A/N: 12/8/19 - This is another one where I knew the end and the beginning but the middle gave me all sorts of hell, which in turn made me redo the end and the beginning only to not like it and put them back, and then re-contemplate the middle. Viscous circle.

"So . . . seven then?"

"Hmmm?" the headmaster inelegantly responded, pulling out of the deep thoughts he'd lost himself in. "I'm sorry, what was that, Harry?"

"Seven Horcruxes?"

"Six, I think," Dumbledore said distractedly. "Seven pieces of his soul, one of which inhabits his body."

"Six," Harry repeated. "And we've already taken care of four and have a lead on the fifth. The Diary, the Ring, the Diadem, and the one in me," Harry tried very hard not to growl out that last one but failed spectacularly, "have been destroyed. And we know Umbridge got the Locket from Mundungus. So one more."

"I'm not so sure, Harry," Hermione offered, and both wizards turned to regard the brilliant young witch. "I think it might actually be seven after all."

"Miss Granger, that would make eight pieces, which is not the powerful magical number Voldemort was looking for," Albus stated.

"Yes, but while he knows he has . . . had . . . a connection to Harry, it doesn't seem like he knows Harry had been made into a Horcrux, and so he would have worked to create what he thought was the sixth as soon as he had a body again," she offered.

"That's . . . very insightful, Miss Granger," Dumbledore said as he absently stroked his beard. "Yes, the more I think about it the more your logic makes sense."

"Two more to find, then," Harry stated.

"I believe so," the headmaster responded.

"Any idea what they might be?" the teenage wizard asked.

"As a matter of fact . . ." the elder wizard responded, standing and moving to the cabinet that held the memories Dumbledore had collected about Voldemort. He pulled one in particular from the shelf and moved back to the Pensieve, pouring the contents of the vial into the basin. "I was going to show this memory to you tomorrow, but since we're all already here and it is related to the topic at hand I guess it would be appropriate to watch it now instead." Dumbledore made an 'after you' motion and the two teens stepped forward and into the memory, Albus following quickly behind.

They re-emerged a short time later. "I'm assuming something happened to Ms. Smith not long after this memory occurred," Harry offered when they had all retaken their seats.

"Indeed, Harry," Albus offered. "She died not two days after Tom's visit, allegedly poisoned by Hokey."

"I find that exceedingly unlikely," Hermione huffed. "But I'm also guessing that wizard prejudices against house elves made the case open and shut."

"An astute observation, Miss Granger. Indeed, no one investigated her death further. More importantly for us, no one investigated the disappearance of Slytherin's Locket or Hufflepuff's Cup after poor Hepzibah's death."

"So we know what the locket looks like," Harry said simply. He turned to the headmaster. "I figured that you were showing me all of these memories to subtly hint what you believed the Horcruxes to be. We already know the locket is most likely the Horcrux Regulus stole and Umbridge now has. You believe Hufflepuff's Cup is another."

"While it's true that I wanted you to try and gain a deeper understanding of Tom's history, I will admit an ulterior motive was to show you the Horcruxes."

"Could you not just have said that from the out?" Harry growled.

"Harry, please understand. Until Horace's memory I had no idea how many there actually were. I assumed Tom would use a magical number, but that could have been –"

"Save it," Harry said, standing and pacing about the room. "You knew from the beginning what a Horcrux was. You knew from the beginning, or at least suspected, that I was one. You knew from the beginning what at least some of the others were." Harry stopped and stared at the headmaster. "You're dying."

Dumbledore breathed in deeply. "Yes, Harry."

"And if we don't manage to finish this before your time comes you want me to finish this crusade." The elder wizard nodded. "Then why not just tell me all of it? Why the runaround? We could have gone over all of this and then worked on strategy, or worked on spellwork, or any other of a hundred beneficial things. Why has it taken you two terms to reveal even this much of what you know?"

Albus moved back around his desk and sank into his chair. "I suppose there are two main reasons or, more accurately, one reason and one response that can, in hindsight, only be classified as an excuse. I had hoped to be able to take this time to find them myself; locate them at the least, destroy them if possible, so as to save you the burden later."

"That's why you've been leaving the castle, sir?" Hermione asked.

"Yes, Miss Granger. Using these memories in addition to what else I know of Tom I have tried to retrace his steps throughout his life, to try and find places of significance that he would deem 'worthy' enough to place one of the pieces of his soul. I'm sorry to say that I'd only discovered one additional place and, from what you relayed to me of Kreacher's story, that was where the Locket was housed and can now be crossed off the list."

"That sounds like the excuse, sir," Harry said. "Now how about the reason?"

Dumbledore pondered for a long few moments as Harry glared at him before he spoke again. "Harry, from almost the moment you came to Hogwarts you have had something precious. You have had people that you can depend and rely on. You have people that you trust with your life, whose motives you never doubt. That you believe in with everything you are, and know in your heart that they will stand by your side no matter what, to victory or defeat, life or death.

"How I envy you that, Harry," Dumbledore continued after a moment, and Harry sat back down next to Hermione as the headmaster continued. "With rare exception I have not felt that way about someone, felt that I can rely on them unequivocally and absolutely without question, in . . . well, in a very long time. There are experiences in my past that have left me doubting my own ability to judge people's characters, and as such makes it very difficult to lay all my cards on the table, as they say. Regardless of what I've said in public or how the people I've chosen to surround myself with strive toward the light, I still hold doubt in the deepest reaches of my heart, and that consequentially makes me wary. I would surmise that it is my own shortcomings that are the main reason why this has taken as long as it has." The Headmaster looked up at the two teens. "But you're absolutely correct; if anyone has earned the right to the truth, to my complete trust to see done what needs doing, it is you. You, and you Miss Granger, who have risked life and limb time and again to ensure that the right thing, and not the easy thing, is done. The two of you, whose depth of love and absolute trust in each other was enough to do what I thought to be impossible in the destruction of your Horcrux. You have proven yourselves intelligent, resourceful, and dedicated to what you know to be right and true and just. As I said earlier, a few days ago I realized that this is no longer my fight, but yours. You're right that I'm likely not long for this world, and it will be up to you two, and those you choose to surround yourselves with, to guide our world forward beyond Voldemort."

"Professor, you keep talking about trust and doing the right thing versus the easy thing," Harry began. "And I accept the fact that, especially in these times, it's difficult to know whom to trust. I also won't lie and say that my opinions on your objectivity with that trust isn't skewed." At Dumbledore's raised eyebrow, Harry responded. "Snape."

"Professor Snape, Harry."

"Oh, save it!" Harry yelled, standing and pacing once again. "The man is a cynical, sallow, bitter bastard with, as far as I can tell, no redeeming qualities aside from his skill with potions. He certainly hasn't acted like a professor for the last six years, especially to me. Why should I use that honorific when he clearly hasn't earned it?"

"Harry, I understand that yours and Severus's relationship is . . . tenuous, but please understand that, at least in regard to this venture, your desires and ultimate goals are aligned. He has as much desire to see the end of Voldemort as you."

"I highly doubt that," Harry scoffed. "I still don't understand what could have happened that would make you trust him so."

"Your mother happened, Harry," Albus said, stopping Harry in his tracks. "I'm about to tell you something that I swore to Severus I would never reveal, but I believe it more important that you understand both why I believe in Severus and why he is so antagonistic towards you." The elder wizard sighed deeply and then began. "Severus and your mother were childhood friends. They came to Hogwarts together and even though she was sorted into Gryffindor and he into Slytherin their friendship endured. Right up until the end of their Fifth Year."

"The fight down by the lake," Harry whispered, which made both Albus and Hermione look at him questioningly. "When you had Snape trying to teach me Occlumency last year, I . . . came across a memory of his. It was after their O.W.L.s, and my Dad was giving Snape a hard time down by the lake. Mum came up and starting yelling at Dad to leave him alone, and Snape . . . he called her a Mudblood."

"Yes, Harry," Albus said sadly. "Years of friendship ruined by a word spoken in the heat of the moment. Severus allowed his embarrassment and his pride to overrule all else and, at least in his mind, it drove your mother straight into James Potter's arms instead of his own, and himself into Voldemort's inner circle. You are the proof, every day, of what his error cost him; the only person he ever truly cared about."

"Snape . . . Snape was in love with my mum?"

"Not was, Harry. Still very much is. When he discovered that it was you that the prophecy could have spoken of, he begged me to hide all three of you away so that Voldemort wouldn't find you. Unfortunately, that didn't –"

"Wait," Harry interrupted. "Wait. How did Snape know about the prophecy?" Albus winced slightly at being so distracted that he let that piece of information loose while Harry stopped pacing and turned toward the Headmaster's desk. Both of the other occupants of the room could feel Harry's magic starting to roil. "You told me on the night Sirius died that someone had heard Trelawney give the beginning of the prophecy when you met her in the Hogs Head." Harry's face was completely void of emotion. "It was Snape. Snape heard it, and told Voldemort."

"Yes, Harry. And when Voldemort killed your mother he swore vengeance. And he has had to live with what he did every moment of every day since then."

"Had to live with it? Had to live with it?!" Harry screamed. An ink bottle on the desk burst in a flare of wild magic. "I've had to live with it, Professor. I had to grow up without my parents. I had to live in that house with those despicable people. I'm the one who has been stalked, some days by madmen, some days by fans who for whatever reason love me for something that I didn't even do. It's my godfather that's dead. My best friend, my brother in every way that mattered, that's dead. Because of him. So don't sit there and tell me that Snape has gotten the short end of the stick all these years!" Robes were being ruffled by the wind that had picked up around Harry, and things seemed in real danger of escalating further when Hermione slammed herself into him, grabbed him by both sides of his face, and made him look down at her.

"Harry. Harry, I want you to think about something for a moment. Think about Third Year, the broom. Think about how miserable we were that we'd let that come between us. Then think about how you would feel if we had never worked it out." The wild swirl of magic faded almost instantaneously, and Harry staggered back as if he'd been punched in the chest, even bringing his hand up to his heart as if it were hurting. "And now imagine that sometime later someone killed me, because of something you revealed to them about me, with that having happened."

Tears fell from Harry's eyes. "Hermione, I'd never –"

"Imagine how you would feel. What you would do. Who you would become. You would swear vengeance on whoever did it, just like you swore vengeance on whoever killed Ron." She took a step forward and put her hands over his on his chest. "I'm not asking you to forgive, love. I'm asking you to understand. To empathize. Yes, Professor Snape is an unbelievable bastard, and even in all this there is no excuse for a teacher to treat a student the way he has you." She turned a hard look at the Headmaster as she said the last part, and Albus had the decency to look chagrined. "But put yourself in his shoes and try to see the world as he must see it. Probably the only person who ever gave a damn about him killed by the person he believed in above all others. Does it excuse him? No. Does it explain him? I'd have to say yes."

"I still want to kill him," Harry choked out.

"I know."

"I still refuse to respect him."

"That's fine."

"I still hate him."

"And I'd be worried if you didn't," she answered immediately. "You don't have to like someone to be on the same side.

Harry nodded in understanding as he pulled Hermione into a hug. "Let's not talk about you dying ever again, okay?"

Hermione smiled as she wrapped her arms around him. "Okay," she confirmed as she squeezed.

"Now do you understand why I trust Severus, Harry?" came the Headmaster's voice once the teens had a few moments to settle.

"Doesn't mean I like it," Harry replied as he and Hermione re-took their seats. "Or that I excuse his actions. Or yours, for that matter."

"I understand," Albus said. "And we can discuss it further at another time if you'd like. But there are other duties to attend to today, and I'd like to finish our conversation about the Horcruxes."

Harry nodded, content to let the events of Thursday slide for the moment as well; there was work to do. "So, the Locket and probably Hufflepuff's Cup, and one other."

"Yes," Dumbledore said.

"Any ideas?" the teen wizard prompted. Dumbledore nodded before speaking.

"I wonder what you will say when I confess that I have been curious for a while about the behavior of the snake, Nagini?" (from Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince, J.K. Rowling, 2005)

{-}

"Harry?"

"Yes, Luna?"

"We've all been coming into this room for a few weeks now, yes?"

"Sounds about right."

"Have any of us given this giant map of Hogwarts any more than a cursory glance?"

Harry looked up from the book on fire spells that he had been reading to regard the blond, who herself was intently examining the map of the castle and grounds that dominated the center of the room. Indeed, in the weeks they had been coming to the War Room at basically every opportunity he hadn't spared a second thought for it. He rose from the conference table, looking over at the Pensieve where he knew Hermione and Neville were currently watching a memory-lesson on 'proper deportment and decorum.' He knew he should probably watch it too but it sounded dead boring compared to learning how to throw a fireball like the wizards in books and on television did. He walked over to Luna and the map and took some time to study it.

It looked much like it did the first time he'd beheld it the day he'd found the Room. In the castle proper were mostly small green dots, with a few yellow and one or two red thrown into the mix. Out on the grounds was again mostly green, with several yellows and some quickly moving red dots where the Forbidden Forest would be. "This . . . looks like a more basic version of the Marauders Map," he said after a moment. "I'd bet the dots represent people, but there's no names associated."

"Not people, at least not entirely," Luna corrected. "There wouldn't be that many people in the Forest. I think it might just represent sentient beings." At Harry's confused look, she explained. "I'd surmise that the yellow dots in the Forest are likely centaurs, and the red Acromantulas. I believe that the map somehow knows how living souls in its range are aligned against . . . maybe the castle? Or the person who summoned the room? Green means they mean no harm. Yellow means they can go either way. Red means they intend harm. Or something of the like."

"What makes you think all that?"

"Supposition. It makes the most logical sense given the percentages of the colored dots. Plus, I spent twenty minutes lining up dots in the castle with those on the Marauders Map; the yellows are mostly Slytherins with known histories of bigotry or links to Death Eaters, and the reds seem to be people like Malfoy, Nott, Crabbe, and Goyle. Additionally, you mentioned that some time ago Hagrid told you that the leader of the Acromantula colony was dying."

"Aragog, yeah. And Aragog himself said that the rest of them don't attack people because of him."

"So again, it makes the most sense that the red dots are Acromantulas that are scouting the edge of the Forest, perhaps making plans for when Aragog is dead and they are no longer restricted."

Harry eyed the blond carefully, and she returned the stare with her large silver eyes. "Ron had a term for girls like you and Hermione."

"Oh?"

"Yep. Brilliant, but scary."

The smile Luna gave him back just pushed her deeper into the latter category in Harry's mind.

{-}

The free time of the two weeks leading up to the Easter Holidays were spent in the War Room by all four teens. By keeping an eye on the Map they had discovered that Draco was entering and exiting the Room of Requirement quite often, and so they tried as much as possible to keep the Room occupied to stymy whatever it was he was working on. Harry again asked Hermione about her plans for Draco, and they agreed they would try and put them into action starting on the Thursday before Easter Break began. They wanted the situation with Malfoy over and done with before they left on the Express the following Monday not only because they didn't trust him alone in the castle over the holidays but, provided he was actually guilty, they could bring some closure for the Weasleys while they were there with them.

Their time in the War Room was devoted to reviewing the lessons Caleb Longbottom had left and doing their best to absorb the information. All learned a plethora of new offensive, defensive, and utility spells as well as basic strategy and tactics. Luna turned out to be particularly adept at healing spells, and so while all of them learned the basics she spent some extra time with additional memories on that subject. Hermione, on the other hand, was a fair hand at spells that affected the mind; illusions, memory charms, and the like. Harry and Neville, understanding that they lacked the subtlety or temperament for fields such as the girls were focusing, instead focused on raw combat magic; both boys had power in abundance, had good heads on their shoulders, and Neville especially seemed determined to live up to his ancestor's teachings. Remus and Tonks were in for a few surprises when they met up over the holiday.

The only real update from outside the castle was that Scrimgeour had made good on his word; the Wizengamot had met on the 19th and the Weasley's claim against Bellatrix Lestrange for violating Dies Ultima was approved. The penalty was half of the Lestrange vault, and Arthur had sent a letter to Harry asking him to meet the family at Gringotts on Monday the 31st to see the ruling enacted. He'd agreed, also reluctantly sending a letter to Krek that he would deliver the Sword of Gryffindor to the goblins on that date. That had been an interesting conversation with the Headmaster; not only was the Sword a relic of one of the Founders but it was their only weapon against Horcruxes. Or at least it was until Harry smacked himself on the forehead for being so dense before he, Hermione, and Dumbledore delved back down into the Chamber of Secrets to retrieve some venom from the Basilisk. While the Headmaster still wasn't happy after that, he understood what Harry hoped to accomplish by parlaying with the Goblins and so agreed the Sword of Ragnuk the First would finally be able to make its way home.

{-}

Draco Malfoy was scared and frustrated. The Dark Lord had charged him with killing Dumbledore, which Draco knew was a nigh on impossible task but which he had still put at least some effort into. He smiled to himself as he thought about how he'd inadvertently managed to nab that blood traitor Weasley; it wasn't the Headmaster but knowing he'd hurt Potter still felt good, and had earned him points with the Dark Lord. However, he was more hopeful that his other scheme, the one he had proposed to his new master that would allow Death Eaters into Hogwarts, would bear more fruit. Perhaps in the course of events one of them would kill the old fool and relieve Draco of the task; he could hope, at least.

That second task had run up against a very annoying roadblock over the last few weeks, though. Someone else had been using up a lot of time in the Room of Requirement, severely cutting into his timeline to get the Vanishing Cabinet repaired. Probably some moron using it for a shag where they won't be interrupted he thought bitterly to himself as he approached the tapestry of Barnabas the Barmy. Draco was glad the Easter Holidays were almost upon them; it would give him nearly two whole weeks that he planned to devote entirely to this venture, and with the castle emptying except mostly for people studying for the O.W.L.s and N.E.W.T.s his competition for the Room's time should be otherwise occupied. He snapped back out of his musings as he reached his destination and paced back and forth in front of the blank wall three times while keeping his desire for the Room in his mind. I need the place where things are hidden. I need the place where things are hidden. I need the place where things are hidden. He almost shouted in triumph when he saw the door materialize; at last he'd be able to get some real work done and show all of those that doubted him that he deserved a place amongst the Dark Lord's retinue.

That was the last thought that entered his mind before the red bolt of magic caught him in the back and he crumpled to the ground unconscious.

{-}

Harry threw off the Invisibility Cloak as he approached the Stunned form of Draco Malfoy. He'd wanted to use something much stronger but Hermione's repeated statements of 'innocent until proven guilty' kept his spell non-lethal. A quick Mobilicorpus had Draco bouncing inelegantly into the Room, followed by Harry and then Hermione, who appeared from down the hall after a moment, Marauders Map in hand. "He was alone, so we should be fine," she said, to which Harry just nodded as they entered the vast space where all of the lost things of Hogwarts accumulated.

They found the most uncomfortable looking chair they could and dropped Draco on it, securing him with an Incarerous that was perhaps a bit tighter than it needed to be. Hermione walked over while Harry tipped the Slytherin's head back, and into the bound teen's mouth the witch put the requisite three drops of the Veritaserum she had taken from the Potions Storeroom before waking him with a Rennervate. Just like Harry had seen with Barty Crouch Junior after the Third Task, Draco came to slack-faced and seemingly staring into infinity.

"Are you Draco Malfoy?" Harry asked.

"Yes."

"Have you taken the Dark Mark?"

"Yes."

"What did you have to do in order to get the Mark?"

"The Dark Lord ordered me to kill Dumbledore, and when I swore on my life and those of my parents that I would he gave me the Mark."

Harry and Hermione looked at each other; at least now they knew for sure who Draco had been trying to kill.

"Did you curse Katie Bell?"

"No."

Harry frowned. "Did you have anything to do with what happened to Katie Bell last October?"

"Yes."

"Explain."

"I placed Madame Rosmerta under the Imperius Curse and ordered her to in turn do the same to Bell. She was then to order Bell to take a cursed necklace to Dumbledore, but that stupid bitch couldn't even do that much right. Went and touched the thing before she could hand it over."

"Are you sorry that Katie was hurt?" Harry was pretty sure of the answer, but Hermione had been adamant that it be asked anyway.

"Why should I be? She's just a worthless blood traitor with no respect for the natural order."

Harry steamed, but kept up his line of questioning. "Is Madame Rosmerta still cursed?"

"Yes, I stop by every Hogsmeade weekend to re-curse her and have a little fun."

"Fun?"

"Yes. She's a brilliant shag."

Hermione gasped. "You raped her?"

"I took what was mine by right of being her better. If the stupid slag didn't want it she should have fought the curse harder." At that response Hermione, rage barely contained, turned and walked back into the stacks of detritus in the room while Harry continued with the questions.

"Why have you been coming to this room so often?"

"I came up with a plan that would allow Death Eaters to enter the castle past all of the protections."

"And what's that?"

"When those blood traitor Weasley twins stuffed Montague in the Vanishing Cabinet during Fifth Year, he later said that he could sometimes hear things going on at Hogwarts and at Borgin and Burkes while he was stuck in there. When he got out later everyone dismissed it as unimportant, but I realized that if the cabinet could be fixed then people could travel between the one in Knockturn Alley and the one here. I've been trying to repair it."

Harry pondered the implications of Draco's plan. If he'd been allowed to succeed it could have been catastrophic; there was no telling what the Death Eaters would do if they got into Hogwarts. But what if we turned it around on them? he thought to himself. What if we used the cabinet to go to them? No, Draco said it was at Borgin and Burkes, that wouldn't work. Wait . . . what about luring them through and then capturing them? That would be comparatively low risk; we could have a force of Aurors and Order members capturing them as they came out of the cabinet. And it's likely that Voldemort would send some of his best; taking them out of the picture would be a big boost for the war.

As Harry lost himself in thought the Veritaserum worse off and Draco began frantically trying to get out of his bindings until he looked up and identified his captor. A sneer crossed his face as he saw Harry staring off into space. "You've done it now, Potter. Not even Dumbledore will be able to save you from Azkaban when the Aurors come to arrest you for this."

Hearing Draco speak snapped Harry out of his daze, and he looked at his rival and smiled. "I've already kidnapped one person in the last week and got away with it; why not two?" Harry answered simply. "But we're not done yet, Draco. I know that you're a Death Eater. I know that you've been trying to kill Dumbledore. I know that you've repeatedly cursed and assaulted Rosmerta. I know that you're conspiring with Voldemort to allow Death Eaters into Hogwarts. But there's still one matter that needs settling. I know you're not under the potion's effects anymore, but you're such a sick fuck I'll bet you're aching to answer this one anyway." Harry crouched down and met Draco's look of hatred with one of his own. "Tell me about the bottle of mead that killed Ron."

Draco put on a sinister smile before he began. "Ah, yes. That was brilliant, wasn't it? I meant for that bottle to make its way to Dumbledore, but knowing that you had to watch that useless blood traitor choke on his own fluids was totally worth not getting the old Muggle lover. Did that hurt, Potter, watching the life leave his pathetic eyes? To have to sit there, the vaunted Boy-Who-Lived, helpless and impotent as the poison slowly ended his miserable life? I'll bet it did hurt, didn't it? I'll bet you cried like a little bitch for that worthless sack of shit, just like you probably did when Aunt Bellatrix put that fool Black through the Veil last year. Well get used to it, Potter; that's the fate that awaits everyone you care about who stands against the Dark Lord. That old fool Dumbledore; the rest of those red-headed peasants; that mangy werewolf." Draco smiled. "And who could forget the know-it-all Mudblood? We'll save her for last. Pass her around like the cheap whore she is. I'm going to especially enjoy fucking her while you watch, Potter, just to punish you more before the Dark Lord finishes you off. I'll even curse her so that she'll yell out how much she loves it right in your face, right before I slit her throat and let her dirty disgusting blood spray out all over you. You're going to die, and I'm going to revel in knowing that you'll do so battered and broken both in body and in spirit, despairing in knowing that you've lost everything, and I played my part in your despair. That will be a day I cherish for the rest of my life, and it's coming sooner than you think."

Draco finished his diatribe and they both sat there silently, continuing to stare each other down for a long while. The vehemence that passed between them went way beyond their long-held animosity and antagonism; this was raw hostility, a new level of hatred and contempt that there was no recovering from. Only a single word, spoken quietly but firmly into the silence, finally broke the stalemate between the two wizards.

"Crucio."

A/N: As always, thanks for your favorites, follows, views, and reviews.