"This hopelessness that drowns
All that I believe
Will be
The one thing…
That I need"
-For You Only
Chapter 12: Details Are Everything
Disclaimer: I own the plotline, nothing else.
"Blood Pops," Harry told the large stone gargoyle as he reached the Headmaster's office that night. After making his way up the spiral stairs, he knocked upon the door and made his way inside the small, dusty old room.
"Harry, my boy," Dumbledore greeted the young Gryffindor. "Lemon drop?" he offered.
"Oh, no thank you," he politely declined before taking his seat in front of the Professor's desk.
Dumbledore merely sighed before sitting back down before the younger boy. Deciding to get to the point, he started with what he knew would be a rather long conversation. "I'm sure you must be wondering why I asked you here tonight," he started.
Remaining silent, Harry simply nodded his head.
"As you very well know," the older wizard went on, "Voldemort officially returned two years ago."
Not seeing the reason in his statement, the teen gave off an utterly confused look causing the Headmaster to chuckle.
"I know, dear boy," he stifled further laughing, "I merely state the obvious only because it is an important fact as to what I am about to divulge to you tonight."
"Okay," Harry nodded once more, waiting for his mentor to get to the point.
"Right," he sighed, gathering his thoughts, "Let me start with a simple question," he looked directly into the emerald eyes before him, "Would you say there is a Professor here at Hogwarts that you spend more time with as opposed to the others? Is there perhaps a teacher you feel more comfortable in confiding in? Basically," Dumbledore elaborated further, "Is there a faculty member at this school that you trust more so than the rest of us?"
Immediately thinking of Hagrid, Harry slowly nodded his head, "Yeah, I suppose," he then eyed the man skeptically, "Why?"
"Throughout his years as a student, Tom also had a professor, like many students do," he added, not wanting to compare the-boy-who-lived and his nemesis further than necessary, "That he turned to with all of his questions and such. This man, is the one in which he shared what we now know to be vital information. Without this knowledge, there would be no hopes in defeating Voldemort."
"What is it, sir?" Harry asked, practically sitting on the edge of his seat now. He was desperate for any information that would help him be rid of the man who destroyed the lives of so many others, including his own.
"All in good time," Dumbledore reassured the boy that he would get to that eventually. "For now, I think it would benefit you to know just who this man is," he told the teen who then reluctantly agreed. "Horace Slughorn," the Headmaster told him, "Was the Potions Master here at Hogwarts prior to Professor Snape. He was the man Tom sought advice from."
"I've never heard of him," Harry shook his head negatively. "What was it that Voldemort told him?" he asked again, becoming slightly frustrated. "Why is it so important?"
"Harry, do you know what a horcrux is?"
The searching look upon the boy's face was enough to tell the elder man he hadn't the slightest idea.
"A horcrux," Dumbledore went on to define, "is a very powerful object in which a Dark wizard or witch has hidden a fragment of his or her soul for the purpose of attaining immortality."
Harry's face instantly paled. How was he supposed to defeat the creature if he was immortal?
Sighing at the pained look upon his student's face, the Headmaster continued, "To create such an object, one must split his or her soul."
The Gryffindor winced at the very aspect of even trying to do that. Not only did it sound incredibly painful, it seemed disgusting as well.
"To split one's soul," Dumbledore went on, "One must commit a supreme act of evil, such as murder. Killing rips the soul apart," he bluntly stated, "And once this is done, he or she can then encase that portion of their fractured soul into an object of their choice. A horcrux can be made of almost anything, you see. That," he said disappointedly, "Can make these items particularly difficult to trace."
"So, what you're saying is," Harry went to asked almost inaudibly, "Voldemort has hidden parts of his soul all over the world to prevent himself from ever dying?"
Dumbledore confirmed his thoughts by just nodding his head rather sadly.
"Then it's hopeless," Harry took a deep breath, trying to refrain from becoming angry. "We don't even know how many of these he's made, let alone where the bloody things are."
"Actually, my dear boy, that is not the case at all." The teen immediately looked up at his mentor before he kept on. "This is why I summoned you here tonight."
"On the night of Lord Voldemort's return," Dumbledore began his explanation, "Fear sparked throughout the entire Wizarding World. It was this fear that drove my old colleague, Horace, to meet with me shortly after. Although my poor friend was terribly frightened at the idea of sharing his past mistakes with me," the older man admitted, "After the sobering fact that so many lives were at stake and after quite a few drinks, might I add," he put in with a small smile, "Professor Slughorn released his memories over for me to look at via pensieve," the man then gestured over to where the artifact remained. "I would like you to see it, Harry," he told the young boy.
A bit nervous as to what he might see, Harry slowly agreed to do so before following the Headmaster over to what looked like just a small bowl. He watched as the older man carefully grabbed a small vial off the shelf beside them and poured its contents into the pensieve. Moments later, the two wizards found themselves in Slughorn's old office, about to witness a somewhat historical event.
"Well, well, it can't hurt to give you an overview, of course. Just so that you understand the term," Harry watched as Professor Slughorn was about to hand this extremely dangerous information over to the soon-to-be most feared wizard of all time. "A Horcrux is the word used for an object in which a person has concealed part of their soul."
"I don't quite understand how that works, sir," Harry looked over to where the other boy stood. This version of Voldemort may have looked less like the monster he was today, but he was certainly just as intimidating. The look on young Tom's face was almost frightening. The eagerness the Slytherin displayed in trying to obtain such information was disturbing to say the least.
"Well, you split your soul, you see, and hide part of it in an object outside the body. Then, even if one's body is attacked or destroyed, one cannot die, for part of the soul remains earthbound and undamaged. But, of course, existence in such a form…few would want it, Tom, very few," Harry watched as Professor Slughorn looked away from the odd desire in the other teen's eyes. Instead, the former Potions Master focused on the necklace his student wore upon his neck as a means of distraction before reluctantly continuing on with the conversation, "Death would be preferable."
Clearly not agreeing with his Professor, young Riddle pushed on, toying with the ring on his finger as his did so, "And how exactly does one split his soul?"
Horace became completely flustered at that question. He obviously had no desire in passing this knowledge along to his student. Still, it was only a few minutes later that both Dumbledore and Harry found themselves watching the old teacher do exactly that.
Upon exiting the pensieve and leaving that vile memory behind, Harry found himself breathing hard and looking about ready to pass out in the Headmaster's opinion.
"Take a seat, dear boy," he said as more of an order than a suggestion.
No moments were spared, for after his teacher told him to do that, Harry quickly rushed back over to his seat and gathered his thoughts.
"Why'd you ask me to watch that?" Harry breathed out. "Everything in there was exactly what you already told me!" he couldn't help but to raise his voice. The Gryffindor knew what he was just forced to witness would be replaying over and over in his mind for the many months to come.
Dumbledore sighed as he, once again, took the seat behind his desk. "The words distributed between the two were not what I intended for you to focus on, Harry," he admitted. "I had hoped you would have paid more attention to the smaller details throughout that scene."
"What do you mean, sir?" Harry asked, taking yet another deep breath in order to calm himself.
"Harry, do you remember the diary you found in your second year? The one you stabbed with the basilisk fang?" the Headmaster replied. It annoyed the boy to no end whenever the older man took to answering his questions with just another inquiry.
"Yeah, why?" he urged his mentor to get on with it.
"That, my boy," Dumbledore looked at Harry with his infamous twinkling eyes, "Was one of the horcruxes."
A/N: Hey guys!
So, since the holidays are just around the corner, I decided to post this chapter up a bit earlier seeing that I won't be updating most likely until around the 2nd-3rd of January.
I'm incredibly happy that you're all enjoying the story so far!
Please, keep reviewing to let me know what you think and whether or not I should keep on.
I know this chapter may not have been the most interesting, but it is very important to the new plot, I assure you.
Happy Holiday's! I wish you all the best! xx
(Slughorn Memory provided by J.K Rowling's Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince)