Chapter Two

No blinding light of understanding flashed in Draco's eyes. "So? What's a Horcrux?" The word was vaguely familiar to him, but he couldn't recall where he had encountered it.

Harry's eyes widened, and, unbidden, a smile formed on his lips. The irony of the situation didn't escape him. That confession had been the most difficult he had ever had to make --and the person to whom he had confessed had no idea what he was talking about.

Draco blinked. Harry had never smiled at him before. It unsettled him.

"It's a long story, Malfoy," said Harry after a moment. "You don't have to waste your time. Just don't tell Ron and Hermione, and we can forget any of this ever happened."

"Even if I agreed not to tell your friends, Potter -- which is highly unlikely --you have no guarantee I won't tell them someday."

"Except your word."

"The word of a Malfoy?" Draco's tone was laced with mockery.

Harry looked at him. Quietly he said, "What else can I do?"

Draco met his eyes. They were almost startlingly green behind those glasses, clear and direct. He had grown used to people, like his father and the Slytherins, who always had a hooded look in their eyes. "Listen, Potter, I've been there. I recognized the bloody potion because I almost used it once myself. I don't know what a Horcrux is, and I don't care. It's damn selfish of you to even consider killing yourself, especially since the entire wizarding community kept the Dark Lord from doing it for you."

"Selfish?" Fury crept into Harry's expression."You have no idea what you're talking about."

Draco shoved one hand into his pocket and felt around for his wand, just in case the Gryffindor was so angry he decided to do something stupid. "Then explain it to me, Potter."

"It's a long story," Harry repeated.

"Give me the short version."

Harry hesitated. When he finally spoke, his tone was resigned. "You're asking for it, Malfoy. Fine. But let's go back into the bathroom, because I'm not talking here."

The two seventh-years silently walked back into Moaning Myrtle's bathroom. Giving Draco a wry glance, Harry locked the door behind him. "I wish I'd thought of locking the door earlier."

"No, you don't," Draco said seriously.

Harry looked down. "You really have gone through this, haven't you?"

And you really don't want to kill yourself, do you? So why are you doing it? But Draco kept his questions to himself. Harry would be answering them soon enough.

Harry spoke in a monotone, as though that would tone down the gravity of his words. "Voldemort -" Draco flinched and instantly regretted it, but if Harry noticed, he gave no sign of it. "- can't die because he cut up his soul into seven pieces. He placed each shred of his soul, and I use the term 'soul' loosely, into seven different objects. The only way to kill him completely is to destroy each of the seven parts of his soul."

Dracowas impatient."The Dark Lord is dead, Potter. Bloody hell, it was you who killed him."

"One portion of Voldemort's soul is still alive," said Harry.

Draco froze, finally getting an inkling of what the Gryffindor was telling him.

Harry busied himself picking up the shards of broken glass that still remained scattered on the floor. By then the potion had completely evaporated. "Each object which contains a portion of Voldemort's soul is called a Horcrux," he said.

The silence was defeaning.

Harry debated on whether or not to slash his wrist with one of the shards of glass, then decided against it. Too long a death. And he truly didn't think he could manage to stab himself in the chest.

At last, Draco spoke. "I think you should talk to Granger."

Harry's head shot up. "No! She'll never let me do it."

"She can't stop you, Potter." By now Draco,recoveredfrom Harry's stunning revelation, had regained his air of arrogance. "I say you ask her for a solution that doesn't involve your death, and if she can't find out what it is, then there isn't one. Then you can kill yourself when she's not looking."

Harry stood up. "That's actually not a bad idea."

"Don't souind so surprised. We Malfoys have always been ridiculously clever."

"Devious is more like it."

Draco smirked, but it lost some of its bite because of his relief that Harry was insulting him again. Like everything was normal.

"Okay, that's what I'll do. But don't ever tell anyone what I told you."

"I thought we'd talked about Malfoys and promises."

"I'm serious, Malfoy."

Draco considered for what seemed like eternity. Then he gave a short, brusque nod.