Severus rubbed his forehead and read through the note again. Specifically the note addressed to him, folded inside the one with Lucius’ name on it. And while the addressing might have been in Narcissa’s script, the actual note was in Lucius’ handwriting.

From the discoloration along the creases, it had been written several years ago—or the majority of it had, anyway—but…. Severus set the note down carefully and leaned back. He’d known that the Dark Lord had been dabbling with the idea of Horcrux creation during the first war—frankly, if there had been anyone involved who didn’t know that, he needed to have his head examined—but Severus hadn’t expected anything like what he was reading. Six Horcruxes. Horcruxi? He frowned and shook his head. What rational wizard ever needed to know the plural of Horcrux? Only a madman would create even one!

Oh. Yes. I suppose I should consider the source. He shook his head again. Regardless of the Dark Lord’s decidedly…questionable…mental state, the existence of so many of the damned things begged the question of exactly what was supposed to be done about them all. There wasn’t a lot of literature on them—for good reason—but what little he did know wasn’t good. Harry had destroyed that damn diary with a basilisk fang, but you couldn’t go about stabbing things at random without attracting rather unpleasant attention. He glanced down at the note again. Not to mention that attempting to stab a ring is just absurd. And all of this assumes that we can even find the items that were used. Six Horcruxes….

The note appeared to have been written during the time of the first war; at a guess, probably sometime around Draco’s birth. That would fit with Lucius’ nature. He had always taken his duty to protect his family very seriously, and the fact that the Dark Lord had even been contemplating creating the things would give any sensible wizard pause. Clearly not enough pause to actually get out of the creature’s service, but then again Lucius had always been one to play the odds, and at that point the war hadn’t been going all that well for the side of light.

From the wording of the note, although Lucius had identified a locket and Helga Hufflepuff’s cup, of all the ridiculous items that the Dark Lord could have chosen, and knew of the creature’s plans for more, he hadn’t actually known that the diary he had been given to hold was a Horcrux. Not that that fact will matter in the least to the Weasley horde, given that he’s the one who gave it to the girl, but….

After a few more minutes he turned his attention to the second note, the one that was addressed to Lucius. There wasn’t much to it…Narcissa and Draco were leaving the country for their own protection, they loved him, wished him well, et cetera. Nothing obvious to indicate where they were going, but then again Severus hadn’t expected Narcissa to come right out and list a forwarding address.

He refolded both letters and put them in his robes. Late or not, Albus was going to want to see these. Sleep. Yes, I remember sleep.

The door to Albus’ study swung open as he raised his hand to knock, and he stepped back expecting someone to emerge. Albus, by preference. Unfortunately, he found the headmaster seated at his desk, deep in discussion with Alastor and Minerva…presumably Alastor had seen him approach and alerted the others.

“Severus?” Albus asked, turning to look in his direction.

“In the…commotion…at the meeting,” he directed a brief glare at Alastor and noticed that it was echoed by Minerva “I forgot to pass along a message that Narcissa gave me. A note, rather.” He drew the thicker piece of parchment out of his pocket but carefully pushed the thinner back in. He would show them all Lucius’ information about the Horcruxes—it was entirely possible that Aurors were privy to more information about the things than the average wizard was—but he would prefer to discuss the note for Lucius with Albus privately. Knowing Alastor, he would probably destroy it outright, on the off chance that it’s a transfigured army sent to break Lucius out of Azkaban.

“Set it down,” Alastor ordered, gesturing at Albus’ desk with his wand.

Severus widened his eye theatrically. “But what if it explodes on contact with wood? It’s such a common assassination technique.”

Alastor’s wand shifted targets. “Boy, y—”

“Gentlemen, please,” Albus interrupted, gesturing at the desk. “It’s been a long day.”

That sentiment Severus agreed with wholeheartedly, and after a second glare at Alastor he set the note down. “I have already checked—and read—it myself, you realize.”

Alastor snorted and then subjected the bit of parchment to an absolutely ridiculous number of hex and curse detection spells. Several of which Severus made a mental note to look up when he had some free time. Which at this rate will be well after I retire. He accepted the chair Minerva transfigured with an absent nod of thanks, attention still on the Alastor.

Eventually even the paranoid lunatic was satisfied, and Severus sat back as Albus opened the note and he, Alastor, and Minerva read through it.

“Six!” Alastor exploded, drowning out whatever Minerva hissed.

Albus stayed rather suspiciously silent, and Severus raised an eyebrow in his direction. “I’d feared something of this sort,” he acknowledged after a moment. “Well, perhaps not six, but that there would be more than one. Horace and I were discussing the matter—theoretically, of course—before he left, and there were several murders that seemed to be potential candidates for Horcrux creation.” He was silent for a moment. “I suppose given the meaning behind seven, perhaps even six isn’t such a surprise. Although….”

“Athough what?” Severus asked cautiously, debating whether he really wanted to know and wondering whether he’d ever actually find out. Albus had an annoying tendency to give all of the information that he felt was necessary, and no more. In strategic terms, it was a wise thing to do—particularly with someone who regularly went into the enemy’s territory and could, conceivably, be forced to reveal information—but it was also incredibly annoying. Especially from someone who always had so many plots going that even he probably wasn’t aware of them all anymore. He sighed quietly. I suppose as much as I would greatly enjoy throwing this problem at someone else and pretending that I’d never heard the word ‘Horcrux,’ I should probably pay attention.

Albus stroked his beard. “Malfoy lists three suspected Horcruxes here, we also know of the diary and a ring.”

Severus frowned. He didn’t know of any ring, but neither Alastor nor Minerva seemed at all surprised by the revelation.

“I also have reason to suspect that young Harry is a Horcrux.”

“What?” both Alastor and Severus demanded, and Minerva’s eyes narrowed to slits.

“Is that even—no, never mind,” Severus cut himself off. According to the last line of Lucius’ note, the one written years after the rest of the message, Nagini had been made into a Horcrux shortly after the Dark Lord’s resurrection in response to the diary debacle, so obviously it was possible for a living being to be a Horcrux. But what that meant for Harry….

“You’re certain?” Minerva demanded.

“Certain, no, but it would explain his Parseltongue abilities, and the ease with which Voldemort can reach his mind. I’ve done some research on the subject, but I haven’t found anything conclusive.”

How odd; I’m certain that there are just hordes of people lining up to find out what happens when a madman embeds a soul fragment in them. Severus wanted very much to ask just when Albus had planned on sharing this information with the rest of them, but he knew perfectly well that he wouldn’t get any sort of useful answer.

Minerva probably knew that as well as he did, but that didn’t stop her from asking. “And it didn’t occur to you to mention this to the rest of us?”

Albus made an open handed gesture. “I had no way to be certain. And thus far I’ve seen nothing to indicate that Voldemort is aware of what he created when his killing curse rebounded. That may mean that there is a seventh Horcrux somewhere that has yet to be identified.”

“Well, that’s a pleasant thought, but could we please return to the subject of Harry,” Severus interjected before Albus could begin to theorize on other potential objects that the Dark Lord could have chosen. Albus’ theory made a sickening sort of sense, particularly when considering how easily the Dark Lord was able to reach the boy’s mind. “You were saying that you don’t think the Dark Lord is aware of what he did?”

“I don’t believe so, primarily because he has been so focused on killing Harry. I’m not sure that he would continue to expend so much effort if he knew the boy had a soul fragment in him.”

Severus snorted. That assumes that the creature thinks rationally. If he’s split his soul into seven—eight—pieces, I think we can all reasonably assume that that is not the case.

“And how long do you think that’ll stay true?” Alastor asked. “We all saw the boy possessed. We should do something to make sure that it doesn’t happen while—”

His fingers were twitching towards his wand, and Minerva’s glare shifted targets. “And what do you propose we do? You may have no issue with the idea of kidnapping or holding students, but those of us wh—”

“There’s no need to take drastic action just yet,” Albus interrupted halting the resumption of the argument that had begun at the Order meeting, albeit with a slightly different target this time. “I don’t know how long Voldemort will remain unaware of the true nature of the link between them, but I think Harry should be safe enough here at Hogwarts. The best course of action that I can see is to keep the two of them as far apart as possible and make sure that Harry continues with his Occlumency.”

“Constant vigilance,” Alastor snapped.

As though any of us have suggested otherwise. What does he think we’re planning to do, take out an advert in the Daily Prophet?

Albus shook his head. “But leaving the matter of Harry aside, for the moment, I think we should alert the other Order members to begin looking for the rest of these items now that we have actual descriptions of what to look for. The next time the Dark Lord is killed, I would prefer if that was the end of it.”

Severus snorted. It wasn’t as though anyone else wanted a bunch of Dark Lord soul fragments floating around the Wizarding world either. Although I very much wish Albus had better ideas for how to keep Harry—and his mind—in one piece. If there was little literature to be found on Horcruxes, there certainly wasn’t any on people-as-Horcruxes, and Severus began to mentally review his books on Occlumency. Maybe something there would be applicable.

“Severus, do you have any idea where any of these items might be hidden?”

Items…? Oh. Yes. He shook his head and returned his attention to the current conversation. “Unfortunately the Dark Lord wasn’t kind enough to provide me with an itemized list before attempting to murder me, but as he gave the diary to Lucius to hold, I would suggest starting with the estates of various other members of his inner circle. Obviously we can’t just march up to the Lestranges’ front door and insist upon a search of the premises, but you certainly have access to Grimmauld Place. Regulus was once a favorite of his, after all.” Until he’d made the most clumsy, half-arsed attempt to escape the Dark Lord’s clutches that Severus had ever seen, anyway. But then again, I suppose no one in the Black family has ever been cited for his ability to strategize. Or for having basic common sense, for that matter. He shook his head. “I’m not sure our odds of identifying one ring or locket amidst the piles of jewelry passed down through family lines are particularly favorable, but at least it’s a place to begin.” And perhaps there was some sort of magical signature that Albus knew of that could help identify a Horcrux.

“Molly had the children scrubbing Grimmauld Place top to bottom last summer,” Minerva said, tapping her fingers against the table lightly. “I never thought to ask, but if any of them did find something like a locket or cup, I’m sure she’ll know where it is.”

“I’ll talk to Tonks and Shaklebolt tomorrow,” Alastor agreed with a slight nod. “Given we’ve got evidence that both Lestrange brothers were involved in the Ministry incident and Bellatrix was there as well, I’d say we’ve got ample cause for a search of their estate.”

“Good luck with that,” Severus said.

“You disagree?”

“That you’ve cause? No. That you’ll get inside those doors? Absolutely.” There were several of the Dark Lord’s followers that had high-level Ministry connections that hadn’t been caught at the Department of Mysteries, as well as a coterie of wealthy pure blood Wizarding families who weren’t actually allied with the Dark Lord but still felt themselves above the rest of the Wizarding population, who would strongly protest the invasion of a the estate of such an old and respected family. However little that respect was deserved. He very much doubted that any sort of intrusive search would be authorized no matter how persuasive a case the Aurors made. “Still, you can probably talk your way into the Malfoys’, given that Narcissa and Draco have left the country.”

Alastor grunted in assent, although he didn’t look as pleased with the prospect as Severus had expected. “Worth a shot, but Lucius had the diary, and I doubt Voldemort would have wanted them kept them too close together.”

Hm. Point. He shrugged slightly and then pushed himself to his feet. “Perhaps. However, you now have all of the information I do,” at least on that particular subject, “so if you will excuse me, I find myself in great need of sleep. Have a pleasant evening.”

Minerva nodded and bade him goodnight; Alastor started to say something else—most likely his opinion of what Severus needed, which no doubt involved some sort of bodily harm—but Albus interrupted him with a suggestion of several objects that could be their missing Horcrux, and Severus was able to slip away.

Severus’ fingers brushed the edge of the second piece of parchment lightly as he walked. He, personally, didn’t see any harm in delivering it to Lucius. Or perhaps a copy. It was possible that there were spells on the parchment, after all, and now that the Dementors had deserted their posts, extra caution was certainly warranted. But a copy would neatly solve the problem of any spells that might be embedded in the original parchment making their way into Azkaban, while still presumably passing along the information that Narcissa had wanted him to know.

It stood to reason that Lucius wouldn’t have written down quite everything he knew about Horcruxes; he would do what he could to protect his family, yes, but it was plots within plots yet again. Perhaps, if he had a reason to feel grateful—say, for example, getting a message from his wife and son—he might be inclined to give them a bit more.

Severus snorted, entering his quarters and waving the panel shut behind him. He would be willing to bet that the number of times Lucius Malfoy had felt truly grateful could be counted on the fingers of his remaining hand, and he would almost certainly still have several to spare. But…perhaps. If nothing else, there is always Veritaserum.

* * * * *

Severus glared as the last of the first years scurried out of the room. For some reason even the youngest students seemed excited about St. Valentines Day and after an hour of concentrated stupidity epitomized by two little idiots who actually thought that whispering during his lecture was a good idea, he was ready to toss the lot of them in the lake and be done with it. It was probably just as well that he was able to send them off to torment whomever their next professor happened to be; if he’d had to keep them around any longer he’d probably have ended up using one of them in a particularly unpleasant demonstration. He shook his head. The third years would begin to trickle in shortly, and he had some hope that they’d at least refrain from antagonizing him any further.

Why Albus thinks combined Slytherin-Gryffindor and Ravenclaw-Hufflepuff classes are a good idea, I will never understand. Then again, he doesn’t actually have to teach any of the little monsters anymore either, so perhaps that’s the explanation.

He glared at the first two Ravenclaw students in the door, both of whom shrank back most satisfyingly, and he felt himself relax slightly. He was supposed to continue his lecture on mind-altering substances today, and that always went so much better with concrete examples. And as he recalled, he had plenty his storeroom.

“Severus?” a female voice called quietly from the hallway, and his mood begin to darken again until he realized that it was Minerva. For a moment he’d thought it was Poppy coming to harass him. She’d been leaving him more-or-less alone since the incident with the Muggle mind-healer, but he had no illusions about how long that was going to last. And Merlin knows what she’ll come up with next. Hypnosis, perhaps?

“Touch nothing,” he ordered the students sharply, before stepping out into the corridor to greet Minerva.

“Severus, I don’t mean to interrupt your class—actually I should be getting back to my own in a few minutes,” she began as soon as he joined her, “but I was wondering if you would help me test a theory of mine later this evening.”

She had kept her voice low enough that students walking by wouldn’t be able to make out her words, and Severus’ eyes narrowed slightly. “What sort of theory?”

“Now isn’t a good time to explain, but if you wouldn’t mind taking your dinner late, would you meet me in my study after classes are finished?”

Minerva was as Gryffindor as the students in her house, and Severus would have to have been blind and deaf not to see that she had something of some importance planned. But she obviously didn’t have any intention of revealing it here, and after a minute he nodded slightly.

Whatever she wanted him for, it was probably marginally more interesting than pouring over Occlumency books looking for some new idea or inspiration, which was what he had been doing in most of his free time since he’d passed along Lucius note to Albus. So far he’d found nothing of use, and Harry was still being stubborn about his part in the Department of Mysteries fiasco, so the last few Occlumency lessons had been decidedly…strained. And he still hadn’t come up with a good way to inform Harry about what the Dark Lord might have accidentally made him. What the Dark Lord very probably had made him.

Severus had no doubts that Albus would have forbidden him to inform the boy if he had asked for permission or even suggested doing so offhand, but he had no intention of making his plans known until after the deed was done. Easier to gain forgiveness, and all that. And the incident at the Department of Mysteries had made it abundantly clear that leaving the boy entirely unaware of potential danger was not a good idea, as little as he liked the idea of informing a fifteen year old that he was mentally linked to a madman. There has to be something that can be used to sever the connection between him and the Dark Lord. Or some way to destroy the soul fragment without killing him.

“Well?” Minerva asked.

He shook himself and then gave a more visible nod. “Since you’re obviously not going to enlighten me here, I suppose I’ll have to be there.”

* * * * *

I should have stayed in my rooms and read my Occlumency books. “I beg your pardon, but I’m afraid I didn’t hear you correctly. You want me to what?”

Minerva shook her head. “Don’t give me that look; you heard me perfectly well. And it’s not as though I haven’t done it before.”

Severus crossed his arms over his chest and glared. “As I recall, the last—and only—time you transfigured me into a snake, it was as part of a demonstration for your sixth years. At no point was I pitched down a hole into a basilisk den in the name of curiosity!” As last I heard, curiosity is supposed to kill cats, not unsuspecting potions masters.

“No one is going to pitch you down a black hole,” she returned with some asperity. “You’re just going to open the Chamber, and then we can slide down like we both did before. Well, and possibly I might need you to open a room or two once we’re inside, but….” She waved a hand.

Oh, yes, ‘just’. Gryffindors, I swear.

His lack of excitement at the idea must have shown on his face, because after a moment she continued. “Irma and I have been going over the papers that Harry found with every sort of decoding spell that either of us can come up with. She’s still certain that Parseltongue is the key, and maybe it is, but I can’t help but think that there must be more down there. The Chamber is too elaborate be nothing but a basilisk den—it’s not as though the snake was going to appreciate the décor.”

“Perhaps Salazar simply found himself with too much time on his hands.”

She glared. “Even if I’m wrong and Salazar Slytherin didn’t leave anything down there—aside, of course, from the hidden room Harry already found—this morning Albus and I were going over that oh-so-interesting letter from Mr. Malfoy, again, and I thought…well, we know that Riddle opened the Chamber when he was in school. Perhaps he put something in as well as letting something out. As far as well protected hiding places go, there aren’t many that are more impressive.” She shrugged slightly. “According to Albus, or at least according to Horace by way of Albus, Riddle had a rather obsessive interest in Horcruxes while he was in school, and given that Myrtle was murdered here….”

Severus couldn’t deny the logic in her reasoning—no matter how disturbing it was to think about a wizard who might have started creating the things while still underage—but that didn’t mean that the idea of sliding back down into that place thrilled him. Alastor and I are both lucky we didn’t break any limbs the last time. You’d think Salazar could have invested in an actual door at some point. “Why can’t you just transfigure a desk or something of that nature?”

“And how, precisely does one explain to a desk that you need it to tell a secret chamber to open? I’d no more be able to communicate with that than I would an ordinary snake from a pet store. I don’t particularly want to involve Harry, but we need a Parselmouth—or at least a snake who knows what’s going on—to get down there.”

Well, not involving Harry sounded like an excellent idea, he had to admit. The last thing they needed was to encourage him to continue to go exploring in places that no sane wizard would ever want to enter. And she was probably right about the usefulness of a transfigured inanimate object, but that still didn’t mean that he wanted her to use him.

“Besides which, you and Alastor spent longer in those tunnels than I did,” she continued. “Not that I’m suggesting that we go any distance down them, but you might have noticed something that I didn’t.” She smiled. “Somehow, I don’t think Alastor would be all that cooperative if I suggest that he be the one to open the Chamber.”

Severus could just imagine what Alastor’s reaction would be if Minerva proposed that he allow her to turn him into a snake. Amusing, certainly, but probably not particularly helpful. Pointing out that it would no doubt improve his looks probably wouldn’t help matters either. “Well, why don’t I transfigure you into a snake, and you can do the opening?”

She gave him a decidedly exasperated look. “Because I know perfectly well what marks you got in Transfiguration, and I have absolutely no desire to spend the next week in St. Mungo’s while they attempt to restore me to my proper form.”

He opened his mouth and then shut it again, unable to argue with her assessment of his Transfiguration skills. He’d never even done a human transfiguration before; he’d barely managed and OWL in the subject and hadn’t even considered attempting a NEWT. Not to mention that his grade hadn’t been high enough to get him in the class even if he’d had the desire. “You wanted to do this now, I assume?”

“No time like the present.”

Severus bit back his immediate response—a less-than-complimentary comment about the impulsiveness she shared with her students—and dipped his head slightly. “I suppose we might as well.” At least he was reasonably well caught-up on sleep at this point.

“You needn’t look so put-upon; I’m not suggesting that we explore the entire chamber tonight. We can use it as a scouting opportunity, and if we do find signs of anything interesting, we can bring some of the other Order members to help with the search. It’s not much more than a month until Easter so we could do it then, when most of the students are gone or buried in their books, and save ourselves the need to hide from prying eyes.”

Severus dipped his head slightly. “That’s probably wise.”

“Then shall we go?”

He opened his mouth to agree and then paused. “Give me a few moments to gather some things, would you?” Whatever else there might be in the Chamber, there was most definitely the remains of a basilisk. Granted that Harry had already got him a most generous sample—including a fang, which was one thing that they knew for a fact could destroy a Horcrux, at least one that it could penetrate—but as long as they were deliberately going down there, there was absolutely no reason that he couldn’t gather a few more samples. “In fact, if you would collect brooms, I’ll meet you at the entrance.”