Horcruxes

*** Hogwarts, Later

All things considered, Hogwarts had quite a good start to the semester, as it managed to fall into the usual monotony of term, despite the war.

The staff worked hard to make sure that the general mood of gloom didn't penetrate the thick walls of Hogwarts, and that the patients from warzones occasionally brought to the infirmary of the school of witchcraft and wizardry were kept hidden from the students.

While McGonagall was still running the school entirely, Harry had noticed that Albus Dumbledore had been spending an increasingly large amount of time in the school, leaving the spearheading of the war effort to his younger colleague Babajide.

As September turned to October, Harry had a feeling something would happen.

And something did.

An older student tapped Harry on the shoulder, as he stood and discussed the latest information on the war with his two closest friends.

"Yes?" Harry looked over his shoulder, mildly annoyed at the intrusion, even if the boy intruding upon him was three years his senior.

"Dumbledore wanted me to pass this letter on to you, Potter," the older student said, handing a roll of parchment which was secured with a ribbon to Harry, "Good luck trying to get the thing open," he murmured as he walked off.

Harry looked down at the letter, and noted with amusement that the ribbon had clearly been pulled at by the messenger student, who was no-doubt curious as to what the Headmaster had to communicate to the young Potter.

Harry slipped open the knot with no problem, knowing that whichever security charm Dumbledore had employed had recognised his identity.

Dear Harry,

Please come see me in my office at 20h sharp. Do not be late. Do not bring anyone with you. Neither Hermione, nor Iliad's daughter. The password is maple syrup,

Yours faithfully,

Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore

As soon as he finished reading the letter, the edge of the letter began to disintegrate. Within seconds, the entire letter had disintegrated, as if it had never been there in the first place.

"Huh."

*** 8PM, The office of Albus Dumbledore

Harry sat opposite the Headmaster of Hogwarts.

"Hi," he said lamely. He hadn't spoken to Albus in quite a while, as the Headmaster was perennially busy, between the war effort and whatever it was that he had been doing in Hogwarts over the last few months.

"Hello Harry."

The Headmaster looked old. Not that he didn't usually, but there was such a youth about his very being that anybody that looked at the legendary wizard saw beyond the wrinkles, and the flowing white hair.

Now, however, the man looked his age. His eyes were not cold, but they lacked a certain twinkle for which they were famed. The bridge of his glasses was held together with spello-tape. Cuts, bruises, and scrapes covered most of the skin which he had bared, though his robes were immaculate. Then again, Harry doubted Dumbledore was wearing his designer dress robes into combat.

Harry looked pointedly at Dumbledore's glasses, the unasked question relating to a certain 'reparo' spell which would do the same job quite sufficiently.

"An alchemically conjured blade caused that damage to my glasses," Dumbledore explained, "So that breakage is now resistant to any and all magic. Spello-tape was the next quickest alternative. I shall have to remember to pick up my spare pair from back home."

"You have a home?" Harry asked, before he could stop himself.

A hint of twinkle returned to Albus' eyes, "You didn't think I lived at Hogwarts year-round, did you?"

"You certainly seem to be right now," Harry retorted.

"Touché," Dumbledore said, before his eyes darkened once more, "Actually, I have asked you to come here to talk about one of the things which I have been researching extensively over the last year."

Harry inclined his head, signalling Dumbledore to continue speaking.

"As you know," Dumbledore began, in a way which Harry knew to be the start of a speech by the man, the likes of which he was expounding upon a topic to one who was unfamiliar with it, "Voldemort created horcruxes to protect his immortality. While they continue to exist, the Dark Lord cannot die, and The Darkness is anchored to reality."

Harry nodded his understanding, "But you never were very specific with the horcruxes, and what they did."

Albus nodded, "I didn't want to go into the details of creating a horcrux," he started, "You were - are still - very young, and I feel guilty telling you of such magic, the darkest that exists in this realm. A horcrux is an object in which a Dark wizard or witch has hidden a fragment of his or her soul for the purpose of attaining immortality. Horcruxes can only be created after committing murder, the supreme act of evil. Voldemort's spirit from your first year confirmed that Voldemort created six horcruxes."

Harry nodded his understanding, he knew Voldemort had killed many, but it was still sickening to hear about it, and here how Voldemort had desecrated the lives of some of his victims to create horcruxes.

"Over the past year, I have been researching Voldemort himself, to try and figure out which exact objects contain pieces of his soul."

"If it were me," Harry opined, "I would stick the pieces of my soul in small stones and rocks and throw them to the bottoms of various oceans and rivers. Perhaps I'd leave one or two under close guard so that they could be used to revive this hypothetical twisted evil me back to life, but those would also be innocuous objects."

Dumbledore shook his head, "Lord Voldemort is not as smart as you," he said with a small smile, "You need to bring your thinking down to his level. He is an extremely powerful and awe-inspiring wizard, but he is not a very logical man. He has long since lost complete control of his sanity. With Tom Riddle, and his diary, you destroyed the most sane piece of the Dark Lord which remained in this world. What I have learned of his horcruxes is that he has placed each of them in an object of great personal significance to him, and stored them in places of similar personal significance."

Dumbledore rummaged around in a cupboard behind him, before dropping the diary on the desk. He rummaged again before pulling out a locket, and placing that on the desk as well.

"The diary," Dumbledore started, "His first diary as a teenager in Hogwarts, and left to one of his greatest followers, Lucius Malfoy," and then he turned to the locket, "This is one I came upon at a Black residence in muggle London. Specifically the one where your godfather, Sirius, grew up. It was last used as a base by Regulus Black, a follower of Voldemort, who I found was a traitor and stole this locket-horcrux from a cave where Voldemort had it hidden and brought it to his home to destroy. Unfortunately, he was killed by Voldemort shortly after, and the locket left with his batty house elf, who could not destroy it, hard as he tried." Dumbledore explained.

"A cave is a good hiding place," Harry opined again, "Nice and random, nobody would think of it."

"Actually," Dumbledore corrected him, "It was a place of significance in his upbringing."

Harry muttered something about stupid and idiotic dark lords under his breath.

"Well," Harry spoke, "Apart from briefing me on these horcruxes, why have you called me here."

Albus raised an eyebrow, "What makes you think that wasn't my only reason for calling you up here?" he asked interestedly.

Harry looked at the old man shrewdly, "Your body language," he said simply, "I know you have something big to say, something you are in two minds about."

Dumbledore sighed, "So I do."

"So," Harry prompted, "What is it, Professor?"

Dumbledore looked Harry in the eye before speaking.

"I think I may have located a third one of Voldemort's horcruxes."

*** End of Chapter