Oh, dear. It's been far, far longer than I intended for this new chapter to get out. All I can say is, I repeat my promise not to abandon, and thank you very much to all of you who are still reading and reviewed the last chapter!

Chapter 20

Stepping off the Knight Bus, Harry was relieved to see that it was only 8:15. He had some errands he wanted to run before meeting up with Hermione. The Magical Menagerie was the first place on his list. He hadn't forgotten his promise to himself that he would replace Neville's pet toad Trevor, after all.

When Harry arrived at the store, the clerk was just unlocking the door and flipping the sign in the window to the 'open' side. Harry stepped in, bidding the young woman a good morning. Since his scar was well covered by his hair, and he wasn't wearing his glasses anymore, she didn't recognize him, and for once Harry got to have the experience of being treated like a normal person as he shopped. The muggle stores in Little Whinging had treated him like a criminal who might rob the store blind, thanks to the Dursleys, while wizarding stores treated him like a celebrity, and it was rather nice to have neither of those scenarios occur.

"Can I help you?" the young woman asked solicitously.

"Well," Harry began, "my friend's birthday is coming up, and since he recently lost his pet toad, I thought he might like another pet."

"Oh, what a nice thing to do!" she cooed at him. "Do you know what sort of pet he'd like?"

Harry had originally thought he'd get Neville a Kneazle kitten. But he'd quickly thought the better of that idea. He had no idea if Neville even like cats, heck, for all he knew, the boy could be allergic to them. Plus, choosing a pet was a very personal decision, the kind that a person really needed to make for himself. Once he'd thought it over, he'd quickly realized that giving his friend a pet would actually be extremely inconsiderate. But he'd thought of another way he might be able to follow through on his idea.

"I actually have no idea," Harry admitted to the salesgirl. "I was thinking he might like a Kneazle kitten, but I thought he should be able to choose for himself. Do you have gift certificates or anything like that?"

She smiled, and replied, "Of course we do, and we usually recommend them for people who want to give a pet as a gift."

"Great!" Harry smiled back. "How do they work?"

"There are three levels. The first and least expensive allows the recipient to pick out their choice of any rat, toad, or rabbit. The second gives them their choice of any cat, dog, or snake. The third gives them a choice of any owl, Kneazle, or Krup."

"How much is the third, please?"

"Five galleons."

"And can they be used at your Hogsmeade location?"

"Of course."

"Excellent, I'll take one of the third level, please." Harry pulled out his wallet and counted up the requested amount as the clerk recorded the sale.

"Is there anything else I can do for you?" she asked.

"No...oh wait, yes!" Harry answered. "I've got one more gift to buy today. Do you know where I might find a shop that sells perfume?"

She thought about it for a moment. "There's a cosmetics store about one block down the road. Do you know that new joke shop? It's a big bright purple building...I can never remember what it's called...Willy's Wizard Wonka, or something like that, but you can't miss it. Anyway, the cosmetic store is called Witches Bag O'Tricks, and it's just behind the joke shop."

Harry smiled at that interpretation of the name of his friends' shop. "Thanks very much for your help," he said as he left the store.

It didn't take him long to find the cosmetic shop and purchase the perfume for Hermione, which was good, because he only had about five minutes before he needed to meet said witch for breakfast. He pulled his glasses out of his bag (the lenses were now clear, thanks to a clever spell of Tom's) and hurried for the pub. At 9:00 on the dot, Harry burst through the door of the Leaky Cauldron, panting slightly, as he'd needed to run to make it on time. Hermione was already there waiting for him, and she smiled as she saw her friend.

"Harry!" she squealed, as he walked over to her table. "I went ahead and ordered already, I hope you don't mind, but we are cutting it a bit close, and I didn't want to miss the train."

The train didn't leave until 11:00, but it was just like Hermione to insist on being there at least an hour early. "That's fine, Hermione," he replied. His best friend had been eating breakfast with him every morning for 5 years now, she knew what he liked.

"So how was your week?" Hermione asked, eyes gleaming.

"Well, without going into any of the sordid details, things are a little more official between us now," Harry answered.

"Oh, Harry, I'm so happy for you! I'm thrilled that you've found someone who can make you smile like that." She paused, as if uncertain whether she should continue.

Knowing his friend's curiosity was battling fiercely with her sense of politeness, Harry chuckled. "Whatever you want to ask, go ahead already. I might not answer, but I promise not to get mad."

"Can I meet him?" Hermione blurted out hopefully.

Harry had no idea how to respond to this question. He felt a wave of panic coming over him. Surely he was about to get caught. Hermione would realize there was something wrong, she would figure it out, and then she would go to Dumbledore, and he would never be allowed to see Tom again. Nor would Hermione ever speak to him again. Plus he'd probably be kicked out of Hogwarts, or maybe even sent to Azkaban.

Just as he thought he might start hyperventilating, the Gryffindor scarf around his neck started to grow faintly warm, and he felt a surge of calm wash over him.

Taking a deep breath, an answer came to him. "Er...I don't know if that's really such a good idea."

Hermione looked hurt. "Why not?" she replied, her voice carefully neutral.

"I don't want to put him in any danger. You're the only one who even knows I have a boyfriend, and I'd like it to stay that way. If word gets out that he's associated with me, it could be extremely dangerous for him. I know you'd never purposefully tell anyone about him, but we both know there are ways to get information out of unwilling people."

There, a reasonable explanation, and he hadn't even actually lied!

Hermione's eyes watered, and for a moment, Harry was afraid that he'd just made things worse. He was trying to find other words to explain the situation when he heard her say, "I understand, Harry. It's just so unfair that your life has to be like this. I'd give anything to have things be different for you."

Crying girls were still something on Harry's list of 'things I'd rather face another Hungarian Horntail than deal with,' but he had to try. He patted her arm awkwardly, and said, "Thanks, Hermione. It means a lot to me that you care." Following up on a sudden suspicion of his, he took the corners of his scarf and wiped her eyes. Sure enough, the tears stopped almost immediately, and his friend's face seemed to relax.

As convenient and useful as that feature was, it hadn't been listed in the description of the charms included on the scarf. Harry was going to have to have a talk with Helga.(1)

The two friends finished breakfast without further incident, got to the train station with 45 minutes to spare (which still made Hermione a bit nervous), and rode back to school. Both of them got out books to read, and Harry was relieved that he wouldn't have to continue to make conversation. He'd just realized that there was a very real possibility that once his relationship with Tom got out, his friends would abandon him.

Could he make them understand what Tom meant to him? If he, Harry, who'd suffered far more harm at the hands of Lord Voldemort than any of his friends, could not only forgive the man, but fall in love with him, wasn't it possible that some of his friends could at least understand Harry's position?

These thoughts kept him occupied for most of the rest of the train ride. When the Head Boy stopped in to announce their imminent arrival at Hogwarts, Harry shifted his thoughts back to Hogwarts, and all of the things that awaited him at the castle.

HP/LV*HP/LV* HP/LV* HP/LV* HP/LV* HP/LV* HP/LV* HP/LV* HP/LV* HP/LV*HP/LV*HP/LV* HP/LV* HP/LV* HP/LV* HP/LV* HP/LV* HP/LV* HP/LV* HP/LV*

The first thing he needed to do was to meet with Dumbledore. The ministry gala had taken place a week before the spring holiday, so it would already be slightly suspicious that Harry had waited so long to bring in the memory. Immediately upon arriving at the castle, Harry went to the professor's office with the little bottle Tom had given him.

"Good afternoon, Harry," the old man began, looking quite grave. Harry wondered what the reason could be for the look.

"Good afternoon, sir," Harry replied. "Professor, I've got the—"

"There is something I need to tell you," Dumbledore interrupted.

Harry was taken aback. He'd never heard Dumbledore interrupt anyone before. "What is it, sir?"

"The Dursleys are missing." The look on Dumbledore's face was sympathetic, not accusatory, and his tone was gentle, not cold, so Harry assumed that he was not under any suspicion.

"I see," he responded. He paused for a moment. "When did they go missing? Do you think they're still alive?" he asked calmly. He didn't think he needed to appear overly concerned. It would be an obvious act. As long as he didn't appear to be happy, slightly callous seemed all right.

Dumbledore sighed. "I undertook to interview the neighbours, and the Wednesday before the spring holidays began was the last time they were seen at home."

"Are you sure something happened to them? They didn't just go on a long holiday or something?"

"If they did, they did not inform any of their acquaintances, nor Vernon's work. Mr. Dursley's boss was quite unhappy to have one of his employees fail to show up without giving any sort of notice. No, Harry, I believe we can be fairly certain that foul play was involved."

"Oh. So...if Voldemort was keeping them alive to use as hostages to lure me into a trap, I'd probably have heard from him by now. And he knows me better than that, anyway."

Dumbledore did not give a verbal response. He simply nodded sadly.

"All right, then. Should we continue with our meeting now?"

"Harry, my boy, you've just had a terrible shock. Surely you'd like to take the afternoon off?"

"No, sir. I...I don't mean to be rude, and I won't speak ill of the dead, but..." (Harry made his voice tremble just a bit) "I can't be truly sorry they're gone. I lost the last of my family fifteen years ago. All I can be sorry for is the people they could have been, and I finished mourning for that a long time ago. Now, I've got something important to give you."

Harry was fairly certain that Dumbledore would drop the issue of the Dursleys once he saw the memory vial, and he was not proven wrong.

"You got it!" the old man exclaimed.

"Yes, sir."

Dumbledore did not even ask how Harry had obtained the memory, which was probably just as well, but still left him feeling a bit miffed over all the work he'd put into it the story for nothing. He just pulled the Pensieve out of its cabinet.

"Now, my boy, we will see the truth..." The memory was poured out into the silvery basin, and Harry and the Headmaster entered together.

The memory began the same way that it had in the first version. Everything remained the same until Slughorn commented on Tom's future. Rather than denounce the boy, as the rotund professor had done in the apocryphal memory, Slughorn proclaimed that he would become Minister of Magic within twenty years. Then the memory continued as it had before, until Tom got to the pertinent question.

"Sir, I wondered what you know about...about Horcruxes?"

Rather than immediately denying any knowledge of the topic, Slughorn stared at Tom, his thick fingers absentmindedly caressing the stem of his wine glass.

"Project for Defense Against the Dark Arts, is it?"

But Harry could tell that Slughorn knew perfectly well that this was not schoolwork.

"Not exactly, sir," said Tom. "I came across the term while reading and I didn't fully understand it."

Tom wheedled more information out of Slughorn, and Harry was once again forcibly impressed by Tom's abilities at manipulation. Slughorn explained what a Horcrux was, and the basics of how it was created. Harry already knew this information, and he knew that Dumbledore did, too, so this obviously wasn't why this particular memory had been needed. What could Dumbledore have been looking for? He got his answer quickly enough. Dumbledore wanted to know how many Horcruxes there were. Tom asked Slughorn about the number of Horcruxes it would be possible to make.

"What I don't understand, though—just out of curiosity—I mean, would it be possible to make more than one Horcrux? Can you only split your soul once? Seven is the most powerfully magical number, well, for Light Wizards anyway. But obviously only a Dark Wizard would do this, and six is the most powerful number in Dark Magic. But splitting your soul that many times would probably destabilize your mind and your magic. You'd risk going insane. Perhaps three, then, it's also a strong number—"

"Merlin's beard, Tom!" yelped Slughorn. "Horcruxes are evil, don't you understand that? Bad enough to even think of creating one, but debating how many pieces to rip the soul into?"

The memory played on, and Slughorn tried to reassure himself that Tom was only asking out of pure intellectual curiosity. He would intentionally deceive himself rather than believe that he had just given such terrible information to a man who would make use of it.

As they left the memory, Dumbledore looked troubled. "I had hoped that this memory would confirm a suspicion of mine. I had long suspected that Tom had created seven Horcruxes, and I thought this memory would prove me right...instead it reveals one other possibility."

Although Harry knew perfectly well why three Horcruxes was immediately discounted as a possibility, he didn't think he was supposed to know, so he asked. "Don't you mean two other possibilities, sir?"

"No. I have already discovered three objects that I knew to be Horcruxes, and there are still several more objects that I strongly suspect."

"The diary was one, wasn't it, sir?"

"Yes. When you handed me that diary, and described what had happened, what you described to me was a phenomenon I had never witnessed. A mere memory starting to act and think for itself? A mere memory, sapping the life out of the girl into whose hands it had fallen? No, something much more sinister had lived inside that book...a fragment of soul, I was almost sure of it. But this raised as many questions as it had answered. I did not believe that, had the diary been Lord Voldemort's only Horcrux, he would have treated it in such a cavalier manner. No, I knew there had to be others. Then you yourself confirmed it for me, two years later, on the night Voldemort returned to a corporeal form. You told me of a most illuminating and alarming statement Voldemort made to his Death Eaters: 'I, who have gone further than anybody along the path that leads to immortality.' Further than anybody—though his Death Eaters did not understand what he meant, I did."(2)

"So...what do we do now? If we assume there are seven, we could spend forever searching for one that doesn't exist. But if we assume there are six, we could destroy him only to have him return once again."

"I do not know, Harry. I shall have to think on this." He continued softly, as though to himself, "I was so certain this memory would have the answer..." Then he cleared his throat. "Nevertheless, well done, Harry, well done indeed. I knew you could do it. Now, sleep well, and I shall see you Thursday evening for your Occlumency lesson."

Harry left the office quickly. He headed up toward Gryffindor tower, just in case he was being watched. Once he'd gotten past the Fat Lady, however, he Disillusioned himself, pulled on his Cloak to be extra careful, and whispered, "§enter.§" He had a basilisk egg to check up on, after all.

When he arrived, Salazar had obviously been waiting for him. "Good evening, lion cub," the spirit greeted him.

"Hey Salazar," Harry answered. "So?"

"So what?" Salazar replied teasingly.

"The egg, of course. How is it doing?"

"I believe you pointed out before that there a hatching egg actually holds very little interest. It's still sitting there, though you are perfectly free to go have a look."

Harry did as the man suggested, and approached the cage where he'd left the toad and the egg. As he approached, he felt a small tingle in the air, which seemed to get stronger as he got nearer. When he got up close, the egg seemed to be ever so slightly glowing.

"Merlin!" Harry exclaimed. "That definitely didn't happen last time."

"Really?" Salazar asked drily. "Whatever do you mean?"

"The egg…it's almost humming with magic," Harry answered.

"Oh, good! I wasn't certain if you were sensitive to magical currents or not. Yes, lion cub, this time, it seems that our experiment will be successful."

"Well, let's not count our basilisks before they're hatched," Harry quipped. "How long has it been doing that?"

"It started the day after you left, actually, though it was very faint. Since then, it's grown stronger every day."

Harry smiled. "I think it's going to work this time."

Salazar smiled back. "So do I, Harry. Now, how was your vacation?"

"It was great! I had a wonderful time with Hermione and her family. They showed me around muggle London. Hey, did you know that Buckingham Palace has 78 bathrooms?"

"Yes, yes, that's lovely Harry, but you know perfectly well that's not what I meant."

"Oh! You meant the week I spent with Tom, right?" Harry smirked.

"If you don't get to the point soon, I will let this basilisk bite you when it hatches."

"All right, all right. Well, I'd say we accomplished quite a bit. For example…" Harry shifted into his panther form and pranced about for a bit.

Salazar's jaw dropped. "You two share animagus forms?"

Harry shifted back. "Yes, it would seem so. But hey, I learned how to do it. Aren't you proud of me?"

"Exceedingly so, lion cub. Or panther cub, I suppose I should say."

Harry scoffed. "Seeing as I'm not a cub of any sort, you could just call me Harry."

"No, you're definitely more furry than hairy," Salazar retorted.

"Did you want to hear about the rest of the week or not? After all, I'm sure Helga's waiting to hear about it, too, and I could always talk to her first…"

"You wouldn't," Salazar glared.

"Try me." Harry started to pull on his cloak as if to leave.

"Okay, Harry, you win for now. So tell me about the rest of the week."

"Well, for starters, Tom got me a little gift in honour of the visit."

"Which was?"

"My so-called family, the ones that Dumbledore left me with for all these years. Thanks, by the way."

"You're welcome. What am I being thanked for?"

"Helping me learn the Unforgiveables. The Dursleys were going to be used as teaching tools, and Tom was really impressed by the fact that I could already do all three curses."

Harry described the rest of his week to Salazar, including the assassination of Dolores Umbridge, how Tom had helped him transform to his panther shape, and the raid on Auror training headquarters. When he had finished, Salazar looked at him thoughtfully.

"So Tom has decided to take you as his Consort," the spirit remarked.

"Yes," Harry beamed. "Why, don't you think it's a good idea?"

"My dear Harry, it's precisely what I hoped would happen. I couldn't imagine anyone better for either of you. When will it happen?"

"Tom didn't say for sure, but he implied that it would be either on or right after my 17th birthday."

"Did he explain the ritual, or what it will mean?" Salazar wanted this to happen, and he didn't even mind Harry committing to it under the influence of the love potion, but he did want to be sure that the boy knew exactly what he was getting himself into.

"Er…no, not really. We didn't really have a lot of time. But he did point out two books in the library here that he said would explain it."

"No patience, that one. Well, then, why don't you go ahead and take those two books, then go to bed? You've had a long day, and I'm sure Tom is anxious to speak with you."

Harry yawned. "I'd like to, and I hate to keep Tom waiting, but I still need to speak to Helga."

"Tomorrow, Harry. I'll speak to her tonight and let her know that she'll see you tomorrow."

"All right," Harry agreed reluctantly. "But don't tell her about the Consort part yet. I want to tell her myself."

"You have my word," Salazar promised. Harry Disillusioned himself, put on his cloak, and headed back to Gryffindor tower and his bed.

1. Actually, Helga did tell him...sort of. Cookies if you can figure it out! Double cookies if you know what Helga's gift is (though I think it's pretty obvious by now...)

2. I have obviously heavily borrowed from, though not exactly copied, HBP, US Hardcover edition, pages 495-501.

Reviewing this story is like supporting funding for music and the arts in elementary school--it encourages future creativity. *The More You Know*