Chapter 60 – A Chilling Discovery

This was bad.

It was a burning like Snape had never felt before, not in the years before the Dark Lord's first fall, and certainly not since, for all the setbacks the Dark Lord had faced since returning.

And quite frankly, it scared him—scared him out of his wits.

The Dark Lord was seriously displeased about something and was calling his followers home to answer for it. And it did not take a genius to know just exactly what had angered him—though Snape had no direct knowledge of what had happened in Hogsmeade, the fact that Dumbledore had cancelled Hogsmeade weekend at the last moment and ensured that no one was able to leave the Great Hall in the meantime spoke volumes. Snape certainly was not aware of how Dumbledore had come to know of Voldemort's plans, but he somehow had, and had arranged to turn the trap back on the Dark Lord's forces.

Regardless of the fact that living had almost become a chore since the death of his first—and only!—true friend, Severus Snape was possessed of a healthy self-preservation instinct. That it was incongruous, he was well aware, but despite that self knowledge, Snape had no desire whatsoever to meet his maker. Everything he did was done with the twofold goal of bringing about the Dark Lord's defeat and surviving that defeat himself; once he was finally free of Voldemort—and of Dumbledore, for that matter—he would worry about the future and whether he wanted any part of it.

If the Dark Lord's forces had been ambushed, then he would no doubt be furious, if the burning pain in Snape's arm had not already attested to that fact. It was becoming more dangerous by the moment, this little game he was playing at Dumbledore's behest, and though the Dark Lord still called him in frequently, listened to his opinions and the information he had to impart with interest, that damnable fool crusade into the Ministry had made him much more cautious. Snape could tell the Dark Lord did not trust him to the extent he had been before, and it made every move he made doubly dangerous.

Still, there was nothing to be done. It was either respond to the Dark Lord's summons and once again risk his life playing his role, or hide out in the castle until the Dark Lord was finally defeated, as he was well aware of the fact that his life would not be worth two knuts beyond the wards of Hogwarts if the Dark Lord became aware of his true role in the conflict.

Moments before, several Aurors had entered the Great Hall, approached Dumbledore, and were now conferring closely with the Headmaster. Given the fact that at least one of the Death Eaters had obviously escaped and reported to the Dark Lord, and the fact that the Aurors were now here, it meant that whatever the Dark Lord had planned had been repulsed successfully. He could now respond to the Dark Lord's summons.

He sidled off to the side of the Great Hall, making for the small anteroom off to the side, from which he knew there was a short passage which would lead him out of the Great Hall, noting that Dumbledore saw his movement and would understand what was happening. It did not miss his sharp gaze that Potter had seen his movement as well, though he did not doubt that several others had as well—he was not exactly an inconspicuous figure, after all. He sneered at the boy, knowing that Potter would also understand what was happening, while ignoring everything else but the need to leave.

Once in the anteroom, he tapped his wand on a certain stone, and stepped into the passage, closing the entrance behind him. He quickly applied a disillusionment charm before he exited a short time later in a side hallway. From there it was a simple matter to make his way down to the courtyard, and from thence out onto the grounds of Hogwarts, evading the few Aurors who were stationed there, watching out over the school with a bored eye. It was clear that they were more concerned about someone getting in to Hogwarts, rather than someone trying to leave. As soon as he felt he had progressed far enough that his disapparation would not be overheard, he turned on his heel and left Hogwarts.

The manor in which the Dark Lord had made his home was the same—depressing grey clouds, covering a bleak landscape in which stunted trees and undergrowth strained and fought for every inch of growth they were able to obtain. Perhaps it was fancy, brought out by the events of the morning and fear of the Dark Lord's response, but it almost felt to Snape like the location was even gloomier and more desolate than it had ever been before. Or perhaps it was an air of expectation, almost as though nature itself was waiting for the expected explosion of the Dark Lord's temper. Snape had always known the man to maintain a flawless level of control over himself and his emotions, but he had also almost sensed a building tension in the Dark Lord, like he was a frayed rope, approaching his breaking point. The thought was most certainly not a comfort at that time.

For once, there was no Death Eater on duty at the entrance to the manor, though to be honest, those who had been stationed here had never been exactly diligent in keeping watch. Snape thought that it would have been a better idea to have someone stationed on the roof to take advantage of the better vantage point, but that was not something he was about to mention. If the Dark Lord wished to be overconfident, then Snape had no problem allowing him to be so.

Almost as silent as a ghost, Snape passed through the hallways of the manor house, following its twisting halls and worn and faded décor—which at one time in the past might almost have been fine—making his way toward the Dark Lord's throne room. It was on his way there that he noticed the door to the large ballroom was open, and a man was keeping watch from the entrance.

Curious, Snape approached, and when the man caught sight of him, he motioned him to enter the room. Inside, Snape was shocked by the sight which met his eyes. Row upon row of Death Eaters were lined up within the ballroom, all facing the end of the room, where the Dark Lord stood watching him enter, his eyes glittering like hard agates.

In truth, Snape had not given much credence to the report that there were several hundred in the Dark Lord's forces, and answered—truthfully—that he had not heard of any recruiting efforts in other countries when Dumbledore had asked him. During the height of the first war, Snape had attended gatherings in which nearly all Death Eaters had been present, but even then, he did not think that their numbers had ever exceeded sixty or seventy.

There were easily several hundred in the room today, maybe as many as five hundred, and the vast majority of them were completely unknown to him. Dumbledore would want to know of his observations, but he knew that first it would take all the skill his possessed to emerge from this room intact.

"Come forward, Severus. So good of you to join us." The sardonic mockery in his voice was something which Snape had heard many times from the Dark Lord, but seldom had it been directed at him. The Dark Lord was clearly in a foul mood.

"Now that we have all arrived," the Dark Lord stated, with a sidelong glance at Snape, as Snape moved to the front of the room to stand by Selwyn, "we may begin."

The Dark Lord swept the room with his gaze. "Today was to be the day when we finally took what was ours. The attack at the Ministry, although it was ultimately not successful, was nevertheless useful in that it displayed without any hint of ambiguity, that we are here to stay and that we can reach them wherever they may choose to hide.

"With the children of the most prominent members of society under our control, they would quickly have capitulated to our demands, or seen their next generation perish as a result. That was the true thrust of today's attack on Hogsmeade."

Snape was not precisely surprised. The Dark Lord had tried similar tactics in the previous war, though not on the same scale as the day's efforts had obviously been. He had even been successful in capturing certain children last time around, though he had obviously not been able to induce the Ministry to capitulate. In fact, Snape knew little more than that commonly known fact; he had kept his knowledge of the Dark Lord's activities general in nature due to his need to keep himself above whatever the man was doing, even in the first war, before his status as a Death Eater had become to a certain extent known.

"Today did not go as planned," the Dark Lord continued to say. "The giants attacked first as we had intended, but it appears as though none of them survived the day, which I do not need to tell you all is a blow to our forces. The werewolves then approached to herd the students toward our forces so that they could be taken. But the werewolves were attacked, and Greyback was killed. And then when our forces arrived, they did not find panicked students. They found students who were expecting them, and who fought back with deadly force."

The Dark Lord paused for a moment, his eyes raking over his minions, and Snape could see that several of them were almost quaking in their boots. The Dark Lord was intimidating, and his reputation was even more so. Snape was largely inured to the man's tactics—he needed to be if he was to fulfill his role.

"Subsequent reports have suggested that the students in Hogsmeade were actually Aurors using polyjuice to impersonate the students.

"This can mean only one thing—we have a traitor in our midst."

A strangled gasp sounded throughout the hall, as those within appeared, almost as one, to each check out his neighbor, as though expecting to find a traitor by sight alone. The fear in the ballroom ratcheted up dramatically, and if Snape was not so amused, he might have been one of those who were in fear for their very life. The irony of the situation was, of course, that there was a traitor in the room—though Snape would call his own actions vengeance, rather than treacherous, given the fact that the Dark Lord had broken his word and killed Lily. But that traitor had nothing to do with the day's debacle. Indeed, Snape still had no idea of how Dumbledore had managed to obtain information about the attack, though he had a suspicion that Potter was somehow involved. But what he was absolutely certain of was that it had not been of his doing, which was likely why Dumbledore had kept him in the dark about it altogether. He could now answer truthfully that he had not known anything until after the fact.

But before that, the Dark Lord obviously had many more things to say. To the right and a little behind where he stood, Bellatrix looked impassively on, her eyes, though they darted everywhere, like she saw a ghost in every shadow, appeared at times to be fixed on him. Snape did not allow himself a response, contenting himself with returning her gaze impassively until she moved on to her next subject.

"Never, in all the time since I organized my loyal followers into a force which can dominate Wizarding society has there been a traitor," the Dark Lord was saying. He began to walk slowly down the line of Death Eaters, his eyes roving this way and that, as though attempting to command the spy to reveal himself. The scene was reminiscent of an old Muggle movie that Lily had cajoled him into watching, of an old Muggle general inspecting his troops. Snape suppressed a grimace—he certainly did not need thoughts of Lily distracting him at present.

"Does anyone here know what happens to traitors?" The Dark Lord's scathing gaze raked over the assembled, causing more than one to flinch slightly, or shiver at the thought of his attention focused on them. "A traitor's fate is that which meets the demand of retribution. And retribution is a demand of justice. The traitor in this room shall be ferreted out, and brought to justice. This, I promise you all."

The Dark Lord continued to speak of betrayal and retribution as he made his way down the line, but Snape only half listened to him. Truly, this was the largest danger he had ever faced in the game against the Dark Lord. For the Dark Lord to openly begin speaking of a traitor, it meant that he felt he knew for a fact that there was one, and Snape knew that as the one who lived with the enemy, so to speak, suspicion would immediately fall upon him. Even now he could feel the eyes of many fixed on him, for even if they did not know him personally, everyone was aware of the spy in Dumbledore's midst.

"Ah, Severus," the Dark Lord stated smoothly as he passed Snape in line. He stopped and peered at Snape with a gleam in his eye, while Snape forced himself to calm. "You have been in the bosom of the enemy for many years. Tell me, has Dumbledore managed to induce you into believing in his love and forgive all philosophy?"

"Assuredly not, My Lord," Snape responded, thinking that it was the truth, after all. He was only aligned with Dumbledore for the sake of defeating the Dark Lord—he did not really believe in Dumbledore's brand of the world order at all. In fact, as the years had progressed, Snape had lost the ability to believe in anything, for there was nothing which could take away the pain of his existence.

"But surely he has attempted to… convert you?"

"Why would he when he thinks I'm already converted?" Snape replied. "I'm his trusted spy in the ranks of his enemy."

"Are you? The fact that your information about Potter's excursion to the Ministry was false brings into question your usefulness as a spy."

"Whatever Dumbledore is, he is not a fool."

"No, he is not at that."

The Dark Lord paused, and Snape watched him, beginning to feel true concern over the situation. This line of questioning was becoming tenser by the moment. Did the Dark Lord truly suspect him of betrayal?

No, he could not—at least not enough to accuse Snape openly. Though the Dark Lord was not above toying with him if he truly thought Snape was betraying him—and would kill him without a second thought if he truly believed it—Snape did not think he would be so oblique in his accusations. This was more about testing him, trying to see if he would reveal something under pressure. Snape was certain of it. He would not give the Dark Lord the satisfaction of breaking.

"But he appears to have fed you some disinformation in the recent past," Voldemort continued. "Tell me—did he specifically direct you to tell me what you did about Potter before the Department of Mysteries?"

"Dumbledore and I have never had such a conversation," Snape replied. "He allows me to determine what I will report to you, trusting that I will not reveal too much."

"An amazing level of trust for one who is, after all, one of my marked Death Eaters."

"Just as you trust me, My Lord," Snape said. "I only have one master, My Lord, and it is not the old man in the school."

This was, in fact, another truth; he had only one master as Dumbledore, for all that he had made Snape swear airtight oaths, had never tried to assume such a role. And a good thing too, as Snape may have strangled the old man with his own beard if he had attempted it.

"Mr. Malfoy seems to think differently," the Dark Lord commented.

Snape raised an eyebrow, and looked coolly to his left, where the blond Pureblood stood, looking at him through narrowed eyes. It was a wonder that Snape had not noticed him there before, though perhaps it was not truly surprising as Draco was not truly relevant any longer. He had proven his incompetence over and over, and Snape wondered why the Dark Lord still saddled himself with the boy. Perhaps it was because of the Malfoy fortune, though Snape had heard that it was tied up in the Wizengamot, as the father had been executed for his crimes, and the son was an escaped fugitive. Then again, perhaps it was due to whatever loyalty the Dark Lord felt he owed to the son of his longtime faithful follower. It could not be on the boy's merits alone, as he was truly only remarkable in his ineptitude.

"Oh?" was the only response Snape allowed himself.

"Indeed," the Dark Lord replied with a smile and a glance at the boy. "He has been filling my ears with his tales of your actions at Hogwarts, and seems to think that you are actually in league with Dumbledore."

"I see."

The Dark Lord looked at him appraisingly. "Do you have nothing to say for yourself?"

"Should I respond to the ill-thought words of a petulant child?" Snape asked.

Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Draco bristle. "How dare—"

"Peace, Mr. Malfoy," the Dark Lord interrupted. "We have agreed that you require some additional education. Work to prove his words wrong—your angry words in response only prove him to be right."

And though Draco appeared as though he wanted to continue, he reluctantly held his peace, instead settling into a sulky glare. Snape decided he had better things to worry about—the boy was a menace, but one without fangs.

"My Lord, Mr. Malfoy has proved himself to be nothing more than the most Gryffindorish Slytherin I have ever met," Snape replied with a sneer at the boy. "He struts around the school, informing all of his status, expecting all to genuflect when he walks by. Or at least he used to strut about the school, until his ineptitude resulted in his incarceration. I looked up to his father, because Lucius truly knew how to achieve his goals through cunning and manipulation. And if he was not able to achieve his goals through those means, he had the talent and the will to achieve his goals with his wand. His son, unfortunately, did not inherit his father's talents. A true Slytherin would have worked to gain Potter's trust—Draco merely insulted him, and continued to bait him whenever he could."

The Dark Lord looked back and forth between them, and while Snape remained impassive, Draco's eyes almost bulged from their sockets in affront. His reaction alone confirmed Snape's words, though his actions in the five years since he had arrived at Hogwarts had already performed that task admirably.

"Mr. Malfoy is improving, and I believe he will soon be a true credit to us," the Dark Lord said.

"By your tutelage, of course," Snape returned with a slight incline of his head. Privately, he doubted that Draco would ever be anything more than a brash, unintelligent hothead, regardless of who took him under his wing.

"And what of this morning?" the Dark Lord changed subjects, though the effect was somewhat abrupt and jarring, no doubt as he had intended. "You did not attempt to inform me of the fact that Dumbledore had cancelled Hogsmeade weekend."

"By the time I knew, it was already too late," Snape responded, glad that the discussion was moving to more comfortable territory. "Dumbledore announced it to the school at breakfast, and sealed the Great Hall, ensuring that no one could leave to send word, though I believe this was more aimed at the students. And as I was not informed of what was to occur today, I had no way of knowing before that today would be important."

"Are you questioning my decision to not inform you?"

"Of course not, My Lord," Snape replied smoothly. "It is understandable that you would keep it from me, given the situation. I am merely stating that there was no way I could have known in advance what was to happen. Of course, I am always alert for any information which would be of use to you. This morning there simply was no opportunity to contact you after I had been made aware of the situation."

The Dark Lord peered at him with some intensity for several moments before he gave a tight nod. "You are correct, or course, Severus. It is your ability to maintain control over yourself that makes you so useful to our cause—that and your close proximity to our esteemed Chief Warlock." This last was said with a sardonic sneer. "However, we must make certain to remember that although you are close to him, we would be foolish to believe that he trusts you implicitly. He is, as you have already pointed out, no fool, regardless of the foolishness of his beliefs."

"I agree fully, My Lord."

A tight nod met his words, after which the Dark Lord moved away and returned to the front of the room where he again faced the assembled Death Eaters. Snape wondered why the Dark Lord had singled him out. Was it because he did not know who this supposed traitor was, and hoped to provoke a response, or was the man somehow on to him? He was not certain how the Dark Lord could possibly have divined his true allegiances based on the events of the day, unless he had had suspicions before, and had simply put multiple pieces together. Damn Potter and his prophecy anyway! It made his role tougher than it ever had before.

"I promise you all that I will ferret out the identity of our traitor, and I promise retribution for his betrayal of us all," the Dark Lord said after a moment's pause. "Remember that our cause is for the good of us all. We cannot accept failure, whether it is failure to act, or failure to accomplish our goals.

"Today, we were ultimately unsuccessful, but I promise you that soon we will prevail. I have a plan which will see us knocking down the very gates of Hogwarts and the Ministry itself. We will finally have that which is rightfully ours!"

The roar of approval which met his words was deafening, and one which Snape had not heard from a gathering of the Dark Lord's followers before. Malfoy and his ilk had tended to be more restrained in their responses, another thing which appeared to be changing in the Dark Lord's forces.

As the meeting broke up, the Dark Lord caught Snape's eye and nodded slightly, which Snape returned by inclining his head, while releasing an inward sigh of relief. The Dark Lord still trusted him.

For all that an important engagement had been fought only hours before, the village of Hogsmeade appeared to be none the worse for wear. There were, perhaps, a few locations where spell damage could be seen, especially in the area where the werewolves had been subdued, but as the giants had all been put down outside the outskirts of the village, it had escaped the ruin that the massive attackers would have unleashed upon it. And the Death Eater rout against the disguised Aurors had occurred toward the path to Hogwarts, and as such, there was little damage in that end of town as well. All in all, it was a total victory, and one which had been desperately needed, for morale, if nothing else.

Unfortunately, what Amelia was still uncertain of, was what manner in which Dumbledore had been able to gain the intelligence necessary to thwart the attack. In his typical vague and secretive manner, the Headmaster had put off any and all questions of the matter, insisting that he had sources which would be able to bring them this information from time to time, though he was careful to point out that it was by no means to be relied upon to give them information on all of Voldemort's operations.

Amelia was not blind—the information she had pointed to Dumbledore having a mole within the Dark Lord's organization, and given the close proximity of a certain potions professor, Amelia was certain she knew who it was. What she did not know was why Dumbledore had not come forward with such a valuable source of information before, so that they may use it to predict and repulse the Death Eater attacks. But even in that, the Headmaster was infuriatingly vague.

"I'm sorry, Minister, but I cannot say any more than I already have," he stated in that infuriating mild tone of his. "I do have information available to me at times, but we must use it judiciously. If Voldemort become aware of this source, he would quickly move to cut it off, or even worse, simply begin feeding us disinformation in return."

Amelia ignored his subsequent words and focused on his refusal to share his source. "Cannot or will not?"

"Both, I suppose," Dumbledore replied, seemingly impervious to her displeasure.

Pinching the bridge of her nose, Amelia glared at him. "Need I remind you that Voldemort is attempting to drive us to our knees with these constant attacks? If you have information, you must make it available to us so that we can repel him."

"Again, Amelia, I am not withholding anything from you that can help save lives. The information is not always available, and cannot always be trusted. I approach you whenever I have something that I deem reliable, and that is of sufficient importance. Other than that, I cannot give you anything further. Trust me—I have as much desire to see Voldemort finally defeated as you do."

"At least allow Kingsley to interrogate Professor Snape. We need to be certain that he is on our side."

Dumbledore's countenance darkened with displeasure. "Who said this information came from Professor Snape? In fact, I can assure you the intelligence about today's attack did not come from the professor. I would not expect Voldemort to share operational information—especially that involving a location so close to Hogwarts—with the professor, who is, after all, so close to me."

Eyes narrowed in suspicion, Amelia retorted, "So you have another source?" And then when Dumbledore made to protest, Amelia cut him off. "I am aware of the professor's former allegiances, as you well know. I was there for the Death Eater trials at the end of the first war. I'm merely surprised that you have been able to subvert another Death Eater. In fact, I wonder that Voldemort has not recognized the viper positioned so close to him."

"In that, I think the Dark Lord is afflicted with overconfidence," Dumbledore said with a chuckle. "He is far too arrogant to think that anyone could go against him."

"You have not answered my question."

"And I will not. The story is not mine to share." Dumbledore turned back to the town and watched the clean up crews as they removed the bodies of the werewolves who had died in the battle. "I can tell you that today's source will not be repeated. You may consider it as a one-time piece of intelligence which we were fortunate to intercept. As for anything else, you can be certain that I will bring you anything at all which is of any import. I cannot tell you anything further."

Though Amelia was still annoyed by his continued refusal, she allowed the matter to drop. She was the Minister, but he was a venerable hero several times over—if he wanted to keep his secrets, then he would certainly do so. It was disappointing to learn that there would not be another repeat of that intelligence they received about the day's attack, but Amelia was philosophical about that—it was better they had the information that one time, rather than have the students set upon by Death Eaters.

"We at least appear to have their full attention," Amelia said a few moments later. "Reports of Muggle baiting are almost nonexistent, though their attacks on Wizarding targets are much higher than the first war."

"Whatever else he is, Voldemort is not stupid," Dumbledore replied. "Such attacks in the first war were more to force us to respond and expend resources obliviating Muggles, among other things. But Voldemort has lived in the Muggle world, and he knows that the magical world cannot challenge the Muggles head on. It is not prudent for him to force the discovery of the Wizarding world at this point, or the Muggles might rise up against him before he is able to put whatever plans he has into place."

"So you think he is keeping tighter control over his forces this time?"

"I do," Dumbledore confirmed. "His plans may eventually include taking over the Muggle world by stealth, but his first goal must be to defeat us. That is where he is expending the bulk of his energy."

It made sense, though it did not really help Amelia at present. It was good that they did not have to deal with Death Eater depredations in the Muggle world, but the continued attacks were such that any benefit they might have felt was swallowed up in the increased assault against the magical world.

"I do not need to tell you that we cannot afford to have this fight drag on indefinitely," she said, turning to face Dumbledore. It would not hurt the man to understand that her will was as implacable as his own. "If you have any information at all that will help us, I expect you to share it immediately."

"As I will," Dumbledore agreed. "You must admit that I did so in this situation, did I not? I am as much concerned for the lives of the people as you are, Amelia. I will do whatever it takes to ensure the Dark Lord is defeated."

"I know you will," Amelia said, softening her stance a little. She was a little peeved that he would not give her further information, but she knew that he was fully committed to fighting the darkness. He had proved that time and time again over the course of his life.

A few moments of exchanging a little more information, and Amelia parted from him, returning with her ever-present pair of guards to the Ministry. As she sat down again in her chair, she reflected that the atmosphere of this conflict was very different from what it had been during the first war. Then, the pressure had been steady, and had eroded their resistance a little at a time. Now, however, it was like a tidal wave, threatening to engulf them and drown them if a bulwark was not built to prevent its encroachment. The Dark Lord needed to be defeated, and quickly.

To be completely honest, the last thing that Harry wanted to do was to further discuss the subject of horcruxes. They were foul, evil, and the instruments which would lead to his ultimate death, and this continual need to talk about them was wearing on Harry's equilibrium.

But he knew that it was necessary. As the matter of the acceptable vessel for horcrux creation had caught them all by surprise, much of Dumbledore's work into discovering the location, and the exact artifacts that Voldemort had used were largely now irrelevant. The only thing it was now useful for was in determining if there had been anyone close enough to the scene of the murder to have accepted the soul shard and become a horcrux. Unfortunately, determining that was almost an impossible task.

So Harry trudged up to the Headmaster's office in the company of Fleur and Hermione, grateful that at least he was to be engaged in something other than brooding. The subject matter was not anything but detestable, but at least he had something with which to occupy his mind. When they entered, they were greeted by the others who had already assembled, though contrary to last time, Tonks was missing, presumably because she had Auror responsibilities which demanded her attention.

"Thank you all for coming," Dumbledore opened the discussion without any delay. "As you are all aware, Remus has discovered that only a living being may become a horcrux. We must determine as best we can, therefore, how many horcruxes actually exist."

Pausing, the Headmaster turned to Remus. "I understand that in addition to the horcrux detection spell, you found another spell which will discover if a person has an active horcrux?"

Remus gave a tight nod. "If you will allow me?"

When Dumbledore agreed, Remus raised his wand and pointed it at the Headmaster. "Sectilis Anima Manufesto!"

The spell hit Dumbledore and, the same as the last time Moony had tried one of the spells he had learned in Egypt, and once again he glowed white, and the light faded after a few moments.

"That spell means 'show divided soul.' It is easy to see what happens when the soul hits a person who does not have an active horcrux." He paused and looked around the room. "Unfortunately, the records were somewhat ambiguous when it came to describing what would happen if a person does have an active horcrux. All that we could make out was that it had something to do with lines, but it was only a fragment which survived, and it was far from clear."

"It seems to me that it would be very difficult to get Voldemort into a position where we can cast it on him," Harry observed.

"Not only that," Remus replied, "but the spell requires only a small amount of power, and as such, it is absurdly easy to block. If we were to try to cast it on him he could block it without much thought, and if he overheard the incantation, he would undoubtedly understand the significance. That makes it extremely risky to do so without the proper safeguards in place."

Dumbledore gave a tight nod. "He would undoubtedly realize that we are onto his secret of horcruxes, and wonder what we have discovered that he has not. Do you think he would be able to find more than what he has already found?"

"I doubt it," Remus said with a shake his head. "The Society has been removing references to horcruxes for centuries. I doubt there's much left anywhere, let alone something that would tell him exactly what horcruxes are."

"He did find the instructions to create them, somewhere," Jean-Sebastian pointed out.

"Granted," Remus replied.

"I suspect his source might have been found in the chamber," Dumbledore added. "I have no proof beyond conjecture of this, but it seems the most likely. Salazar Slytherin was a rather unsavory sort, and though he might not have stooped low enough to make one himself, it would not have been out of character for him to have possessed such knowledge."

"It's always possible," Remus conceded. "Regardless, unless Voldemort manages to come across some long-forgotten cache of information, it's highly unlikely he would ever learn anything else about them."

"Could he penetrate the Society's defenses?" Sirius asked.

Remus pursed his lips. "Not if he doesn't know about them. If he knew about them, he might be able to. Their greatest weapon, though, is secrecy."

"Then I suggest we get down to the true purpose for this meeting," Dumbledore interjected, focusing the attention of the group back on the task at hand. "There are primarily two items that I wish to discuss today: first, I will share with you my suspicions about the objects Voldemort was intending to make into horcruxes, and second, we need to figure out what happened down in the chamber in Harry's second year.

"Now, I have spent years tracking Voldemort's movements and attempting to discover his secrets. I have managed to obtain many memories of those with whom he interacted, and I am using those to try to ascertain what he used, when he attempted to make them, and where he has hidden them."

"How long have you suspected he used horcruxes?" Harry asked.

"The horcrux specifically, only since your confrontation with the basilisk," Dumbledore replied with a grandfatherly smile. "I knew that he had boasted of having cheated death for some time before his fall, and I began to search for means which would allow a wizard to accomplish that feat. There are a few which could be said to enable one to 'cheat death.' As I researched, I began to narrow the field down, as it were, but it was your description of the way the horcrux interacted with you in the chamber which truly excited my suspicions." Dumbledore paused his recitation for a moment, before, seeming to come to a resolution, he looked again at Harry. "I will not tell you what source I was operating from, but it suggested that a horcrux could become corporeal in a spiritual sense. It was obviously wrong, given what we have discovered since, but that was the event that convinced me we were dealing with at least one horcrux. His appearance in your fourth year told me that it was more than one."

Dumbledore leaned back in his chair and his eyes closed as he thought. "You have to know Tom Riddle to even begin to understand his character. He grew up in an orphanage it is true, and yet, he has a sense of arrogance about him of a greater magnitude than in anyone else I have ever met. When I first met him I sensed a… not precisely a darkness, but an anger at the world and a sense of entitlement."

Opening his eyes, Dumbledore looked at everyone in the room in turn. "I assume that you all know something of his past, since I have told Harry to a certain extent." Harry nodded to indicate that he had passed on some of what he knew. "Very well. In brief, then, he was born to a Pureblood woman who was uneducated and downtrodden, and who was left to fend for herself as her father and brother had been sent to Azkaban. She ensnared a local Muggle with love potion, but he left her when she stopped giving it to him. She only lived long enough to give birth to him before she died. Thus, he grew up in an orphanage, teased and bullied by those about him.

"In fact, his mother's name was Merope Gaunt, and she was a direct descendent of Salazar Slytherin, though a minor line. It is also the only line of Slytherin's left in the world today.

"However, as he aged, Tom Riddle discovered and learned to control his powers to a certain extent, and used them against those who bullied him. It was not long before they left him strictly alone, not wishing to provoke his displeasure.

"As I said before, he has a sense of arrogance unlike any I've seen before. The diary which we discussed earlier was the first of his intended horcruxes and it was made when Myrtle was killed by the basilisk at his instigation."

Harry gasped. "Moaning Myrtle?"

"The same," the Headmaster confirmed. "This was the only horcrux he made with a commonplace item, though it was of great personal significance to him. From what I have been able to determine, he sought other artifacts of much higher significance and historical value with which to make his other horcruxes."

Harry was not precisely surprised. The Riddle he had met in the chamber had been handsome, but inordinately pleased with himself, and Voldemort in the graveyard had been supremely confident, believing in his own infallibility and his right to do whatever he desired. He was exactly the type of person to wish to rub his "immortality" in the faces of his enemies and the world in general.

"He was able to discover that he was the heir of Slytherin, and as he considered Slytherin to be the greatest of the founders, he naturally expanded that to mean that he was therefore the heir of all the founders. And as such, he considered the founders' artifacts to be his own property."

"He used artifacts from the founders to make his horcruxes," Sirius said flatly.

"I believe so. I have discovered what some of these artifacts are, though not all as of yet. There is a ring, belonging to Slytherin, which was in the possession of his grandfather. In fact, I have come close to tracking that one down, though I suppose it is now of no use to us."

"Perhaps not," Remus interjected, "but failed horcruxes are dangerous in their own right. It might not be an immediate concern, but we should track them down eventually, if only to prevent someone from finding and being hurt by them.

Inclining his head, Dumbledore continued with the explanation. "Other than the ring, I suspect that he used a locket which was owned by Slytherin, which leaves us with three. There was also a cup owned by Helga Hufflepuff which was stolen from a collector many years ago. The collector was murdered, and I believe that he attempted to make a horcrux from her death. Of the fifth horcrux I have not been able to uncover anything. The sixth, given what Remus has revealed, would be his familiar, Nagini. I suspect that she was the only one he created successfully as intended."

"But Professor," Hermione interrupted, "that would make seven horcruxes with Harry."

"Isn't that how many you said he created?" Harry asked, confused.

"Actually, Miss Granger is correct," the Headmaster replied. "He had intended to create six to go along with the soul currently residing in his body, for a total of seven separate pieces.

"Of course, you must recall that he has no knowledge of Harry being a horcrux," Dumbledore continued. "In his mind he had five before that night in 1981, and I suspect that he intended to make another with Harry's death."

The suggestion chilled Harry to the core. The Dark Lord had intended to make himself immortal with Harry's death. But instead, whatever Harry's mother had done had thwarted his ambitions, rendering him a disembodied spirit, and Harry had become the horcrux. Harry idly wondered if his parents were looking down on him and if his mother was looking on with horror at what her actions had wrought. Of course he could never blame her, though given his own disposition, he could understand why another might blame themselves over what had happened.

"Therefore, even if he had succeeded, he would never have had more than six active horcruxes, as Nagini is a new creation—only in the past year or so did he make her into a horcrux."

"Does that mean he will then try to make another?" Hermione asked, and by her expression, fearing the answer. "He thinks he only has five, so wouldn't another one be necessary?"

"It is difficult to say," Dumbledore replied. "Remember, he has an imperfect understanding of the nature of the soul. It is possible that he does not think that he can safely split his soul again, considering how he thinks he has already done it six times."

"Another thing we can be grateful for," Remus muttered.

"Indeed," Dumbledore replied.

"But how did I even become a horcrux?" Harry demanded.

It was Remus who provided the answer, such as it was. "You must understand that this is all guesswork, but my guess would be that he had already completed the ritual necessary to allow a portion of his soul to be withdrawn when he arrived at your house. The murder of your father provided the act which split his soul, and as you know, the soul fragment will always try to find a host if the intended vessel is unsuitable. When the piece of soul was extracted, it searched for a host and found one—you."

Fleur looked at Remus, her expression quizzical. "Would the soul piece specifically have chosen Harry?"

With a shrug, Remus said, "It's really academic at this point. It could be that it would simply have taken whoever was closer. If it had latched on to Lily, then it would have been destroyed with her death, and Harry would not have to deal with being a horcrux. The true question is this: was anyone else made into a horcrux when Voldemort attempted to make his other horcruxes."

All eyes turned to Dumbledore, and he chuckled slightly. "Although I would wish to have all the answers, I must admit that I do not. The murder which allowed the creation of Nagini as a horcrux is obviously irrelevant, as the snake would have been an acceptable vessel. I do know that when Hepzibah Smith was murdered for Hufflepuff's cup, that she was alone in the house.

"The ironic part of his killing of his father is that he killed his grandparents at the same time. The father's death would have freed the soul shard, which may have taken refuge in one of his grandparents, who were themselves then immediately murdered. Of course, that is also academic as they were Muggles and would not have been a acceptable hosts for the soul shard. The true question, I suppose, is how close a person has to be in order to attract the piece of spirit."

"It is not clearly documented," Remus replied. "All that is known is that it cannot be far. However, we know that Harry's father was killed, which would have allowed for the piece of spirit to be removed, and since Harry was upstairs in the cottage at the time, we know that the soul piece can at least move that far. But that is likely close to the extent of its range."

"Then if the murders were done in secret," Jean-Sebastian said, "we might be dealing with quite a few less than we thought, or he had wanted."

"There must be at least two, outside of whatever happened with the basilisk, which we will discuss later." Dumbledore ticked off a finger as he listed each one. "When Harry and his parents were attacked, I believe Voldemort had intended to make one. I do not know what object he had thought to insert his soul into, as I did not see anything out of the ordinary in the house, but however that may be, it is now irrefutable that Harry became one of his horcruxes. I am also reasonably certain that Nagini was made into a horcrux. The snake seems to be far more intelligent and he has far more control over it than one would expect of a normal familiar."

"Like I have any control over Hedwig," Harry mumbled.

Dumbledore smiled at him with true amusement reflected in the twinkling of his eyes. "Nor should you, Harry. Our familiars are more than just servants at our beck and call. They are true partners with minds of their own. They want the best for us, and what they believe to be the best, does not always agree with our own opinion."

He turned and smiled at Fawkes, who was sitting on his perch watching the proceedings. The phoenix trilled in response to Dumbledore's praise, before settling once again on his perch, though his attention never wavered from the rest of the room. That brief burst of phoenix song, however, did its work in providing a boost to the feelings of those in the room. Fawkes truly was a wondrous creature.

"Regardless," Dumbledore continued, "a true relationship with a familiar is not characterized by a level of control over one's familiar, but rather by the closeness which exists between the two. This may manifest itself in the familiar knowing and understanding your moods, being aware of your needs and desires, knowing what you wish when you ask something of it, and by a myriad of other ways. Have you ever found that Hedwig was close by in a situation where you needed her assistance? To carry a letter, perhaps?"

"She's shown up before I even have the letter written," Harry replied.

"Exactly!" the Headmaster enthused. "That is the familiar bond at its finest.

"By contrast, Voldemort appears—from the admittedly sporadic reports I have had on his interactions with Nagini—to be able to direct his familiar's behavior. I suspect that this is because the snake is a horcrux, though I admit that I cannot prove it."

"I believe we should operate under that assumption," Jean-Sebastian broke in, to the murmured agreement of everyone else in the room. "Your guesses are more often than not more factual than actual facts possessed by most others."

"You flatter me, Jean-Sebastian," Dumbledore replied, inclining his head. "But I thank you nonetheless."

A momentary silence fell as they all considered the import of Dumbledore's words. The snake would be difficult to get at—it was generally close to Voldemort, though Harry understood that it would sometimes patrol for him, and it was almost always allowed to leave Voldemort's lair to hunt for its food. And if it was influenced by a soul shard, then it was undoubtedly stronger and faster, making it an extremely dangerous beast indeed.

"So, we assume that there are two for now?" Sirius spoke into the silence.

"From what we know," Dumbledore agreed. "It seems apparent that there may be as many as two more, depending on exactly how the murders for the final two intended horcruxes were committed. I suspect that if those murders were committed in secret, there may not be any more at all.

"The only other matter to consider is that we have not yet discussed the basilisk incident."

Those ominous words cast Harry's thoughts back to that fateful day, the horror and the desperation of the struggle against the giant snake. He would be very happy if he never had to go through something like that again!

"The diary might not have been a horcrux," Harry said in a tone which brooked no opposition, "but there was definitely something going on there. I spoke with a shade of Riddle—it's how I learned his name."

"Could you have hallucinated it?" Remus asked. "As I recall, you were bitten by the basilisk, weren't you?"

"Yes, but I spoke with him long before I was bitten," Harry insisted. "And besides, if I had been seeing things, how did he tell me of his history, and how would I have learned his name? No, something was definitely there."

"If the diary was not a horcrux, then how could Riddle's soul have been there?" Hermione asked.

"I believe you are all missing the most obvious answer," Dumbledore interjected with a knowing smile directed at them all. When no one spoke up, Dumbledore elaborated. "Riddle created his first horcrux with the murder of Moaning Myrtle. Myrtle was killed by the gaze of a basilisk."

"The basilisk was the horcrux!" Remus exclaimed.

"I do believe so," was the Headmaster's reply.

Remus shook his head in wonder. "It's so obvious. How could I have missed that?"

"Sometimes the most obvious answers are those which are the most difficult to find."

It was a piece of sage wisdom Harry would have expected to come from the ancient wizard. But it still did not explain everything.

"Then why did Riddle's shade appear?" he demanded. "Or does this happen with every animal horcrux?"

"There was no mention of it in the records," Remus replied with a frown.

"I expect this is not a normal occurrence," Dumbledore stated. "I have given this some thought, and I believe that I may have an explanation of sorts, though I must stress that it is speculation.

"First, it seems unlikely that anyone has ever made any horcruxes of thousand-year-old basilisks, or any other creature possessing such power, for rather obvious reasons. Thus, I believe that the basilisk may have been somewhat unique as horcruxes go.

"Now, I believe, Remus, that you said items which were intended to be horcruxes are affected to a certain extent?" Remus nodded his head, seeming intrigued with where Dumbledore was going with this speculation. "I would postulate then, that there was a connection of sorts between the true horcrux—the basilisk—and the intended horcrux—the diary—which allowed the horcrux in the basilisk to control Ginevra Weasley."

"But that doesn't make any sense," Remus protested. "Surely if such a thing was possible, the records would have mentioned it."

"Ah, but as I said before, I doubt that so powerful a creature as an ancient basilisk has ever been made into a horcrux before."

Jean-Sebastian gazed at the Headmaster with some speculation. "You suspect that the basilisk's magic was able to provide the horcrux with the power to do this?"

"Yes," was Dumbledore's reply. "The diary was more than a simple diary and less than a horcrux. My suspicion is that the fact that it was supposed to house the piece of soul which eventually went to the basilisk formed a sort of connection to it from the actual soul shard. In this manner, it was able to reach out and influence Miss Weasley when the diary was finally brought into its range, show itself in a spiritual form and interact with you. When the basilisk subsequently died, it lost the ability to do so as it was vanquished along with the snake."

A positively ill feeling stole over Harry. "Riddle's shade bragged about being able to return," he said with some trepidation. "Could he have done it by sucking out Ginny's soul or something? There could have been two Riddles walking around."

"Though I can see why that would be horrific," Remus hastened to reply, "it is impossible. First, remember what we spoke of last time; a horcrux maker can return to life through a ritual to create a counterfeit body, or through following the connection back to a human horcrux. No other way exists.

"Beyond that, a soul is by its very nature, a singular entity, regardless of the ability to separate small portions of it; even if they do not reside in the body, the soul pieces which are attached to horcruxes are still part of the soul. The return of a man to life necessitates the presence of the main part of the soul—without it, the person cannot return to life. And there certainly cannot be more than one entity of a person in existence."

Harry considered what Remus said and had to admit that he was undoubtedly correct. It made sense, after all, though he was well aware that to a certain extent, the horcrux in and of itself defied sense. However, something still did not fit, though he was not able to put his finger on it. Something to do with the way the horcrux had been destroyed and how the shade had disappeared after. And the way it had…

Eyes shooting up, Harry looked intently at Remus. "What happens when a horcrux is killed?"

Though he appeared taken aback by Harry's suddenly intense stare, Remus ventured to make a response. "If a human is a horcrux, then the soul piece dies with it. The soul piece is too integrated in with the soul of the horcrux to survive its host's death."

"And an animal?"

"The same thing that happens when an unsuitable item is intended to be a horcrux," Remus replied, frowning in thought. "The connection is severed between the horcrux and the soul piece, and it searches for a new host."

An awful certainty filled Harry, and though he hesitated to voice his suspicions—a part of him cried out against even considering such a thing—there was no choice. One final thing needed to be clarified.

"Can the soul piece join another soul piece in an existing horcrux?"

Remus opened his mouth to respond, and then closed it abruptly. His eyes lost focus and he considered the matter for several moments, until, eventually, he looked back at Harry, his expression tentative.

"I don't know, Harry," he said quietly. "My suspicion is no, but I have no proof. An existing horcrux is already a subjugated soul, and I would think that another soul piece would reject it as unsuitable."

His fears crystallized in his mind, Harry forced himself to look up at Dumbledore. "Ginny Weasley was there," he forced out. "She was the only other one close enough. I think she's a horcrux."

Updated 06/09/2014