent. He just realized something. Something that would be unbelievable yet so plausible. It was as though Dumbledore was there again, helping him out to solve something unknown once again.

"Harry?" said Hermione, noticing his peculiar silence. "What's wrong?"

"Didn't it occur to you that we might know who this person, this Gryffindor or Hufflepuff student could be?"

"No. You know who it might be?"

"Yes. It just occurred to me. It could be me, Hermione."

"You've gone mental!" piped in Ron. "How could that be?"

Hermione understood Harry though. The way that Dumbledore always said about how Voldemort transferred some of his powers to Harry that night Lily and James died. The way Harry could speak Parseltongue. The way Harry and Voldemort shared the same wands and the way they both excelled in Defense Against the Dark Arts. They were practically the same person. Harry sat silently, looking at Hermione's terrified face.