The Weight of the Truth

'A Horcrux…' Repeated Harry searching his memory. The word was familiar… Somehow. And yet he didn't remember where he could have read it of heard of it. 'No, I don't know what an Horcrux is, Sir.'

'A Horcrux is an object where one can embedded a fragment of their soul. A memory of their own person, if you see what I mean,' said Salazar with a twinkling gaze. 'It can be used for many purposes such as lasting through time.'

'Is this what you are… a Horcrux,' Harry said through his breath. 'I have never heard of this…' Something was wrong. He couldn't understand the point of desiring immortality as he didn't want it. However, he knew about wizards who had sought it. One wizard in particular, Nicholas Flamel. 'But then,' he continued, 'why isn't this magic not widely used?' He asked. 'Why would wizards and witches go as far as creating something like the Philosopher's Stone to survive through time instead of just… producing an Horcrux?'

'Finely observed, young man,' approved Salazar. 'To answer your question, we must consider two… details about the process of creating this type of artefact. Surely you can understand that something that valuable must come at a great price?' Harry nodded. 'Well, let me tell you about it. You can create as many Horcruxes as you want. But for each one, you will lose a fraction for your soul.'

'So, for those who wish to achieve immortality,' said Harry slowly, 'you could create several Horcruxes to make sure you survive if one of them is destroyed?' As Salazar had explained to him, his memory was of the same kind as Tom Riddle's. The diary had been an Horcrux. The puzzle was assembling in his head. Voldemort had made many Horcruxes. He had made sure destroying him wouldn't be an easy task.

'Is there a way to know how many Horcruxes have been created?'

'That's a very good question,' said Slytherin with satisfaction. 'Which brings me to the second detail. The second part of the price. The first one was a fragment of your soul, the second one is life itself.' Harry's eyes widened in horror. 'Yes Mr. Potter, to successfully enclose your soul in an object you need to steal the life of someone else for the ritual to be completed. Therefore, you can't have more Horcruxes than the number of people whose life you stole.'

'I think the correct word is murder,' replied Harry acidly. He looked at the Emerald he was holding with disgust. 'And who did you kill?'

'No one,' said Salazar with a mischievous tone. 'I have always believed that rules are there to be played with. When I created the Chamber, my time was almost done. But I was curious. I wanted to see if my plan would work. If my legacy would be respected. The Horcrux was the best solution, but I didn't want just a fragment of my soul to survive through the ages. I wanted the best artefact as possible, and to fulfill this wish there was only one life worthy of the most powerful Horcrux of them all.'

'You took your own life,' realised Harry.

'Precisely,' replied Slytherin. He sounded quite proud of him. 'Which is a bit ironic. As time passed, I started to understand my mistake.' He chuckled, bitterness pointing in his voice. 'Blood has nothing to do with magical affinity. This is perhaps the greatest lesson I have ever been granted to learn. And because of it, I doomed my lineage to reproduce this fallacy over and over.'

Silence filled the room while Harry processed what he had just learnt. If he had correctly understood, the dark mage hunting him down had made sure that killing him wouldn't be enough to get rid of him. Harry felt overwhelmed by the task awaiting him. How would he manage to do this alone?! Besides…

'Sir how can one find any Horcruxes at all?' He asked breaking the silence.

'Ah, that is the question isn't it,' replied Salazar. 'I won't lie to you, they will be hard to recover. However, Voldemort has a flaw. He is obsessed with powerful meaningful artefacts. Besides, to have the strength to hold a soul fragment, the object you choose must be of that sort of nature.' He paused a few seconds. As of today, I am only aware of two. There is a precious ring he went to seek in the house of his ancestors, the Gaunt family, while he was at Hogwarts. I wouldn't be surprised he used it to serve his purpose.'

'What is the second one?' Asked Harry while his sanity was still holding on.

'The lost diadem of Ravenclaw,' replied Salazar. 'He created it while he was at Hogwarts and his it in the Chamber of Secrets while he was still here. He removed it a few weeks before graduating, and I don't know where he took it.'

Harry was completely numb. He had absolutely no idea of how he would proceed. For a moment, he thought he was about to throw up and he headed towards the door. He didn't want to be in the same room as Salazar Slytherin anymore.

He reached the nearest bathroom and leaned on the edge of a sink. What he had just learned was so atrocious it had made him sick. Lord Voldemort had started his atrocities when he was as young as Harry was now. How monstruous could you be to be capable of murder at fifteen-year-old?

Harry splashed his head with cold water and straightened up. He had to. No matter if the Headmaster would try to avoid him, he had to find a way to reach him. What he had just learned was too important. He rushed out of the bathroom and ran down the stairs until he arrived in front of the Gargoyle in front of which he skidded to a halt.

The statue lowered her condescending gaze on him and sighed, waiting for the password.

'I need to speak to the Headmaster,' Harry managed to say. 'It's important.'

'How about that,' said the Gargoyle annoyed. 'If you can't provide the password, it means you aren't important enough to speak with him.'

'You don't understand!' Exclaimed Harry furious. 'It's urgent.'

'Mr. Potter,' said a cold voice behind. 'Shouting in the school corridors is forbidden, ten points from Gryffindor.'

Harry turned around to face Snape. He didn't have the time to play his little game.

'Sir,' I need to speak to Dumbledore, now.'

'Yes, I heard that,' replied Snape irritated. 'I heard it from the other side of the castle.' He narrowed his eyes and crossed his arms. 'Unfortunately, the Headmaster is busy. But it seems to be your lucky day because I am willing to pass any message, you'll have for him.'

Harry considered him a few seconds. He couldn't tell Snape about the Horcruxes. The Order seemed to think he was on their side, but Harry wasn't convinced at all. If Voldemort knew they had discovered his secret, finding the Horcruxes would be impossible, and they would never defeat him.

'I can't tell you,' replied Harry still trying to catch his breath.

'Then it's not that important,' sneered Snape. 'Now I suggest you go back to your dormitory. In silence.'

'No,' whispered Harry with anger. 'No, no, NO!' Was he really about to beg Snape? 'Sir, please it's important but I can only tell him and no one else! You have to help me.'

'Actually, I don't have to do anything,' replied Snape who was delighted by the scene Harry was making. 'That's going to be another ten points for your tone, and another twenty for your arrogance.'

There's only so much a body and a mind can take. And between the countless training nights, a small breakfast, and the day he had just went through, Harry was at his wit's end. If the muscles of his body hadn't decided to give up all at the same time, he would have strangled Snape on the spot.

The last thing he felt were two strong arms which caught him before he hurt the ground.

The last thing he saw was an electric blue gaze.

And before darkness seized him, an intense pain shot through his head as if it were being sliced open and a strange desire overtook him. An urge to bite. An urge to kill.

Hi everyone,

I hope you enjoy the story. I have the possibility to make Snape as one of the major characters. I didn't plan it but it is doable.

Is it something you'd like to see?

Thank you to all the reviewers :D