Note: Dark still only has a fairly minor part, but he'll play a much bigger role later on (not for a few chapters though, I think).
Chapter 5
"Lemon sherbet?"
"Er, no thank you, Professor. You wanted to see me?" Harry politely declined.
"To business then. Have you ever heard of a horcrux?" Dumbledore enquired.
"No, Professor, what's that?" Harry asked.
"A horcrux is an object - any object - containing a fragment of someone's soul. It is one of the darkest of dark arts because a horcrux is made with the act of murder. I believe that Lord Voldemort made several horcruxes, and that the diary you destroyed in your second year was one of them. The horcruxes keep him from truly being killed while even one of them is intact. As for the locations of the others, I have no idea as yet," Dumbledore explained.
Harry appeared to deliberate silently for a moment, but in reality he was consulting Dark.
The locket! The locket was a horcrux! Harry realised. That horrible voice did sound like him, he commented. Should I tell Dumbledore?he asked Dark.
Yes, Dark advised, He can help find the others.
Finally Harry admitted aloud, "Professor, I think I know where one of them is. It's dead, sir."
"Oh?" Dumbledore asked.
"Yes sir, it's in my trunk. Howit's dead is a bit of a long story, sir," Harry told him.
"We have time, Harry," Dumbledore assured him with a twinkle in his eyes.
So Harry told his story in as much detail as he could. Dumbledore listened with great interest and finally said, "That is good news. I suspect Lord Voldemort hid some of his horcruxes in hard-to-reach places, like the Hikari artwork. If Mr Mousy is as good a thief as I remember the Kaitou Kid being, his help would be of great aid to us in this endeavour."
Harry felt Dark twitch at being referred to as Mr Mousy. A moment later Dark said, Let me talk to him.
Harry acquiesced and, after only minimal pain, Dark sat in his place.
"Mr Mousy, I presume?" Dumbledore asked.
Dark involuntarily twitched again and said, "Just Dark. Nobody ever calls me Mr Mousy."
"Then you must call me Albus," Dumbledore insisted.
"Okay, Albus, do you know what the other horcruxes are?" Dark asked.
"I have one - a ring belonging to Voldemort's grandfather - here in my office. I have been unable to destroy it as yet," Dumbledore admitted.
"I'll seal it right now. Where is it?" Dark asked.
Dumbledore opened his bottom desk drawer and pulled out an ugly gold ring with a cracked black stone and set it down on the far side of his desk. Dark, in turn, pulled out a feather. Once Dumbledore was out of the line of fire he set about sealing it.
Once the ring had gone still and quiet Dark relaxed, slumping a bit and breathing slightly harder than normal.
"Well done, my boy," Dumbledore congratulated him with twinkling eyes and a pleased smile. Dark preened a bit before letting Harry come back.
"Please don't feed the ego, Professor," he said, wincing at Dark's reaction to this comment.
Dumbledore chuckled and said, "I believe it is nearly time for Defence. If you hurry you should make it to the dungeons before your friends do."
"Yes sir. If you find out where one of the other horcruxes is..."
"I shall inform you, Harry."
Harry nodded and left the headmaster's office. Halfway down a staircase he felt Dark start thinking hard. After a few minutes Dark decided to voice his thoughts.
Your scar's a horcrux.
Harry tripped in surprise. Huh?
That's why it feels like the locket and the ring.
I've got a bit of Voldemort inside me? Yuck!
I'll seal it tonight: better hurry up so you don't get in trouble.
Harry quickened his pace and made the rest of his journey to the appropriate classroom at a brisk trot. Within moments of his arrival inside the Defence classroom, which already held most of his Gryffindor classmates, he heard running footsteps approaching. A few seconds later Ron and Hermione rounded the corner opposite from where he had come from. He cocked an eyebrow at Hermione, who flushed a bit as she sat down and claimed to have found a fascinating book in the library which had kept her too busy to notice the time.
About a minute after they had all found their seats and pulled out their equipment Snape came sweeping in, his robes billowing out behind him like a large, black cloud – or a pair of bat wings.
"Welcome to Defence Against the Dark Arts,'" he told the class, looking disturbingly pleased. "Today we will begin studying the Patronus charm. It is a very difficult spell that I doubt any of you will be capable of mastering: however, it will be a very necessary spell for you to know in the future. The Dark Lord will eventually call the Dementors to him: when this happens, you must be able to defend yourselves. The incantation is Expecto Patronum. As you speak the incantation, focus on a happy memory. This will be much more difficult when faced with a Dementor. Potter! Let us see your attempt at performing this spell."
Harry stood up, drew his wand and calmly cast, "Expecto Patronum." The great silver stag erupted from his wand, galloped around the room and finally came to a halt in front of him. It looked him straight in the eye before fading away. He glanced at Snape and saw the sour look on his face.
Snape told Harry to sit down and then ignored him, turning instead to the rest of the class. "Well, what are you waiting for? Start casting!"
The room was promptly filled with frustrated shouts of "Expecto Patronum! Expecto Patronum!" and faint wisps of silver mist which promptly faded out. Poor Neville was so afraid of Snape that he was unable even to produce the faintest hint of silver. Snape swooped down on him and started making him even more uncomfortable.
By the end of the lesson, Neville was so miserable that Harry headed straight for him and, before he even realised what he was saying, he told Neville, "If you want, I can help you with your Patronus?"
Neville looked exceedingly relieved. "Really, Harry? Thanks!"
"Really. Let's go find an empty classroom."
That evening Ron and Hermione entered the appointed classroom to find... no-one.
"Guess Harry's not here," Ron stated the obvious. They turned towards the door - only to spin round in tandem as they heard the sound of wings flapping.
A tall figure with long, spiky hair and - wings? – stood by the now-open window, silhouetted in the moonlight. Hermione whipped out her wand and cast "Lumos!", brightening the dimly-lit room.
"Who are you and where's Harry?" she demanded.
"Harry isn't here right now," the figure, who was obviously male, answered. He appeared to be in his late teens or early twenties, and for some reason his hair was purple. His wings were very large and black, as though someone had enlarged a crow's wings and stuck them on his back. "I'm the great phantom thief, Dark Mousy!"
"What have you done with Harry? Who do you work for?" Hermione asked, already going over a list of spells to use on him, and any possible ways to get Professor McGonagall there.
Dark just smirked and the next thing they knew, a slightly rumpled Harry was standing there with Wiz perched on his shoulder.
"Harry? What's going on?" Ron wanted to know.
"Er... it's a long story. Let's sit down," Harry suggested, gesturing to the empty desks. He quickly cast a silencing charm on the room before taking a seat. Once Ron and Hermione were seated he continued. "You remember last year, when the Death Eaters kidnapped me with that portkey? They were trying to do this ritual involving "blood of the enemy" which was supposed to bring Voldemort back, only lightning struck the cauldron and the explosion knocked Wormtail back and next thing I knew my body was sort of moving without my say-so, and it wasn't the Imperius curse... And then, in the hospital wing, I had this dream or vision or something where I met Dark. He's from something like eight years in the future and..."
As Harry's story came to a close he could tell Hermione had gone into research mode and clearly wanted to head straight to the library. Ron, however, dragged her attention away by asking,
"So what did Dumbledore want?"
"He wanted to know if I knew what a horcrux was: he reckons that's what Voldemort's diary was," Harry told them.
"What's a horcrux?" Hermione wanted to know.
Harry explained what Dumbledore told him and then said, "My scar's a horcrux."
"What?" Hermione asked.
"Part of Voldemort's soul is stuck in my scar," Harry continued. "Dark's going to seal it tonight."
"Won't that be dangerous?" Hermione asked, worried.
"I don't have much of a choice. As long as the horcrux is unsealed, Voldemort can't really be killed," Harry told her.
"Alright, but I don't have to like it. If I don't see you in one piece tomorrow morning I'll be very upset with you!" Hermione threatened him. "And you can tell Dark that too!"
Harry nodded meekly, fearing her temper and impressive arsenal of spells. After a moment of comfortable silence he said, "You'd better go. We don't know what's going to happen when Dark starts sealing the horcrux. He's told me some stories about what cursed art can do and, well..."
Hermione looked torn between amusement and exasperation. "You and your saving-people thing." Harry smiled sheepishly but stayed firm in his request.
"Good luck, mate," Ron told Harry before making he and Hermione made their way toward Gryffindor tower.
Once Ron had gone Harry cast a cushioning charm on the floor before moving to the centre of the room and sitting down cross-legged. He took a deep breath as Dark started work sealing the horcrux.
Sorry for the long wait: I had to research and write a miniature thesis for my work practice at school. Finished it just before the deadline – and spent my entire two-week Christmas holiday recovering! Since then I've been too distracted by school (and sick – I had an honest-to-goodness case of the influenza!) to work on IR much. At least I've graduated now.