CHAPTER 54: FRAGMENTS OF THE DARKEST SOUL

As they discussed their strategy and planned their next steps, Harry felt a renewed sense of determination. The battle ahead would be long and perilous, but with the guidance of Dumbledore, the wisdom of Sirius, and the support of Jean-Sebastian, he knew they stood a chance against the dark forces that threatened their world.

Dumbledore's explanation sent a chill down Harry's spine, the grim reality of horcruxes sinking in deeper with each word. He listened intently, his mind grappling with the horrifying details.

"So, to create a horcrux, someone has to commit murder and then perform this ritual to split their soul," Harry summarized, trying to wrap his head around the sheer malevolence of it all.

Dumbledore nodded gravely. "Exactly, Harry. It is an act so dark and twisted that it irreversibly damages the soul. This is why horcruxes are considered the darkest of dark magic—because the process corrupts the very essence of the caster."

Harry frowned deeply. "And once a horcrux is made, it's nearly impossible to destroy?"

"Indeed," Dumbledore confirmed. "Normal spells and curses won't affect it. Basilisk venom, as you discovered, is one of the few substances that can destroy a horcrux. There may be other rare magical means, but they are not well-documented."

"What about the others? The ones Voldemort might have made?" Harry asked, his thoughts racing ahead to the task at hand.

"We must assume that they are protected by similar dark magic," Dumbledore replied. "Each horcrux will likely be hidden in a place of significance to Voldemort, and protected by powerful enchantments. Finding and destroying them will require great skill and courage."

Sirius spoke up, his voice serious. "And we must be prepared for the fact that destroying each one will take a toll on us. The dark magic surrounding these objects is dangerous."

Jean-Sebastian nodded in agreement. "It will be a battle of persistence and resilience. But Harry, with our combined knowledge and determination, we can succeed."

Harry took a deep breath, steeling himself for the daunting task ahead. "Alright. We need to find out where Voldemort hid them, and then figure out how to destroy each one. No matter how difficult it gets."

Dumbledore placed a reassuring hand on Harry's shoulder. "We will do it together, Harry. You are not alone in this."

As they continued to discuss their strategy and the details of Voldemort's horcruxes, Harry felt a surge of determination. Despite the darkness of their task, he knew that with the support of Dumbledore, Sirius, and Jean-Sebastian, they had a chance to rid the world of Voldemort's twisted legacy once and for all.

Dumbledore's calm demeanor did little to ease Harry's unease as he processed the weight of their conversation. The Sword of Gryffindor, now imbued with basilisk venom, offered a sliver of hope amidst the grim reality of hunting down Voldemort's horcruxes.

"Fiendfyre and the Sword of Gryffindor," Harry repeated, committing these critical details to memory. He knew their success hinged on these precious few methods to destroy the horcruxes.

"And the horcruxes themselves?" Harry pressed, trying to focus on the task at hand despite his rising anxiety. "Do you have any leads?"

Dumbledore's expression turned thoughtful. "Yes, Harry. Over the years, I've gathered information and followed trails that may lead us to them. Voldemort was drawn to objects of great significance or power. I suspect he may have hidden pieces of his soul in such objects—perhaps relics of the founders of Hogwarts, or other items tied to his past."

Harry nodded slowly, absorbing the information. "So, it could be anything—something personal to him, something significant in history…"

"Exactly," Dumbledore affirmed. "But rest assured, Harry, I will continue my research diligently. The key is to remain patient and thorough. We cannot rush into this recklessly."

Sirius interjected, his voice firm with determination. "And we will help in any way we can, Harry. Together, we'll find these horcruxes and destroy them, piece by piece."

Jean-Sebastian nodded in agreement. "Patience and persistence will be our allies in this quest. We will uncover the truth behind each horcrux and ensure they are no longer a threat."

Harry felt a surge of determination amidst the lingering dread. "Alright," he said resolutely. "Let's focus on finding out all we can about these horcruxes. The sooner we know, the sooner we can act."

Dumbledore smiled warmly. "Indeed, Harry. We'll gather our information and plan our next steps carefully. And remember, you are not alone in this."

As they continued to discuss their strategy and the challenges ahead, Harry felt a renewed sense of purpose. Together with Dumbledore, Sirius, and Jean-Sebastian, they would confront Voldemort's darkest legacy and bring an end to the terror he had inflicted upon the world.

Dumbledore hesitated, his eyes flickering with reluctance, as though the words he was about to speak weighed heavily upon him. Glancing at the stern faces of the other two men in the room, Harry sensed the gravity of the impending revelation. Whatever Dumbledore was about to disclose, it was the crux of their discussion that day. Harry braced himself, a knot of apprehension tightening in his stomach, anticipating the worst.

"In fact, Harry," Dumbledore began solemnly, his voice betraying a hint of regret, "I am compelled to inform you that I believe I now know the location and nature of another Horcrux." The ancient wizard paused, the weight of his years etched on his weathered face. When he looked up and met Harry's gaze, his expression was resolute. "It is you, Harry," he said softly. "I believe that you are one of Voldemort's Horcruxes."

"I am a Horcrux?" Harry echoed, disbelief and repulsion contorting his features.

"Yes. More precisely, I believe your scar is a Horcrux."

Harry stared at Dumbledore, his mind reeling. "But—but… Are you serious?" His voice trembled with disbelief.

"Unfortunately, yes," Dumbledore replied gravely. "I would not burden you with such a revelation unless I was certain of its veracity."

"Then there might be a chance you're wrong?" Harry grasped desperately at hope. "You're not absolutely certain?"

"I am not infallible, Harry," Dumbledore admitted with a sigh. "There is a possibility of error, though I fear it is remote."

Unable to sit still, Harry rose from his chair and began to pace the room, his mind racing with a surge of nervous energy unleashed by Dumbledore's revelation. It couldn't be true. It simply couldn't. How could such a horrific thing reside within him? How could this have happened?

"I take it this is not a conclusion you have suddenly come to?" Harry said, his pacing coming to an abrupt halt as anger surged through him.

"It is not," Dumbledore confirmed calmly, meeting Harry's gaze with unwavering composure.

"Harry," Jean-Sebastian interjected, his voice soft yet burdened, "I have known for some months now. I regret not fulfilling my promise to divulge everything to you. I apologize most sincerely."

"In the end, the decision was mine," Dumbledore interposed firmly, his presence commanding the room, a reminder of why he was revered as one of the greatest wizards in the world.

"Why?" Harry demanded, his voice tinged with betrayal. "Why would you all keep such a thing from me? If it's even true."

"Is it not a burden, Harry?" Dumbledore's voice, though gentle, carried the weight of decades of wisdom.

Harry halted, the impact of Dumbledore's words striking him like a physical blow. "A burden like none I've ever imagined," he admitted quietly.

"That is precisely why you were not told," Dumbledore explained. "You do not burden an eleven-year-old child with the knowledge that he carries a fragment of a maniac's soul. It is a weight too heavy for someone so young to bear. Moreover, while I always suspected Voldemort had not truly been vanquished, it was only after you destroyed the diary that my suspicions began to crystallize. It has taken years of study since that event to arrive at this conclusion, and it is not one I arrived at lightly, I assure you."

"But how can you be certain?" Harry pressed, his brow furrowing in frustration.

Dumbledore sighed wearily and gestured towards Harry's chair. "Please, sit, Harry, and I will explain." Reluctantly, Harry returned to his seat, his mind racing with unanswered questions. The ancient wizard continued, his voice measured yet tinged with sadness. "I cannot claim absolute certainty, as there is no spell that can definitively detect a Horcrux. However, basic magical scans have revealed an aura surrounding your scar that raises significant suspicions."

"Why would Voldemort want to make me into a Horcrux?" Harry asked, his voice laced with bewildered disbelief.

"I do not believe it was his intention," Dumbledore replied gravely. "Rather, Voldemort intended to create a Horcrux from your death. However, something extraordinary occurred—something that defied his expectations—and you survived his killing curse."

Harry frowned deeply. "I've always wondered about that," he admitted. "If there were no witnesses, how do we know I survived a killing curse?"

"We don't have direct proof," Dumbledore explained patiently. "We infer from a series of circumstances that strongly suggest it. Voldemort's modus operandi is unmistakable; he uses the killing curse exclusively, almost as a symbolic gesture of his superiority over the laws that govern the magical world. It is inconceivable that he would attempt to kill you by any other means."

Harry nodded slowly, absorbing the weight of Dumbledore's words. "So, because I survived, a piece of his soul latched onto me?"

"Exactly," Dumbledore affirmed, his gaze steady on Harry. "Your survival marked a profound and unintended magical phenomenon. A fragment of Voldemort's soul, torn and unstable, attached itself to the only living thing in the vicinity—yourself."

Harry leaned back in his chair, stunned by the revelation. "And this… Horcrux inside me, it's making me—"

"It does not define you, Harry," Dumbledore interrupted gently but firmly. "It is a burden you bear, but it does not define who you are. You have the power to overcome it."

"Then, we have the fact that your scar is an anomaly. You obviously did not receive it from a cutting curse or any other known spell, dark or otherwise. It shows none of the traces of any conventional magic. In my opinion, Voldemort attempted to kill you with the killing curse, but your mother's sacrifice protected you. She used that ultimate act of love as a shield, though the exact nature of the protective enchantment remains a mystery. Your mother was extraordinarily resourceful—she may have discovered ancient magic or devised her own means of safeguarding you."

Harry listened intently, his mind grappling with the enormity of Dumbledore's words.

"In addition," Dumbledore continued, his voice steady yet filled with empathy, "it is evident that Voldemort had prepared the ritual and vessel for the Horcrux, intending to complete the spell after your murder—a symbolic act of triumph over what he perceived as his future greatest enemy. However, your mother's protection caused his curse to backfire, leaving him without a body. By that point, the deaths of your parents had already fractured his soul, and the fragment sought refuge in the nearest magical source—you."

"And what else convinces you that I am a Horcrux?" Harry asked quietly, his voice betraying a mix of resignation and disbelief.

"Many factors," Dumbledore replied solemnly. "The aura I mentioned earlier, the pain your scar has caused in Voldemort's presence, and the inexplicable connection you share with him. All of these pieces together form a compelling argument. I am sorry, Harry. I would be relieved to be proven wrong, but the evidence points strongly in this direction."

Harry sat back heavily in his chair, the weight of Dumbledore's revelations settling over him. It made a twisted sort of sense, though he wished desperately it didn't. Weariness crept into his bones, and despite his efforts to push away the implications of what he had just learned, one harsh truth emerged.

"I have to die, don't I?" Harry blurted out, immediately wincing at his own words. It wasn't like him to dwell on hardships; Gryffindors were meant to charge forward, after all. Yet, in that moment, he felt utterly drained.

"Sorry, sir," Harry apologized quickly, his voice tinged with a mixture of frustration and resignation. "It does no good to dwell on it."

Dumbledore regarded him with a mixture of sympathy and admiration. "Harry, my boy, the future is not set in stone. Prophecies and destinies are not absolutes. You have faced Voldemort before and survived against all odds. There may yet be a way to vanquish him without sacrificing yourself."

Hope flickered faintly in Harry's heart at Dumbledore's words, a small ember amidst the darkness that threatened to overwhelm him. He nodded slowly, absorbing Dumbledore's reassurance.

"But we must be prepared for every eventuality," Dumbledore continued gently. "We will explore all possibilities, Harry, and together, we will find a way."

Harry nodded again, his resolve firming. "Together," he echoed, finding solace in the Headmaster's unwavering belief.

"Don't be so hard on yourself," Sirius said softly, moving closer to Harry's chair and placing a comforting hand on his shoulder. "This is a lot to take in, Harry. It's okay to feel devastated by all of this."

Harry nodded slightly, appreciating Sirius's support amidst the overwhelming revelations.

"In answer to your question, Harry," Dumbledore interjected gently, drawing Harry's attention back to him, "I do not yet know how to remove it. Yet!"

Harry's head snapped up, his eyes locking onto Dumbledore's with renewed hope. "What do you mean?"

"As I've explained before," Dumbledore began, his tone thoughtful, "every magical spell has a counter, even if it hasn't been discovered yet. I have been studying Horcruxes extensively for months now, ever since you destroyed the diary and my suspicions about the Horcrux in your scar began to form."

"There may be other avenues to explore as well," Dumbledore continued, his expression contemplative. "The Horcrux spell has roots in ancient Egyptian magic. While references are scarce here, where they've been rightly destroyed for centuries, we may find more fruitful leads in ancient texts from Egypt. It's something I will need to consider."

"So, there's a chance we can get rid of it?" Harry asked eagerly, a glimmer of hope brightening his eyes.

"There is always a way to counter a spell," Dumbledore affirmed firmly. "We just need to uncover what that method is. Once we do, we can take the necessary steps. Do not lose hope, Harry. We will find a solution."

Harry nodded, a sense of weariness settling over him. He glanced around the room, realizing that the day had slipped away while they were engrossed in their discussion. Exhaustion weighed heavily on both his body and mind. All he wanted now was to retreat to his room, to process everything he had learned today and perhaps find some semblance of peace amidst the turmoil.

"I think I need some time," Harry admitted quietly, looking at Dumbledore with a mix of gratitude and uncertainty. "To think and to… try to come to terms with all of this."

"Of course, Harry," Dumbledore replied gently. "Take all the time you need. We are here for you."

With a nod of thanks, Harry rose from his chair, bidding goodnight to Sirius and Dumbledore before making his way out of the room. As he walked down the familiar corridors of Hogwarts, he knew that the road ahead was fraught with challenges. Yet, for the first time since learning the truth about his scar, he dared to believe that there might be a way forward—a way to confront Voldemort without sacrificing himself.

"Is that all, Professor?" Harry asked, his voice steadier now. "If so, I think I should spend some time thinking about all of this."

"I believe we have covered the most weighty revelations for today, Harry," Dumbledore confirmed gently. "But there is one more important matter we must discuss."

"Your connection with Voldemort is a significant concern, Harry," Jean-Sebastian interjected solemnly. "Fortunately, it appears that he is unaware of its existence at this time. However, we must assume that he will eventually discover it. You must learn to close it off."

"How can I do that?" Harry asked, his mind already racing with the possibilities.

"There is a branch of magic called Occlumency," Jean-Sebastian explained, "which involves shielding one's mind from external intrusion. It has the added benefit of providing mental discipline and clarity. With your permission, I will ask Fleur Delacour to instruct you in Occlumency. She has been practicing it for some time and can guide you effectively."

Harry considered this, thinking of the relief it would bring to prevent Voldemort from intruding into his thoughts and dreams. "Does it take a long time to master?" he inquired.

"To fully master Occlumency, yes," Dumbledore replied thoughtfully. "However, with diligence, you can achieve a certain proficiency within a few weeks. This should be enough to resist remote attacks. On the other hand, Legilimency is the counterpart to Occlumency, allowing one to penetrate the minds of others. Voldemort is exceptionally skilled in Legilimency. If he were in close proximity, he could easily breach your defenses unless you have had extensive training over many years. Since we do not anticipate him being near you anytime soon, attaining a basic proficiency in Occlumency will suffice to shield yourself when he is not nearby."

Harry nodded, determined to learn this new magic. "I'll do it," he said firmly, a sense of purpose settling over him. "I want to learn Occlumency."

"Very well, Harry," Dumbledore acknowledged with a nod. "I will arrange for your lessons to begin as soon as possible. In the meantime, take some time to rest and gather your thoughts. If you need anything, do not hesitate to ask."

"Thank you, Professor," Harry replied gratefully. With that, he bid farewell to Dumbledore and Jean-Sebastian, feeling a glimmer of hope that he could indeed face the challenges ahead.

"Very well, sir," Harry acknowledged with a tight nod. "But I want something from you too."

Dumbledore immediately acquiesced, though a glint of curiosity shone in his eyes. "What is it, Harry?"

"I want you to teach me everything you know," Harry said earnestly. "This whole thing boils down to him and me, and he's already got years of experience on me. I don't have much of a chance as it is, but I'd like to learn whatever I can in the time I have."

"That's the spirit, Harry!" Sirius exclaimed proudly, giving him a hearty slap on the back.

Dumbledore nodded thoughtfully. "I agree. Knowledge is a powerful weapon. However, I would caution you not to lose all hope. Yes, Voldemort has many years of experience to draw upon, but remember 'the power he knows not'. Your capacity to love others, your ability to inspire, and the love and support you receive in return—these are strengths that Voldemort cannot comprehend. They may ultimately tilt the balance in your favor. Keep a positive outlook, Harry."

"I will, sir," Harry replied with determination. Sensing that the interview was concluded, he excused himself from the room, needing time alone to process everything he had learned. It was a lot to come to terms with.

Meanwhile, in another part of the house, Hermione sat with Fleur and Susan, her mind torn between the pages of her book and worry for her closest friend. A sixth sense had told her that the Headmaster's visit that day heralded a significant event, and knowing Harry as she did, she was certain he was at the heart of it.

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