Chapter Fifty-Three: The Aftermath

Harry awoke in the hospital wing several hours later. His body felt stiff and heavy as he tried to roll on his side and grab his glasses. From his vantage point, he could see three figures sitting around his bed slumped over in their seats. He quietly grabbed his glasses and climbed out of his bed.

He could see the early morning sun pouring into the windows of the hospital wing as he padded down the room. The quiet snoring emitting from his godfather was filling his ears while he walked. Harry looked into each curtained off area to see if any of his friends were there in the hospital with him. It didn't take him long to realize all of the beds were empty and he was the only patient in the ward. He quietly sat on the edge of the bed closest to the door and laid back down, his eyes staring at the ceiling as he tried to recall the events that occurred below the school.

A tall shadow crossed over Harry's face, causing his heart to jump out of his chest and his eyes widen as sweat formed on the back of his neck. He quickly sat up to look at the intruder, silently wondering how they had managed to enter the ward without alerting not only Harry but his family as well. Harry found himself looking into the smiling face of Albus Dumbledore.

"Another year gone," Dumbledore began, "Another year Lord Voldemort has been delayed in returning."

"So, he didn't get the stone, then?" Harry asked, his eyes wide and deep as they bore into the brilliant blue ones before him.

Dumbledore shook his head, "No, he didn't. You and Mr. Malfoy's efforts stalled Voldemort long enough for my intervention. The stone has been moved to a more secure place before it was destroyed."

"Dest—what about Mr. and Mrs. Flamel? Won't they—"

"Yes, they will die," Dumbledore interrupted, "They have enough elixir to sort their many affairs."

Harry frowned, "But, aren't they scared?"

"Harry, something you'll learn if you ever have the opportunity to live as long as I have that, eventually, the last great adventure is death. The Flamel's have lived for more than six lifetimes—they are more than ready for that next, great adventure."

"And Voldemort?" Harry whispered as he averted his eyes.

"Gone. For now, in any case. He fled upon my arrival to the mirror chamber."

Harry looked Dumbledore in the eye, "And Draco? Is he ok?"

"Draco is well and has been demanding to allow himself, Ms. Granger, and Mr. Weasley to see you in your sick bed. Madam Pomfrey has denied these requests."

"Sir? Can I ask you a question?"

"I believe you already have," Dumbledore responded before smiling softly, "But you may ask me one more. And I will answer it truthfully, if I can answer it."

"Why—" Harry hesitated and glanced back over toward his bed and lowered his voice, "Why did Voldemort choose me? Why does he want to—to kill me?"

"Ah," Dumbledore said, "I believe you have hit the proverbial nail on the head by asking the one question I cannot answer today. Someday, yes, but not today."

"But—"

"Is that really your decision, Albus?" a cool, deep voice said from the other side of the curtain.

Harry jumped as the curtain was pulled aside to reveal a sleep-ridden, and rumpled Sirius Black, "Wouldn't that be James' decision and not yours, Albus? James is Harry's father. Or, do you think you're so all-knowing that you know James' decisions before he's made them?"

"I believe that James and I are on the same page, so to speak, on this subject."

Sirius jerked his thumb over his shoulder, "We could ask him right now if there's an issue. Personally, I think Harry deserves to know."

Dumbledore frowned, "Unfortunately, Sirius, that is not your decision."

"No, it's not. But it's James' and he's right over there. Why don't I go get him?"

Dumbledore stood up and clasped his hands together as he looked at Sirius over the rim of his half-moon spectacles, "I believe this is where I shall take my leave. I hope your recovery continues to go well, Harry."

"Come here, Harry," Sirius demanded, his eyes never leaving Dumbledore's.

Harry scrambled over and jumped into Sirius' arms, hugging his godfather tightly. Sirius flung his arm around Harry, his other on his hip, as he watched Dumbledore stride out of the room. Once the door closed, Harry could feel Sirius' body relax.

Sirius carefully knelt down next to Harry so he could look the boy in the eye and put his hands on Harry's shoulders, "Are you ok, BK?"

Harry nodded, "I don't remember much of what happened."

Sirius sighed, his eyes hardening, "That's because you, in your infinite wisdom, drank. Poison."

"I—er—I guess I did?" Harry asked as he tried to recall the events that would have led up to him drinking poison. Who willfully drinks poison?

"Yeah, you did. I ought to give you a more fitting nickname because of this. Do you know how stupid that was? You almost died!" A soft sob ripped out of Sirius' throat as he attempted to hide it with a cough.

Suddenly, Sirius pulled Harry into a bear hug, holding the boy close with one hand on his head, his nose pressed into Harry's messy hair.

"You stupid, stupid idjit."

Harry simply buried his face into Sirius' chest and inhaled the rich scent of cinnamon and vanilla and murmured, "You've been baking without me."

Sirius let out a deep chuckle, the scruff of his beard tickling the top of Harry's head, "I was nervous. I made you some snickerdoodles."

Unable to control himself, Harry burst out laughing at the absolute normality of Sirius' comment. After everything that had happened over the last few days, the idea of Sirius baking cookies was simply amusing. And Harry's laugh was a disease infecting Sirius the moment he heard the trill sounds of the child's happiness, forcing a barking laugh out of his chest.

"What's all this ruckus?" Remus asked as he walked up to the pair laughing on the floor, "Are we having a floor party now?"

Harry glanced at Sirius and nodded as he tackled Remus's legs, "Uncle Padfoot, help!"

Sirius let out a roar and pulled a struggling and laughing Remus to the ground. "Floor party!" Sirius yelled.

"James, help!" Remus cried out, a wide smile on his face as he held his hand up to the tall, dark-haired man smiling above him.

"No problem, Moony!" James exclaimed as he jumped onto the pile of bodies below him and wriggled around, "Well, this is quite a comfortable bed. Much better than that chair. I think I'll take a nap here instead!"

"Dad, no!" Harry cried out as he gave James a light shove, "You'll squish us!"

"Are you calling me fat?" James asked as he clutched his chest, "My own flesh and blood?"

Harry rolled his eyes and shoved his dad again, "No. But I am half your size and still recovering!"

All three adults froze and looked down at the tiny human huddled between them, breath leaving their bodies. Suddenly, James reached down and wrapped his arms around all three of them and held his misfit family close and whispered, "We'd better get you back to bed before Madam Pomphrey finds out you've left it."

Harry nodded and attempted to stand up, meeting only resistance as his uncles joined in the hug. "Guys," Harry wheezed, "Guys—I can't…breathe!"

"Oops!" James said sheepishly as he loosened his grip, "Sorry."

"Yeah, Prongs, he just survived poisoning. Don't kill him by strangulation now." Sirius jibed.

James rolled his eyes as he ushered Harry back to his unoccupied bed.

Harry climbed into the bed and made himself comfortable while sitting up. He looked around at his parents and then looked away before asking, "So. What happened? I don't remember much."

Sirius folded his arms, "You were an idiot, I told you that's what happened."

Remus rolled his eyes, "You really don't remember? You're the one who told us what happened."

Harry shook his head and suddenly realized it had been pounding, "It's all a blur." He rubbed his forehead and nose as he spoke.

James sat up and leaned forward, "Are you ok? What's wrong?"

"Just a head ache," Harry said as he rubbed his eyes, "I'm fine. It's not a big deal."

"You should be resting," Remus interjected.

"I am resting. Look, I'm laying down and everything."

James and Remus rolled their eyes while Sirius grinned. "By resting," Remus continued, "I meant sleeping. Considering you're speaking to us right now, I assume that you're awake."

"I'm not going to sleep until I know what happened and that everyone is ok."

"Everyone is fine," James assured Harry, "Draco, Ron, and Hermione are safe and I would put a few galleons down that they're still camping outside the hospital wing door like they have been the last few days. Madam Pomfrey hasn't allowed you any visitors outside family—"

"And it was quite the fight to get her to allow Remus and I in the ward. I thought I was going to have to petrify her before she was going to let us in!" Sirius clutched at his chest and wiped an imaginary tear, "I mean, we're honorary family, aren't we?"

"Anyway," James continued, "Everyone is fine. Well, everyone except you. Madam Pomfrey set Ron right and Draco was never injured."

"I knew Snape wouldn't hurt Draco," Harry said spitefully, "I knew it."

"What does Snivellus have to do with this?" Sirius asked curiously, "I thought Quirrell was the problem?"

Harry frowned, "Quirrell? No—it was Snape trying to get to the stone. I—I saw him bullying Quirrell."

James shook his head, "No. Draco found Quirrell in the next room with the Mirror of Erised. He—" James paused, weighing the options before him, "H—Quirrell had Voldemort in the back of his head."

It wouldn't be until sometime in the future, when Harry was able to look back on this moment with a clear and unburdened head, long after Voldemort's demise, that he was able to fully appreciate the situation that was unfolding before him. That he was able to understand how this honesty and openness set the tone for the next decade of his life. In that moment, however, all he could comprehend was the absolute and deafening silence that surrounded him, compressed him, made him feel so small.

"Draco went up against Voldemort?" Harry whispered.

"He did," Remus stated solemnly, "But Dumbledore showed up in time to keep him from being injured. He got lucky. You all got lucky."

"And your luck has officially run out," James said, his eyes flashing dangerously as Harry gulped, "You're grounded. For an entire month. No TV, no quidditch, no friends, nothing, for a whole month."

Harry's mouth dropped open, "But—no quidditch?! Dad, be reasonable. I have to practice over the summer if I want to stay on the team!"

James faltered and ran his hand on the back of his neck, "I mean other than a two hour practice every other day. But no flying. You can practice on the ground."

"How am I supposed to practice if I can't fly? Will I run after the balls?"

"Yes. You'll run after those little white muggle balls. For a whole month," James said seriously.

"And no friends? Draco can't go back to Malfoy Manor. You can't make him. How's that going to work?"

Sirius turned to James, "Draco absolutely is not going back to that place."

"We can't force Lucy to let Draco stay with us for the summer. If Lucy wants Draco home, Draco will have to go home. If Draco shows up at our house we will gladly take him in. But Harry won't be allowed to participate in any fun activities with Draco. And no Ron or Hermione."

"No Ron or Hermione?! You're just cruel."

"Maybe you should have thought twice before you snuck out of the house, went miles below the school, broke a dozen or more school rules, and then drank poison. I mean, seriously, you're lucky we aren't locking you in your room for the entire summer holiday!"

Harry grumbled but accepted his punishment with as much grace as an eleven year old child can as he folded his arms across his chest and laid back on the bed to stare at the ceiling.

~ID~

The last few days of term flew by while Harry was held up in the Hospital Wing. Madam Pomfrey refused to let him leave her clutches until just before the end of term feast which she, reluctantly, allowed him to attend after Dumbledore insisted upon it.

The end of term feast went as one would expect with all the food and pudding one could eat. Harry got to see his friends and catch up on what happened while he was out of it and make sure everyone was ok. Of course, Gryffindor received an exciting surprise just before the feast ended as Dumbledore awarded the house enough points to secure the House Cup. Cheers erupted around Harry and company as they were now welcomed back into the good graces of Gryffindor house.

With the threats gone from Hogwarts, for now, James allowed Harry to stay at the castle after the feast and take the train home with his friends before beginning his extended grounding. While waiting for Harry to come home, there was much back and forth between James, Sirius, Remus, and Dumbledor as to whether they needed to tell Harry about the prophecy and the Horcrux. By the time Harry stepped off of the scarlet steam engine, the debate had been tied with James and Remus having failed to make a decision and with Sirius and Dumbledor at odds.

James could see the wisdom from Sirius in telling Harry about his future. With Voldemort raising his bald, snakey head, it was clear that Harry would need to start deeper and more difficult training. The gods only knew how long they would have before Harry would have to come close to Voldemort again but, gods willing, it would be decades. But for some reason the thought continued nagging at the back of James' head that it wouldn't be long before moldie-morts' ugly head reared again.

On the other hand, James could see Dumbledor's point which, if he were honest with himself, became more tantalizing each day as he watched Harry grow and continue to learn. Each time he watched Harry play a new video game or pull a new prank he pushed the day he would have to tell Harry further and further away. Telling him would only start Harry on the difficult and dangerous path that inevitably lay before him.

James often sought advice from Remus who continued to remain silent on his viewpoint. Remus' position was that James had the ultimate authority on the subject and he would follow whatever James decided. Though that didn't stop Remus from working on magical defensive theory in the evenings which Harry took to like bird on the air.

In his lessons with Remus, Harry displayed an amazing aptitude for magical defense and had a surprising ability for recall. Harry was anxious to be able to try out some of the defensive spells he had learned during the summer and had already begun working on the wand movements and dodging skills that would come in useful during any duels. Adding these lessons into his daily activities and quidditch practices, Harry's summer quickly flew by and it was already the end of June when James finally allowed Harry to invite his friends over.

As July began rolling around, the Marauders and friends began planning Harry's upcoming birthday party. It would, of course, be quidditch themed complete with golden snitch decorations and a cake designed to look like an entire quidditch pitch. All of Harry's friends had been invited to stay the night to enjoy everything Potter Manor had to offer. And, with the party still being a week away, a somewhat surprising but anticipated floo came to the main fireplace of Potter Manor and a familiar, blonde haired boy came whizzing out in full force, coming face to face with a wide-eyed Remus.

"Draco! We didn't expect you for another week. Is there – what's wrong? Draco?" Remus dropped the book he had been carrying and hurried to Draco's side who's face was grey, his eyes wide and large.

"Is – is uncle Sirius here? I need to talk to him. I – it's my father."

"Yes, I think he's in the kitchen. Draco are you sure you're ok? You're not hurt?" Remus eyed Draco's clothes and body, looking for any signs of him being unwell or unsafe.

Draco shook his head, "No, I'm fine. Father – Father's been away most of this summer and grandfather hasn't visited. He's been unwell. It's just been mother and me and it's been quiet for the most part. But father came home last night and that's why I need to talk to uncle Sirius."

Remus nodded, "Would you like to talk to him alone or do you want me to come with you?"

Draco considered this and frowned, "I'm not sure. I'm not sure what to make of it; I just knew I needed to talk to someone. Dobby – he was going to come instead but I didn't think you would take kindly to a house elf appearing on your doorstep."

"Well," Remus smiled and gave a breathy laugh as they began making their way to the kitchen, "it certainly would have been a shock."

Draco pushed the door to the kitchen open and rushed inside to find Sirius and Harry violently mixing a bowl full of some sort of green batter. His brows furrowed as he looked at the concoction and sniffed the air. The overwhelming scent of peppermint and chocolate assaulted his nose which he crinkled. He'd never been a fan of peppermint – the smell, well, it brought back too many memories.

Without looking up, Sirius said, "Remus! Come help us. We're testing out a new cookie flavor for the holidays! It's a mint chocolate chip cookie but Harry here is insisting that it needs some sort of fruit. He's all for adding candied oranges but –" Sirius glanced up at that moment and caught sight of the ashened Draco standing in the doorway. "Harry," Sirius said without turning to him, "could you go find Prongs? He needs to come taste test these cookies."

Harry frowned when he saw Draco, "Draco is everything ok?"

"Go, Harry. When you come back you can talk to Draco, ok?" Remus chimed in.

Harry stared at Draco, waiting on some sign that he should stay. Draco merely shook his head, causing Harry to frown and look at his uncles before walking slowly from the room.

Once the door had firmly shut and Sirius was sure that Harry wasn't listening at the crack, Sirius motioned to the chair at the island for Draco who immediately slumped into the seat, his body sagging.

"What happened this time?" Sirius asked as he started placing some regular chocolate chip and some oatmeal raisin cookies onto a plate for Draco, "Your father or grandfather."

Draco shook his head, "It's not like that this time. Father has been quite subdued this summer. He's been…plotting only I didn't know about what until last night when I overheard him and mother talking."

Sirius poured Draco a glass of milk and motioned for him to go on. Draco sighed, "See, father – you know he was a death eater during the war? Well, I never knew how involved he had been with the dark – with Voldemort," Sirius and Remus both noted the hesitation, the change in name, as Draco continued, "He was apparently very close with him. So close that..Voldemort…had entrusted him with something. I'm wasn't sure what it was, my father didn't have it on him when he was talking to my mother and, obviously, I wasn't in the room but it's something small and something very important. Anyway, father told my mother that this thing would help bring him back – bring Voldemort back to power. I'm not sure how, and I'm not sure when it would happen but father was quite serious and very convinced. He plans to somehow sneak it into Hogwarts this year to cause some sort of havoc in the school. He wasn't clear on how he was going to do it or what the thing would do. The only thing that was clear was that mother didn't want me to have it."

"Draco," Remus said slowly, "what you're saying, accusing, really, is very serious. But you're speaking as if you somehow know what this object is now?"

Draco nodded and pulled from inside his cloak a small, black leather book and slid it onto the marble countertop, "I'm not sure why it's important. It's some sort of diary but there's no writing inside. On the back," he said as he flipped the book over, "is this." He used his finger to trace over the gold lettering that spelled 'T. M. Riddle'. "I don't know who T. M. Riddle is, but father was absolutely certain that this belonged to Voldemort. I wrote in it," Draco continued quietly, "I – I didn't know. I just thought…it looked like a blank diary, like I use. But it wrote back to me. Tom did, anyway. That's what he said his name is, Tom."

Remus fingered the small book and began turning it's blank pages, inspecting them closely, as Sirius asked, "What did you write?"

Draco shrugged, "I just wrote in what I would normally write in my journals. How my day was and that kind of stuff. And it kind of, absorbed it, and then it wrote back to me. It said, 'Hi Draco. My name is Tom Riddle. I'm glad that you've been having a good day. I never played quidditch myself but I always enjoyed flying. It's such a freeing feeling, isn't it?'"

"Did you write back?" Remus asked, curiously as he began tapping the diary with his wand and muttering incantations under his breath. Sirius watched as Draco shook his head. "Good. You should never trust something if you can't see where it keeps its brain."

Sirius smirked, "You sound like Arthur Weasley."

"Well, he's a smart man, Arthur. Draco, do you think I would be able to keep this book for a few days to run some tests on it? If this truly came from Voldemort, it may not be safe to have inside Hogwarts while students are back."

"My father won't be back until we go back to school shopping in Diagon Alley. Mother won't even notice it's gone. I'll have to have it back before then, though."

Remus nodded, "That's an easy enough fix. I can just…germinio. There." Remus handed Draco the new copy of the diary. The replication was perfect, all the way down to the small scuff on the binding and the tear in the back left corner.

At that moment, Harry came bursting back into the room with James on his heels. Harry was gibbering away about some new wax for broom handles while James did his best not to look too worried about the situation. Harry immediately went over to Draco and threw his arms around the other boy's shoulders, "Dad says we can go out and fly our brooms. Your mom said you can stay until after dinner if you'd like!"

"You flooed mother?" Draco asked, worriedly.

James nodded, "Yes. I asked if you could come see Harry for a while and told her I would have our house elf bring you over. She needed to know where you were in case she went looking and this way she doesn't know you slipped out. Is everything ok?"

As Draco began speaking, Remus tapped his fingers on the small, black book on the counter, "Yes. I just needed to give something to uncle Sirius," he smiled, "But now I can go best Potter at some quidditch!"

James, Sirius, and Remus watched as the two boys ran out of the room, whooping, racing each other to the pitch, before James turned and looked at his two best friends and frowned. "What is it?"

"Draco says it's a diary that writes back to the owner. He claims that Voldemort gave this book to Lucius and I'm inclined to believe that based on the embossment," Remus indicated the gold lettering on the back of the book, "Very few people knew of Voldemort's middle name, let alone that it started with an M. Even his award at Hogwarts failed to include that part of his name. I believe only Voldemort's inner circle would have been trusted with even the first letter. But the question remains: what is this book and why was it so important that Voldemort entrusted it to Lucius Malfoy before he went to Godric's Hollow?"

"It writes back?" James asked, plucking the book out of Remus' hands and inspecting it, "How? Is it standard responses or individualized? As if someone is speaking to you?"

"Based on Draco's interactions, it seems it's individualized. He wrote in it about his day and about quidditch and it responded about quidditch. We would have to test it but it definitely involves dark magic."

Sirius put his mixing bowl down on the countertop, causing a clang as he folded his arms over his chest, "Well, I vote we just ask the damn thing what it is and wants. If it's smart enough to respond to Draco about quidditch it's smart enough to give us some answers."

"Are you sure that's wise? There are spells we can use to ascertain that informat-" Sirius took the book out of Remus's hands and produced a quill from his pocket. Quickly dipping it into ink, he began writing inside the diary, "Sirius I'm not sure if that's advisable!"

"What are you and what do you want?" Sirius said slowly as he wrote the sentence in the book.

James covered his eyes with his hand and let out an exasperated sigh, "Sirius I'm being-"

"It's writing back."

I am Tom Marvolo Riddle, the owner of this diary. Who are you?

I am Sirius. What are you?

"Sirius I really don't think-"

"Well, it's a good thing I didn't ask you what you thought, isn't it?"

"You reckless-"

I am nothing more than a memory of a student who went to Hogwarts. Did you go to Hogwarts?

Sirius read aloud for the group at large, "A memory?" he looked up, concern filling his eyes, "Like a pensive?"

Remus furrowed his brows, "I've never heard of a book being used like that. It's certainly an interesting concept, and not impossible, but how could this cause havoc at Hogwarts? The memories of Voldemort could certainly instill his mindset and beliefs into children, but they won't go around murdering people because of that."

"I don't know, Remus, haven't you heard of that muggle in America? What's his name? Manus? Mason? No – Manson. We don't want more Mansons running around, do we?"

"Well, there's an easy way to test whether or not this is similar to a pensive," Remus muttered as he waved his wand over the book in an intricate circular motion. When the book simply sat on the counter, unchanged, Remus frowned, "It's not a pensive. Hmm. I suppose it could be-" he tapped his wand rhythmically on the book, "No. It's not that either. It must involve dark magic. Let me just," and it continued this way as Remus tried spell after spell to detect what this book was. He was able to uncover that it involved dark magic and a blood ritual but that it did not involve imbedded memories, imbibed spells, or any potions. After an hour of spell work, Remus slumped into a kitchen chair and happily accepted the beer Sirius held out to him, "I'm at a true loss. I have no idea what this could be. It's certainly a blood ritual, dark magic you know, but it doesn't actually involve real memories. There's no runes or detection of ancient magic. It's complex magic but I've tested for every type of dark spell that involves blood magic that I can think of except a horcrux and I can't imagine that he's split his soul into three pieces. He'd have to be absolutely insane to do that."

All three men sat bolt upright in their seats. Remus stood up so fast that his chair clattered to the floor, eyeing the small book sitting between the three of them. "He couldn't have." James said.

"He wouldn't have," Sirius said, disgusted.

Remus slowly poked the book with his wand, half expecting it to take a bite off of the wood, concern wracking his face. He eyed James and Sirius as he frowned, "It can't be possible. How could someone rip their soul not once but two times? He would be less than human."

"Well, this is Voldemort we're talking about, isn't it?" Sirius supplied as he eyed the diary warily. "There is a good way to test this. We could, well, burn the damn thing like last time."

"That wasn't exactly safe, we lost complete control and almost died last time," James said as he waived his mutilated hand in Sirius' face which was immediately slapped away, "Not all of us made it through unscathed!"

"Oh come off it, prat. You lost those fingers picking up the ring, not from Fiendfyre."

James rolled his eyes, "Do we have any other options?"

"There's basilisk venom; not sure where you find that though. Otherwise, unless it's a living being, there really isn't another way. To destroy a horcrux you need to-"

"Damage it beyond repair," Sirius and James said together in a mocking tone.

Sirius ran his long fingers through his hair, "We could just," he mimed jabbing the book with a wand and made an explosion sound, "avada kadavera it. You know, kill it? would that work?"

Remus rolled his eyes, "Again, unless it's a living being, you can't just use the killing curse."

"Ok," Sirius snatched the book again and poised his quill over the blank page, "let's ask it then. 'Are you a horcrux?'"

"Like that's going –" Remus started, rolling his eyes.

"Shh! It's writing back," Sirius said.

I'm sorry, sir, but, what is a horcrux? I'm sure I've ever heard of that term.

"Well of course you'd say you've never heard of it."

What year is it in your time?

It's 1943. What year are you in? Time seems to stand still here.

"When did Voldemort go to Hogwarts?" Sirius asked.

"I believe he went between 1938 and 1945. He received a special award to the school for the school year of 1943-44 but staff has always been hushed about the reason behind that. What I've uncovered from McGonagle is that it had something to do with the chamber of secrets but it's never been confirmed."

Sirius thought for a moment before placing his quill on the paper again. Have you ever heard of the chamber of secrets?

Yes, I have.

Ok. What can you tell me about it?

I can't tell you about it. But I can show you.

"It can show us?" James asked as he read over Sirius' shoulder, "What does that mean?"

James had barely finished his sentence when, suddenly, they were sucked into the journal and transported to what seemed like another time. They appeared, ghost-like, in front of a handsome, black haired man in Slytherin robes in Hogwarts castle. The three men looked at one another as they watched the teen observe a body leaving Hogwarts. they listened as the man talked with a younger Dumbledor about the girl's death and it's connection with the chamber of secrets. Dumbledor told the man that the school would have to close if the culprit was not caught.

Suddenly, the scene changed as they watched the boy storm towards a closet and a large, dark animal scurry out of it. A young, Rubeus Hagrid was cornered by the handsome man and accused of killing a young girl in the bathroom. They watched helplessly as the boy took Hagrid at wandpoint, all awhile Hagrid was shouting at the boy not to hurt the animal when they were spewed from the pages of the book.

"What on earth," James said in shock.

"I thought you said there was no memory involvement, Moony. What the hell was that?"

"I-I don't know. I've never read anything happening like this with an object that isn't a pensive."

"Is it possible for a horcrux to do something like that?" James asked.

Remus thought for a moment, rubbing in hand along his jawline, "From what I've read, a horcrux will do everything in its power to become closer with the person who has possession of it. It will learn about the person, delve into their deepest desires in the hopes that the piece of soul trapped inside can begin to flit in and out of the person. The goal is to, eventually, take complete control of the individual in order to live as if it's a second copy of the original version. But, this-this book, if it's involving the death of Myrtle Warren, then this would have to be Voldemort in or around 1943 which would have been around his sixth year at Hogwarts. Jesus he would have been about 16 and he would have had to make whatever this is at that age. I absolutely cannot fathom that he would have not only had the capabilities but the absolute lack of consciousness at that age to create a horcrux. To murder anyone at that age is just…unimaginable. Should we take this to Dumbledor?"

"Hell no!" James said sharply, "Look, I like Dumbledor but I don't trust the man. No, I'm not sorry but I don't," James said as Remus tried to interject, "He placed my son in danger by making this absolutely convoluted 'protection' for a special stone that would have been safe literally anywhere else in the world but, for some reason, he decided it would be a good idea to literally draw in the one person who wants to kill my son more than anyone else in the world. I just can't trust him. I say we keep it here until we can figure out what to do with it. It obviously can't go back to Lucy's house and it definitely can't go to Hogwarts."

"I say we play it safe and burn the damn thing with Fiendfyre," Sirius interjected.

"And that would prove, what, that it was able to be burnt with fire?" Remus asked sarcastically, "I have a guy that I might be able to get some basilisk poison from. It'll be expensive, but it would tell us definitively if this is a horcrux based on its reaction. And, if it is, we may need to change our tactic with this whole horcrux situation. If we find out there were two, who's to say there aren't more?"

"More than two?" James choked, "How many could this guy have made?"

"Look, let's not overthink this until we've really tested this thing. I'll do some more research. Maybe there's another spell or charm I can use."

"Wait!" Sirius shouted, "Wait! The poisons! The – the one with the brain. I haven't looked into the Lestrange vault yet. I got rid of all the ones in the Black vaults but maybe Bellatrix kept some? I wouldn't put it past her and Rodolphus."

James clapped Sirius on the back, "Great thinking Padfoot!"

Sirius jumped up and grabbed his wand, "I'll go look right now. Then we'll know for certain."

With that, Sirius bounded out of the room and headed straight to Gringotts. After verifying his identity and his entitlement to the vault, he was taken down to the Lestrange family vault by a goblin by the name of Rangrod who used the clankers to keep the dragon at bay. Upon entering, Sirius sifted through the gold, goblets, and furs in order to get at the potion bottles to inspect each one. As he looked, he found several that he cataloged in his mind that would be useful in the future. There were potions of invisibility, of flying, of immense healing that hadn't been seen since the times of Merlin. There were also potions that caused extremely painful, linger deaths as well as potions that would melt bones inside of the body, leaving the person alive but unable to move or regrow the insides. Finally, after an hour of digging, he found the dark blue potion he was seeking upon a high shelf next to a golden teacup. Sirius carefully picked up the jewel topped bottle and opened it, carefully sniffing the liquid inside. The sickeningly sweet and spicy smell solidified his belief that this was the poison he had been searching for.

Sirius carefully wrapped the potion bottle in a towel and placed it into his coat pocket. As he started walking out of the vault, he stopped and pulled the bottle out of his pocket and cast a protection and anti-shattering charm on the bottle.

~ ID ~

Back at Potter Manor James and Remus anxiously awaited Sirius' return as they eyed the diary warily each time one of them paced past it. Each of them in turn tried to occupy themselves with other things; Remus tried to work on his translations while James worked on new quidditch patterns but they inevitably gave it up to sit and wait. Finally, Sirius barged into the kitchen holding a dark blue bottle aloft triumphantly. Then, James and Remus watched in horror as Sirius immediately dumped a quarter of the contents onto the inside pages of the diary and watched it go up in smoke.