Chapter 15

After morphing into his 'work' form Harry apparated to the little seaside town and used legilimency on a few of the locals to determine where exactly the cave was; in a small town like this the incident with Tom Riddle was likely to be talked about even now, and it was. Even the younger residents would speculate on what happened and how three children even got down there.

When he apparated to the cliff face into which the cave was burrowed it was just how he had seen in the memories of the muggles – jagged black rock and waves that crashed and swirled powerfully against the cliff face with several overhanging outcrops in the rock that he used to descend down towards the shadowed fissure that frothed with white water. What the memories couldn't prepare him for, however, was the sense of blackness that seemed to pervade his senses the closer he got until he could almost taste it in the air. This was definitely the place.

With slight reluctance Harry dropped into the water and felt all the heat being sucked from his skin before he began swimming into the cave, keeping one hand raised above the water and casting sensing charms in case there were any traps. There were none, and again he was baffled by the lack of security Riddle had put around pieces of his soul. It would have been the perfect place to put any traps as well; the intruder would be unable to move quickly or even use their wand if they did not have it already in their hand.

When he pulled himself from the freezing water and hastily cast drying and warming charms he found himself in a large cave, each of the walls shining eerily in the small amount of light that trickled in from the outside. He knew this was not his final destination though, it was merely the ante-chamber. He could still feel magic. He spent several minutes examining each of the walls, brushing his fingertips across the rock until he came to a stop in front of a stretch of wall.

After casting detection charms for a few seconds he frowned slightly and began casting every detection charm he knew in several languages only to come to the same conclusion he already had. There was a blood payment and that was it. No password, no charms, no wards and no curses. Literally anyone could give some blood to get through to the point Harry would hardly call it a protection, so what was the point of it?

It was crude and could hardly be said to weaken the intruder when a healing charm would remove any damage. He could have used wards to prevent anyone but him entering and curses to kill anyone who attempted, so why hadn't he? Granted, wards and curses could be removed but it would at least provide a challenge like there had been protecting the ring. The question still remained, and Harry spent several minutes stood stock still in thought, unwilling to fall into a trap Riddle had left behind.

The only possibility Harry could come up with was that Riddle would not want those searching for his horcruxes to die immediately; he would want to know how they knew about them, how they had found out about the cave, if they knew of any others and if they had told anyone else. That would also apply to wards and curses meant to incapacitate – if ever he was a wraith as he was now he would be unable to do anything about them, and they would die of either starvation or dehydration eventually. With a blood payment he had a sample of the intruder's blood and then a ritual would tell him exactly who had been there. It was actually quite well thought out, and it explained the absence of traps on his way in.

But then he had used both lethal and non-lethal wards and charms to protect the ring, so Harry was only guessing at best. He knew Riddle was a psychotic madman but even then he was being far too inconsistent for Harry to be in any way comfortable.

Obviously Harry wasn't just going to tell Riddle who he was and that he was hunting horcruxes, so he left and returned a while later with a vial of blood from a particularly unlucky wizard in Knockturn Alley. Harry rather amused himself with the fact that the wizard he had stunned and taken blood from was a death eater, albeit a lowly one. Riddle would go crazy at the thought of one of his own minions betraying him and torture the man into insanity in an attempt to get information out of him. Obviously he knew nothing and Harry had removed the memory of getting stunned from the man's mind to make sure, but he thought that it was nothing less than a death eater deserved.

Once he smeared the blood across the wall the rock vanished into thin air to leave an archway into a vast cavern, lit only by the greenish light that seemed to reach sinisterly outwards from an island in the middle of a vast lake. The ceiling was so high and the banks so far away that they melted into the shadows so that he had no idea how big the cavern actually was, but he was sure it had been created with magic. The light from the orb that floated in Harry's palm lit a narrow path that wound around the edge of the endless black lake that held an unearthly stillness, but the light did not penetrate the darkness as far as it should, as if it were somehow denser than it should be. The whole cavern was unnatural and made his hair stand up on end.

He could taste foulness in the air, but it was not as overpowering as he would expect being so near to a horcrux which made him apprehensive, but he put it off to Riddle masking it in an attempt to make it harder to find – the magic Harry could feel would likely be unnoticeable to most wizards. He hadn't masked the stench of the ring, but he had made that one at sixteen. Maybe he just didn't know how at the time and hadn't bothered going back to do so. Still, it made Harry more than a little uneasy.

As he walked he felt a slight spike of magic, near unnoticeable against the constant tide in the cavern but still, it was there. After taking a few steps back he began waving his hand slowly through the air, feeling slightly foolish as he did so until he felt a spectral chain slap against his palm. With a tap of his wand against his fist the tangible nothingness became cold copper and began sliding through his fist, coiling on the ground with a clink that sounded far louder than it was in the silence of the cavern.

After a few seconds the bow of a tiny little boat broke the surface, the ripples caused by its appearance seeming to disappear before they even formed. Harry began waving his wand at the boat, unwilling to get in it unless he knew for sure that there were no curses on it. He was sure that there was something lurking in the depths of the water and he didn't want to have to deal with whatever it was.

Once he had determined that the boat was only charmed to carry only one adult wizard he stepped into the boat which immediately began to move of its own accord towards the glowing island in the centre of the lake. As the boat cut silently through the still water the light of his palm illuminated a pale face lying motionless just below the surface of the water, their eyes open and misted. Inferi, and probably hundreds of others. That made Harry slightly tense; he knew how to deal with inferi and it seemed to be relatively easy – Fiendfyre would do the trick quite nicely – but he had never actually seen one before, and he had no idea if Riddle had made any additions. He clearly wasn't shy about immersing himself in the magic of death.

Eventually the boat bumped lightly against the island and he stepped out and onto the flat expanse of dark stone that was no bigger than his office at home, empty but for a basin that was stood on a pedestal. Both seemed to have been sloppily carved from a single block of quartz from which the greenish light stretched and he slowly approached and peered into the basin. It was full of an opaque green potion that seemed to pull light towards it as quickly as it pushed it out, a potion that he recognised.

It was called the Elixir of Anguish, a potion that made the drinker experience delirium, agony, extreme thirst and paralysing fear. When he had read about it he had blanched at how it was made and what it was made with; forcefully taken unicorn blood, Acromantula venom and even human tears. He considered using Fiendfyre and just destroying the potion along with the horcrux, but then he wouldn't know what the horcrux was. That would just make it harder for him to find the rest if he wasn't sure exactly what he was looking for – there would be no point looking for Hufflepuffs cup if he had already destroyed it.

After several minutes of trying he accepted that the potion could not be vanished, summoned, siphoned or made to change its nature in any other way, shape or form. It would have to be drunk. At least the only condition on the boat was that there could only be one adult wizard. He knew Petunia had kicked the bucket a few months before, finally, but he didn't think Vernon had yet. Hopefully he hadn't now that Harry had a use for him, and a rather fitting one at that. Absentmindedly he called for a house elf to see if Vernon was still alive, and he was about to kick himself for thinking an elf could apparate in when one appeared with a crack.

He spent several seconds staring wide eyed at the newly arrived house elf who was glancing at the basin in fear, and then he started laughing. Riddle hadn't even thought of house elves had he? That fool! If a house elf could apparate in then Harry doubted he had done anything to stop house elves doing anything else. He might not even need to force feed Vernon the potion anymore, unfortunately.

"Tippy, can you vanish the potion in that basin?"

With a nod she did so, and immediately inferi began clambering from the depths. Hastily Harry twirled his wand and a ring of fire burst into existence and he grabbed the locket from the basin before Tipsy apparated them back to his office with a crack. As soon as she did so Harry was inspecting the locket, but still it felt normal. Just like any other regular locket. That was when reality hit and he cursed loudly – this wasn't the horcrux. It was a fake.

Angrily he pried the locket open and a small slip of parchment fell out began to drift slowly towards the floor before Harry caught it.

To the Dark Lord
I know I will be dead long before you read this but I want you to know that it was I who discovered your secret. I have stolen the real Horcrux and intend to destroy it as soon as I can. I face death in the hope that when you meet your match you will be mortal once more.
R.A.B

Harry groaned. He couldn't just trust that the horcrux had been destroyed, he had to be absolutely sure it had been, and to do that he had to work out who RAB was. For the next few days and weeks he trawled through death eater interrogations and auror reports for any mention of someone with the initials RAB, but found nothing. The title of "the Dark Lord" in the note suggested RAB was a death eater, but there were far too many lowly or suspected death eaters that were used as cannon fodder for him to check every one so he had focussed on known and suspected members of the inner circle. If someone found out about Riddle's most closely guarded secret it was likely that they would have been close to the monster himself.

Eventually he grew tired and aggravated of spending hours reading reports filled with useless questions and equally useless answers, so he gave up and decided to look more into Tom Riddle's childhood now that he had something to go on. But first he thought it was time to write Tonks a letter. He had dealt with his feelings – mostly – and it had now been almost a month since she found out he was alive. Besides, he was getting lonely now that Anaïs was gone. The nightly mirror calls really weren't enough.

~Scene Change~

She was annoyed. Yes, she got that he needed time after hating her for so long and it had taken her a few days to fully accept he was alive, but did he really need a month? It had been the most agonising month of her life, being exceptionally happy but not able to show it much else people would ask and she would have to lie. She wasn't even a good liar either. That had made the weekly dinners with her parents awkward with them pestering her to find out the name of her new 'boyfriend', something that made her grimace slightly – everything she knew and every memory she had of Harry was from when he was five, thinking of him romantically was downright strange. She hated having to lie to them as well, but she could tell Harry had been serious when he said he would wipe her memories. Truth be told he had scared her slightly, but she had decided that was just because he was angry. This was Harry, he was no monster.

Just then an unfamiliar black owl swooped through the open window and perched on the back of the chair next to her, a letter attached to its outstretched foot. At first she had gotten excited at every letter that came hoping it was from Harry, but that excitement had faded back to normal by now. As soon as she had untied the letter the owl flew back out the way it came, clearly not expecting a response.

This letter is a portkey, say "alive" to activate it. It will take you to a location where a house elf will pick you up and bring you to me.

H

She nearly squealed as she quickly glanced at her watch: 17:54; plenty of time to go and get back in time for work in the morning. Even if there wasn't she would quite happily miss work for this. The portkey deposited her in an utterly random clump of trees in the middle of nowhere, a house elf appearing with a soft crack as soon as she had. Without warning the elf grabbed her arm and apparated her to the same room she had spent a night trapped in a month before with Harry sat in the same chair he had before. She had the momentary fear that the barrier that kept her away from him was still there.

"No, the barrier is not still there but still give me space. I don't really like most people touching me." He said, gesturing slightly to the seat across from him.

"Understandable," she muttered to herself quietly, but clearly not quietly enough as his face stiffened minutely, and when he spoke his voice was level and unnaturally clear.

"So you know?"

"I know that you were… mistreated, but I don't know exactly how. I was starting to learn legilimency so I could find out but they went insane before I could. I guess karma got them in the end." She said before she noticed the sinister smile on his face before it melted back into a blank expression. It reminded her of the smiles on the faces of the particularly disturbed individuals she had had to watch until they were put on trial. She chose not to ask him about it.

"You really don't want to see it."

"Is this your house?" she asked, there being something clear in his voice and body language that the previous subject was closed.

"It is my house but not my home." He said, but elaborated when she just looked mildly confused, "It is my house but I don't live here."

"Where do you live then?"

"I'll consider answering that when you give an oath not to tell anyone any details about me including that I'm alive, be it directly or through writing, implying or otherwise hinting. It will also mean that no one can view these memories through legilimency."

It felt like he was mocking her, and the fact that he didn't trust her felt like a punch in the gut. But then, why would he, she asked herself. The only memories he had of her were from when she was seven years old – he had no idea what she was like now, though she was willing to bet he had looked into her before he even told her he was alive.

Her occlumency was good enough, but it wouldn't keep a talented legilimens out and certainly not a master like Dumbledore. If she didn't give the oath then he might just cut her out of his life again, and that was something she wasn't willing to risk happening.

With some reluctance she gave the oath, and from then on he felt slightly less tense. He was still far from comfortable and she had done most of the talking, but he had always been quiet and after so long by himself he was unlikely to be any better now even without the awkwardness of the situation.

Most of time she had talked about her own life and auror training, at which she thought he had restrained an eye roll. She had also told him what little she knew of his brother's exploits even if she had left halfway through Jack's first year, but Harry had just said "He's not my brother" and then continued to listen silently. He hadn't even looked surprised about Voldemort apparently being a wraith and had looked rather bored by the fact that Jack Potter had fought with Quirrell before Dumbledore arrived before Jack could get himself killed. Not even once did he show anything more than mild interest in the fact that the man who had tried to kill his brother was still alive and had tried again, and this time nearly succeeded.

When she had mentioned the Potters she quickly realised that she shouldn't have, his previously mild expression instantly twisting into a hateful snarl that he quickly got under control to leave his face blank but for the black rage that simmered behind his eyes. She had never seen someone with more hate in them. Had he had the same expression before when he thought about her?

She had tried to convince him to tell Sirius, but his response had been the same flat "I'll think about it" every time until she had mentioned Sirius and his wife had named their daughter after him. He looked a strange mixture of touched and confused when he heard it, and after that his response had changed to a much more hopeful "maybe". She counted it as a win.

Not once had he referred to her by name though, even going as far to word his sentences awkwardly to avoid it. She didn't expect him to call her Nymmie like he had when he was five, but she had hoped he would at least address her directly. It was early days, she told herself, they would work on it.

She had tried to find out who the 'most important person in his life' who had persuaded him to speak to her was, but he had refused to tell her and said that maybe she would meet her at Christmas. He had looked so happy with a fond smile and bright eyes when she asked, and she felt a momentary flash of jealousy that this mystery girl could make him so obviously happy when she had failed to produce anything more than a wry smirk all night.

When finally she got home it was gone eleven and she crawled into bed quickly and took a sleeping potion, knowing that otherwise her mind would whir away all night analysing every little interaction to try and work Harry out. He was extremely good at saying something which at first seemed like he was letting her in only for her to realise she had hardly gained an inch, and there was something about his demeanour that was different to every other witch or wizard she had ever met. It reminded her in some ways of people who had fought in the war yet went completely against them in others. She couldn't work out if it was good or bad, and until she found out what exactly it was she had no way of deciding.

~Scene Change~

Wool's Orphanage. Tom Riddle had grown up in an orphanage, despite his father still being alive. Maybe that was what "mark him as his equal" meant – it was Riddle's actions that had led to Harry being abandoned by his family just as he himself had been.

The only problem was that almost everyone who could have told him what Tom Riddle and his childhood had been like was dead – the matron, the two children from the cave and several other orphans who had been there at the same time Riddle had been were all deceased with no clear cause of death. Harry knew what it was, obviously; the Killing Curse. The fact that they were all dead worried Harry slightly. Clearly he was hiding something and was willing to go to great lengths to do so, but Harry hoped it was the fact that he was a halfblood who had grown up in the muggle world rather than another horcrux location. If it was then he had no way of finding it.

He had guessed that maybe he saw Hogwarts as his first home and would have hidden a horcrux there, but had found nothing. If Riddle were to leave a horcrux at Hogwarts he wouldn't have left it somewhere just anyone could find it and that just left the Chamber of Secrets as a possibility, but he had searched every inch of it several times and come up empty. That was the only theory he had so far, and he was struggling to think of anywhere else a psychotic halfblood orphan would hide pieces of his mutilated soul.

He now knew more or less what Tom Riddle's life had been like up until he left Hogwarts, but after that was a complete blank. No records whatsoever and not even a whisper until just a few years before the first war really kicked off. Harry assumed he had travelled the world to learn as many forbidden magics as he could; it was doubtful he would have remained quiet all those years. But that gave him no leads on horcrux locations or objects beyond what he already suspected, something that was beginning to drive him mad after spending most of his time looking for weeks.

Nymphadora's description of the wraith from Jack Potter's first year told him Riddle would soon be making a move to return to a physical body, as had the fact that Jack Potter had mysteriously been entered into the Triwizard Tournament. She had gotten off her rotation at midnight on Halloween and had used the portkey he had given her to come straight to his property in the Pyrenees; it was the only one she had seen so far. He had been awake and had portkeyed there too, only for her to start talking at him as soon as he appeared. Apparently the boy had paled when his name was called out and the Potter parents had paled almost as much. Harry supposed that they were terrified, their first son 'dead' and now it looked like their much more important son could follow suit.

Frankly Harry was a bit surprised the tournament was even being held and even more so that it was still being held at Hogwarts after the attack at the World Cup. He supposed had he not 'intervened' it wouldn't be, but as most politicians were idiots they would likely look at the numbers and decide that the British security forces had performed admirably to keep the number of deaths as low as they had been despite the number of attackers. In reality that number would be astronomically higher had Harry not happened to be there and had that stray curse not happened to have come close to Anaïs, but the British ministry would never admit that.

She had clearly been expecting some sort of reaction to the news that his birth brother had been entered into a tournament that had been cancelled for centuries because all the participants died, but she was to be disappointed. Harry didn't care about Jack Potter beyond the fact that he was a still a child. Harry was more focussed on the why.

Most people would think that it was an attempt to kill the Boy-Who-Lived, but Harry wasn't as stupid as most people. There were so many simpler, easier and less suspicious ways to kill someone than entering them into the Triwizard Tournament, anything from a cursed object or poisoned drink to simply cursing them in their sleep. No, this was not an assassination attempt. But if it wasn't then the purpose of entering Jack Potter escaped him, a fact which irritated him no end.

He had even asked her if there was anything off with Moody who was teaching at Hogwarts for the year, but she had said he was completely normal and even made a few references to things that happened during her training. It was a long shot, but if Riddle was somehow giving commands then impersonating Mad-Eye Moody was one of the best ways to have an agent in Hogwarts all year. Hogwarts students would naturally pay more attention to the visiting schools so impersonating any of them would be risky, but any strange or suspicious behaviour on Moody's part would likely be attributed to the man's legendary paranoia. But no, it was the real Moody. Harry had cursed inwardly at that; someone must have just gone in, put his name in the goblet and left again. He really would have to do something about the Hogwarts wards at some point.

All Harry could really do was wait and see what happened while he searched for horcruxes in the meantime, and take a few jobs here and there to stop himself dying of boredom. He still loved to work, and now that Anaïs was enjoying herself at Beauxbatons there wasn't much else for him to do. He had underestimated how much time he spent with her and how much he would miss her; he had assumed that after being alone for so long he would easily be able to slip back into it, but he hadn't.

Nymphadora had been continuously pestering him about telling Sirius he was still alive but he had so far refused. She had been his best friend, but he had seen Sirius as a parent. He had no need for a parent anymore, and certainly no desire for someone to try and tell him what he could and couldn't do. He had been looking out for himself since he was dumped with the Dursleys when he was five years old, he didn't want or need anyone else pushing in where they weren't needed and that was surely something Sirius would try and do.

There was also the issue of Sirius's job, something which made him adamant that he was not going to tell him that he was alive. But even despite that there was still the want in his chest – Sirius had been a massive part of his life, the only person who he had considered family that had actually wanted and looked for him. Anaïs wanted him to tell Sirius just so she could meet both him and Nymphadora and even he was unsure of exactly why she wanted to, but he had looked into him nonetheless if for no other reason than to reassure himself that not telling him was the right decision.

He reread all the scathing interviews in newspapers from when he 'died' which he had before thought an attempt to save face. Everyone knew how close he and the Potters were, if he hadn't said anything everyone would have assumed he supported their decision. He had looked into his wife, the businesses he had invested in and his voting patterns on the Wizengamot before he appointed Andromeda his proxy, but then he found something that rendered all his objections irrelevant.

Sirius had a dead brother, Regulus Arcturus Black. RAB. Regulus's name had never come up as a suspected death eater but the Blacks would have gone to great lengths to keep it secret in case Riddle lost just as they had with Bellatrix before she started attacking people openly. Harry was sure it was him that had stolen the horcrux.

As he was dead there was no way to just ask if he had destroyed it and he was a Black, and the Blacks were as paranoid as they were powerful. They likely had countless properties and hiding places that he would have no way of knowing about, and if Regulus were unable to destroy the horcrux then he would likely have hidden it somewhere even Voldemort would be unable to find it.

That left his only option letting Sirius in, not only telling him he was alive but also telling him about the horcruxes. That was something he had not been planning to divulge to anyone, but he would have little choice. He would put that off as long as he could though, and would explain asking about the locket as simply searching for his ancestor's heirloom. He hadn't been planning to tell anyone he had Slytherin blood either but it was a much smaller secret than the horcruxes. The chances were Sirius would eventually see through the lie, but it was a risk he would have to take.

~Scene Change~

Finally, he had agreed to tell Sirius he was alive, though she got the impression that it was more from annoyance at her asking than any actual eagerness to do so. He had only agreed under the condition that she got him there and made him swear the same oath she had before he came, and even then his decision to allow her to bring Sirius in had come out of nowhere. She wondered if the mystery girl had anything to do with changing his mind or at least hastening his decision. There had been times where he seemed to desperately want to see Sirius, but others where seeing him seemed more like an unavoidable hardship. It confused her, but most of what he did confused her too. Harry was a living, breathing mystery.

Their relationship had slowly grown since she found out he was alive, but it was still not much more developed than a muggle might have with their neighbours. Harry was extremely cautious and closed off even after several months and in the brief stretches where he let his guard down slightly it was clear he had very little idea of how to socialise. But he still let her come to the cabin in the mountains and talk at him for a few hours when she could, and he seemingly liked it judging by how he continued to allow her to come.

He had started using her name by now as well, even if it was her full name. He knew she hated it but he still used it, obviously knowing she wasn't going to tell him not to, and used it as an extra little way to get back at her. She still had to do much of the talking, though he was beginning to talk more even if most of what he said was inconsequential and told her little about him. She still didn't know where he lived, what he had done for ten years or even what family he had blood adopted in to. Pretty much the only thing of any importance he had told her was that he had mostly learnt magic by himself, but had several tutors to help him.

The biggest reaction he had given in weeks was when she told him about the first task that had taken place a few days prior, and even that was severely muted compared to most people. Finding out Jack had summoned a broom and only just managed to avoid being burnt to a crisp by the dragon was met with a hint of disbelief before he called him an "idiotic Gryffindor" with clear derision heard in his voice, which confused her somewhat considering he had never been subjected to the Gryffindors at Hogwarts. He had looked disappointed by Krum's inelegant solution and Diggory's somewhat lacklustre performance but had looked mildly impressed by Fleur Delacour's effort, muttering to himself that he always knew she was a powerful witch. Tonks had considered whether she was the mystery girl, but the smile that wormed onto his face whenever she came up had been absent when he heard Fleur's name.

But maybe Sirius would open Harry up a bit further, though if he tried to be in any way parental she was willing to bet Harry would either shut back down or curse him.

She stumbled out of the floo and into Sirius' elegantly decorated entrance hall, barely staying on her feet as she cursed inwardly. It was one of the consequences of her metamorphmagus abilities that she was never completely sure where her centre of gravity actually was, but Harry didn't seem to have that problem. Yet another thing about him that confused her.

"Nymphadora, what are you doing here?"

Supressing a growl at her full name, she turned to face Sofia who was stood in the doorway with amusement dancing in her eyes. Sirius had told both his wife and his daughter how much she hated her full name and they had called her that ever since, the insufferable man. At least Sofia hid the fact she was doing it to annoy her, Harriet would say it and then gleefully watch for any reaction.

"Is Sirius in?"

"He's in his office, has been all day. What do you need?"

"Oh just to show him something. I think he's going to love it, but it's a secret." She said with an exaggerated wink as she attempted to mask her nerves. There was no way in hell that Harry would let Sirius tell his wife.

"You know where it is. I need to deal with Harry," Tonks heart sped up slightly, "She's being particularly excitable today. Come by more often, okay? And bring your parents." Sofia said with a soft smile before walking in the direction of the kitchen as Tonks began to weave her way through the corridors towards Sirius' office.

Sirius' office was much like that of any other powerful pureblood with dark wood, comfortable chairs and a vast desk that dominated the room, only Sirius also had colourful muggle paintings that clashed horribly against the rest of the office and his bookshelf held muggle novels instead of valuable tomes. It summed up Sirius rather well.

"How ya doing, Nymphie?" he asked with that irritating grin on his face, "What brings you to my humble abode?"

"I would hardly call it humble, Sirius," she said dryly, "But there's something I need to show you, but you have to swear an oath first."

Sirius suddenly looked defensive as soon as she mentioned an oath and his ears even seemed to straighten like a dog's, his hand edging for his wand. She sighed slightly before shifting her hair through every colour and shade she could think of before settling back on her usual pink.

"For Merlin's sake Sirius, I wouldn't even be able to get past the wards if I wasn't me. I had to swear the oath as well so don't worry about it, just do it."

Sirius looked caught for a few seconds before he raised his wand with a sigh and swore the oath from the parchment on which she had scribbled it as Harry dictated it to her. It was exactly the same as hers but Harry was far too cautious to even think about her telling him from memory, even if she vividly remembered every second she had spent with him ever since he came back from the dead.

"Fine, now what is it you want to show me?" he asked warily.

"It's not here, obviously," she answered as she pulled her portkey from her pocket, "hold on to me and you'll see."

Once he grabbed hold of her arm she activated her portkey and they appeared in the same sitting room she had been in when she found out with Harry sat quite calmly in one of the chairs. At least he looked calm, she was never sure what it was he was actually feeling. He was in his base form and she raised an eyebrow at him until his features reluctantly shifted into what Harry Potter would look like at eighteen. Sirius gasped and his wand shakily snapped up only to be yanked from his hand into Harry's waiting palm. She hadn't even seen him move and his expression remained blank as his features rearranged themselves back into their natural state.

"I thought I told you to disarm him."

"This is Sirius, I didn't think he'd try and curse you!" she retorted sarcastically.

Harry had to stop his eyes rolling as he again wondered what went on in the average witch or wizard's head. She didn't think he would curse someone who, as far as he knew, was impersonating his dead godson. Some people were far too trusting. He turned his attention to a pale faced Sirius, but who was showing far from the gaping surprise that Nymphadora had. Instead he was staring at him with an uncomfortable level of scrutiny, as if the secrets of creation were scrawled invisibly into his cheeks.

"You're dead." He said flatly, but it was not in the same flat voice that Harry used when he wanted to give no clues as to what was going on inside his head. This was the voice of a man who had so many emotions swirling inside that not one of them could elevate itself above the others.

"Blood adoption."

It took a few seconds for Sirius to grasp what he was saying and then he surged across the room towards Harry only to be frozen in his place with a twitch of Harry's fingers.

"There is only one person on Earth that I allow physical contact from and she is not here right now, so kindly stay back."

Another twitch of his fingers lifted the spell and Sirius stumbled slightly before retreating somewhat shakily. Tonks was staring wide eyed at him, completely blindsided by his seeming cold disregard. He hadn't seen the man for thirteen years; he wasn't completely sure what she was expecting. Surely she hadn't expected a tearfully joyous reunion after she had spent so many hours with him? Besides, this small act had a purpose; when people were off balance they gave away more than they usually would, and he had a horcrux to find.

"Now before I fill you in on everything Nymphadora knows-"

"You've hardly told me anything!"

"-I have a question I need answered." He continued ignoring the interruption, "Before he died your brother took something that belonged to my family and I want it back. Where would he hide something if he wanted no one to find it?"

"I don't know, when we were kids he would have never needed to hide anything – he was my parents' perfect son." He said with more than a little derision seeping past his dazed confusion, "And I left when I was sixteen and stayed with Potter and his parents, so I wouldn't know where he would hide something. What did he take?"

"Did Regulus have a house elf?" he asked, ignoring Sirius's question entirely.

"Not a personal one, but he was always Kreacher's favourite. Evil little elf, not sure if he's still alive."

"Call him."

Both Sirius and Tonks looked utterly bewildered by his tenacity, but Tonks also looked intrigued. Maybe she would finally find out what family he blood adopted into.

"Kreacher!"

With a crack a decrepit looking elf appeared, its back hunched and wearing only a dirty rag as it muttered bitingly under its breath. It had a bulbous snout like nose and blue eyes that were bloodshot and filled with loathing as it looked around the room before they settled on Sirius.

"Oh, the blood traitor calls for Kreacher. He broke my mistress's heart with his fraternising with the filthy mudbloods, a disgrace to the Noble house of Black. What would my poor mistress say if she saw Kreacher serving him?" Kreacher croaked as he stared hatefully at Sirius, who returned the look in equal measure.

"Kreacher," Harry said and the elf turned to face him only for his muttering to start anew, but Harry quickly cut him off.

"Regulus had a locket. Where is it?"

At the mention of Regulus the hateful snarl faded from his face, and at the mention of the locket the elf began to wail.

"Oh, Kreacher tried! He tried to complete Master Regulus's orders but he couldn't, he couldn't destroy the locket! So many powerful spells and none made even a mark! Kreacher was sure that he needed to open the casing but he couldn't do it, he tried and tried but he couldn't!" he moaned as he started bashing his head against the floor.

"Kreacher stop." Harry said loudly, but the elf continued to punish himself and only stopped when Sirius repeated the command. When he rose from the floor his face was bruised, tears were pouring from his eyes and a mixture of blood and snot was dribbling from his snout. Harry had rarely ever seen a more pitiful sight.

"Do you know where the locket is?"

Kreacher nodded tearfully.

"Bring it here. I know what it is and I know how to destroy it, you can watch me do it."

The old elf didn't even bother looking towards Sirius for permission before he popped away and reappeared bare seconds later with a loud crack, the locket held at arm's length with an expression of disgust on his face. House elves were more attuned to magic than most wizards; he could likely feel the noxious stench rolling off the locket in waves just as Harry could, and judging by the expression on Sirius's face he likely could too. It looked like he was going to have to tell them about the horcruxes sooner rather than later. Both his and Nymphadora's eyes widened when they saw the small emeralds that twisted to form a snake like S on the lockets casing.

As soon as Kreacher reappeared Harry petrified both Sirius and Nymphadora and grabbed the horcrux from the elf's wrinkled hand and led him outside. Once the door closed behind him he threw the locket on the floor and flicked his wand into his waiting palm, quickly raising a few silencing charms before he cast Fiendfyre, the agonised screams of Riddle's soul music to his ears after so many weeks of fruitless searching for the damn thing. He still had three more to find, four if Riddle had made seven horcruxes and not six as Harry hoped.

When the screams ceased he looked down to see Kreacher with tears of joy flowing down his shrivelled face as he looked at Harry adoringly. It made him quite uncomfortable as the elf prostrated himself in front of him, crying about how pleased Master Regulus would be. A flick of his wand lowered the silencing charms and another one vanished the dust that was all that remained of another piece of Tom Riddle's soul before Harry told Kreacher to "go home and make Regulus proud of the state of the House of Black", hoping the mention of his beloved master would jolt him into leaving. After another reverent bow the elf disappeared with a crack and Harry sighed silently as he thanked Merlin that none of his house elves were like that.

The relaxed slump of his shoulders only lasted a few seconds before he started walking back towards the cabin where both Sirius and Nymphadora were frozen in their seats for what would likely be a very difficult conversation. Luckily it wouldn't be a particularly long one; he would just be repeating what he had told Nymphadora, which wasn't much. He had decided that he would show them who he was after they had met Anaïs, and in his head he told himself that it was because that was just the best time to do it as it gave Sirius time to get used to him being alive, but subconsciously he had chosen then because he wanted them to see the human before they saw the monster.

The moment he removed the body bind Nymphadora spoke up, a sharp note of horror in her voice.

"You blood adopted into the Slytherin family? How did you even do that if there hasn't been an Heir of Slytherin except You-Know-Who in centuries?"

"No, I did not blood adopt into House Slytherin but I do still have Slytherin blood. And how can Voldemort possibly be the only Heir in centuries? Obviously one of his parents and their parents and their parents' parents had to have been an Heir otherwise he wouldn't have been one." Harry replied, again amazed by how deeply ingrained the fear of Riddle was in the psyche of the British wizarding world to the point that they forgot to use their basic intelligence. He would have reluctantly given Riddle credit for that if the British wizarding world did not forget to use their intelligence about everything else as well.

They both stared at him and Sirius seemed to be mentally trawling through the pureblood lines he had been forced to study as a child only to come up empty. Harry was willing to bet that he would search through books as soon as he got home, but none of them would show the Nightshade family having any relation to the Slytherin family.

The conversation that followed was much like the ones he had had with Tonks and contained the same information despite Sirius attempting to weasel more out of him. He had an ability to word his questions in such a way that would make most people slip and give more information than they had wanted to without even realising it. Harry didn't fall for it, obviously, and had been expecting it anyway; to someone in Sirius's line of work it would likely be almost second nature by now to approach every conversation like an interrogation.

A few hours later he handed Sirius a small metal disk identical to Nymphadora's that would be his portkey to the cabin, inlaid with several nasty little curses to stop him trying to work out where exactly it took him or from extracting Harry's magical signature.

"I'd like to remind you that your oath prevents you telling anyone anything at all about me, including the locket and my relation to House Slytherin. The consequences of attempting to do so would be… severe. I would also advise you not to attempt to find out where exactly this property is and who it belongs to."

Sirius looked slightly anxious by the sense of sinister foreboding that dripped from his words despite their mild tone, the warning sounding much more like a threat. Harry tossed his wand back to him which he caught handily and flicked back into the holster on his forearm.

"I must say I was somewhat disappointed by your slow reactions, Sirius. Hesitation is an often deadly mistake in your line of work is it not?" he said, and Sirius's eyes barely had time to widen before he was expelled by the wards.

AN: I really struggled with this one, especially the dialogue and stuff so this chapter took me ages to write and I'm still not completely happy with it, but it's the best version after rewriting it about 5 times. The emotional aspects I feel like don't fit perfectly and Harry's doesn't seem as consistent emotionally as I'd like but that might just be me after rereading it so many times. But it's better than the other versions I wrote at least. And I know Harry seems like a bit of uncaring, cold bastard right now but there is a reason for that. As always reviews are appreciated.