Harry looked between Severus and Salazar, waiting for one of them to speak and explain whatever Salazar had just said. Salazar's face was grim and Severus had stiffened next to Harry, only serving to make his anxiety worse. If Severus was responding in such a way, it couldn't be anything good. Hardly anything put the man on such edge.

"A living being cannot be a horcrux," Severus said eventually, his voice tight.

Harry frowned, confused at the comment.

"It is rare, but not impossible," Salazar told him.

When Severus paled uncharacteristically, Harry found he couldn't wait for the men to explain on their own. "What are you talking about? What the hell is a horcrux?"

Salazar sighed and looked at him. "A horcrux is the product of a branch of magic called Soul Magic. It is both White and Black Magic, called Grey Magic, dependent on what is done. In this case, it is closer to a branch of Black Magic," he explained. "A horcrux is a vessel infused with a piece of one's soul."

Harry felt something icy settle in his body as his heart began to race. "What...what does that mean?"

The glance Severus and Salazar sent each other before looking back at him decidedly did not make him feel any better.

"It is possible to split one's soul and place a piece into objects or, as Salazar has discovered, living things," Severus told him.

"I...I don't...I don't understand." Not exactly a truthful statement. Harry was sure he did understand, but he was also certain he didn't want to understand.

"The soul can be split. It is difficult and dangerous, but it has its benefits when done morally," Salazar explained. "It is a common belief that the act of murder is required to create a horcrux, but that is not so. In truth, only two spells, albeit complex spells, and a receptacle are needed. However, there is one other way to create a horcrux though this alternative is typically unintentional. This is what I believe has occurred."

"How so?" Severus asked while Harry fought to hear through the pounding of his heart echoing in his ears.

"You said this wizard tried to kill you with the Killing Curse, but it rebounded on him," Salazar clarified and Harry nodded jerkily. "Given the curse did not kill him, it is likely he had another horcrux prior to this event. As a result, the curse did the next thing it could; it forcibly tore his soul. When not removed and infused into an object with the proper spells, a soul fragment cannot survive independent of its source soul except in one situation: there is another living soul to attach to that is equivalent or greater in power."

Harry tried to hide his hitching chest as his breathing quickened, his spinning thoughts becoming dizzying. He swore his vision was beginning to tunnel as he stared at Salazar. He dropped his head into his hands as his head grew light and his vision blurred.

"It is my theory that, having this soul fragment within you for so many years, has created a Soul Bond. Do not fret. It is nothing so scandalous as a destined romantic entanglement," Salazar assured when Harry's eyes flew to him, wide and wild. "It simply means your souls' inherent magic has become accustomed to one another and compatible. This explains the pain you encounter upon his presence and touch. Once fractured, a soul cannot be restored, but the fragment wants to reunite. It tries to remove itself from you which strains your soul as it is similar to your own soul trying to split."

"It could rip my soul apart?" Harry whispered, unable to speak any louder in the face of the revelations. 

"Without proper removal, yes," Salazar admitted and Harry's head dropped into his hands again.

"What about the other things he has experienced?" Severus asked. "Visions, possession?"

"That, I believe, is the result of his choice of resurrection ritual combined with the Soul Bond," Salazar replied. "Using your blood created a Blood Bond. The physical link between this wizard and his soul fragment has been restored and, as his soul fragment is a part of you, this physical link extends to you. This allows him to connect with you in the ways he has."

The world was spinning out of control around Harry. The ground had disappeared and he was free-falling. Water or wind was rushing in his ears, deafening him. His fingers clenched in his hair and he suddenly became aware of a pulsing in his head, a heartbeat he'd never noticed before. The continued discussion between Severus and Salazar was muted, muffled by his rapid downward spiral. The hand that landed on his back, though gentle, was jarring and tore him aggressively back to the table though his spiral never ceased.

Jumping to his feet, he mumbled, "Excuse me," and hurried from the house without looking up and ignoring the calls of his name. he ran with no clear direction, both not having enough wherewithal to notice and still not knowing the entire village just yet. He just ran, barely registering the people he passed, but feeling their stares sink right into him as though they knew, as though they could see. It was like they all knew what was inside him, what it made him despite not knowing that himself. So, he ran until there were no more villagers, until there were no more eyes to see.

When he finally stopped, it was to realize he'd climbed well above the village, taking the northern road to the owl and raven tower, and bypassing it. There was a single large silver willow tree with a large piece of flat stone carved into a crescent with white threads crossing the surface. Behind the stone crescent's curve were two floating torches, their bases made of what seemed to be iron with leafy designs to look like oak branches were holding the blue flames. It was all arranged to overlook Camelot Village and provide a clear view of the sky above.

Harry moved to sit on the crescent and stared at the grass below him, his mind repeating what Salazar had revealed again and again. The more he thought about it, the sicker it made him feel.

He had a piece of Voldemort inside of him and had all this time.

What did that mean for him? Maybe it meant his uncle and aunt were right all along; he was a freak and everything was his fault. Everything that had happened to him since that Halloween, it was because of him and he deserved it all.

He barked a short, broken, humourless laugh.

Who would have though Vernon Dursley would have actually gotten something right?

He pulled his glasses off and dropped his head, pressing the heels of his palms into his burning eyes. What was he supposed to do now? How could he live knowing what he was keeping alive within him?

"Harry?"

Harry looked up at the deep, gruff voice that was similar to Moody's, and, replacing his glasses, found Godric standing a few meters away, watching him.

"Everything alright, lad?"

Harry scoffed and looked back over the village, watching the distant figures wandering about with absolutely no idea of what now existed among them.

"I'm great," Harry said sarcastically. "Just got a chunk of evil inside me is all."

"Ah, I see. Yes, that could be distressing," Godric said, taking a few steps towards Harry. "Got a bit of that myself."

"Somehow, I doubt that," Harry snapped.

Godric hummed. "Do you know what this place is?"

Harry looked up at the man with a frown. "What?"

Godric just gestured to the space they were in with the tree and torches and stone crescent.

"Oh, uh, no."

"It is for our Ladies of Magic and a place for us to feel that connection, to remember where we came from, and even to speak with our Ladies," Godric told him.

"Ladies?" Harry repeated, confused.

Godric nodded. "The goddesses Hecate and Selene, the givers of magic."

Harry gazed at him in surprise. History of Magic was sorely lacking, he was discovering.

"May I?" Godric asked, gesturing to the stone. Harry nodded and shifted to give the man space to sit. "Let me ask you something. What are the two most basic concepts that have created the world?"

Harry thought, glancing around as he did. His gaze fell on the light, flickering shadows they were casting from the torches behind them. "Light and dark," he offered. "They exist together."

Godric nodded with a smile. "And so it is with magic. You see, Lady Hecate and Lady Selene are both and neither light and dark, and that is how they created magic. Lady Hecate is largely representative of the world's darkness, yet she holds the world's light." He pointed to the torches behind them. "Lady Selene is associated with light and purity, yet she is the personification of the moon, of the time when the world is dark. When they created magic, they put their lightness and darkness into it because one cannot exist without the other, because they understood the balance that makes the world function. So, you see, we are all light and we are all dark. It is not ‘good' and ‘evil', it is the world's balance and magic's balance. What we do with that balance determines who we are, not the magic itself for magic cannot be one or the other, and magic cannot be ‘evil'."

"You don't consider Morgan evil?" Harry asked as he considered Godric's explanation.

Godric shook his head. "Simply consumed with the dark side of the balance and unable or unwilling to see the light that exists."

Harry tried to apply the offered logic to Voldemort. "What if you don't know what you are?"

Godric gave him a thoughtful look. "Would you come with me? I would like to show you something."

Looking back curiously, Harry agreed and left the open sanctuary with Godric. They didn't speak as they walked, descending towards the village whose activity, Harry could tell, had changed as the day grew later, nearing dinnertime. They didn't return to the village, however, turning to take the path that led to the forest where they'd gone to see Nimue. Godric guided him in and led him through the trees in a different direction from the enchantress.

Harry gazed around as he stepped over roots and rocks, watching the blue and white orbs that danced gently on the air. It wasn't long before they came to a small clearing that glowed an ethereal blueish-white. There wasn't much to the area, just a jagged boulder of white with an odd blue sheen that seemed to float beneath its surface, creating an interesting ghost-like reflection despite no sun or moonlight shining. A vague part of his memory remembered learning some geology in Year Five in primary school and reading ahead about this type of light pattern because he'd been so interested, but the actual term was escaping him. Large chunks and small pebbles from the boulder spotted the grassy ground.

"Do you know what this is?" Godric asked.

"It kind of looks like moonstone," Harry replied, "but it's not exactly the same as what I've used in Potions."

Godric couched down to pick up a cylindrical piece, turning to Harry. "It likely looks different because this is pure moonstone. It is considered the purest and most magical gem in our world, and, because of this, it only accepts the purest magic." He handed the moonstone shard to Harry who took it somewhat hesitantly, unsure he should touch something so special. "Pure magic does not mean just White or Light Magic; it is any magic cast with pure intention, light or dark."

Harry turned the moonstone over in his hands, watching the blueish-white glow.

"Keep that and if you still feel ‘evil', see what it will accept," Godric told him.

Harry looked up at Godric who was considering him with a kind expression and he nodded, mouth curving into a half-smile. Godric walked him from the forest and back to the empty Nye cottage where Harry climbed up into the loft. He sat on his bed, leaning on his knees and continuing to rotate the moonstone as he went over both Salazar's revelation and Godric's explanations.

It all seemed in conflict with each other and he couldn't stop feeling like he had no idea who or what he was. He couldn't stop feeling like everything had been his fault because he'd kept Voldemort alive, because he was Voldemort to some degree. He couldn't stop feeling like everyone had been right all along and he deserved everything. He couldn't stop feeling what he'd felt so many times before: he should have died that night.

"Harry?"

He looked up at Severus' voice and the footsteps on the ladder. Severus appeared and, the moment the dark eyes found him, he hurried across the loft, kneeling in front of Harry.

"Where the hell have you been?" Severus demanded. "You promised no running off."

Harry blinked, somewhat taken aback by the man's reaction. He knew Severus cared for him to some extent-knew it likely wasn't the same extent as his own for the man-but this reaction felt a little more in Harry's realm, felt a little more...parental. He wasn't sure what to think, not wanting to jump a line Severus' didn't want crossed.

"Harry," Severus stressed and Harry's hands around the moonstone were shaken earnestly by Severus'.

"I...sorry," Harry said, still a bit off-kilter. "I...I didn't leave the village. I was just up past the post tower."

Severus gave him a hard stare. "That is not the point and you know it."

"I..." Harry let out a quiet sigh, giving up any argument he thought he had. "I'm sorry. I just couldn't stay and listen anymore. I mean, come on. I have a piece of Voldemort in my bloody head!"

Severus gave him a sympathetic look. Harry looked down at his hands with a frown.

"Do you think Dumbledore knew?" he asked quietly, finally admitting to the one other fear he'd had since Salazar's reveal.

"I don't know," Severus said honestly.

"I bet he knew and it's why he let everything happen. He knew I was evil and I deserved it."

"Deserved what?"

"The Dursleys," Harry whispered only to have a hand curl around his chin and push his head up until he was meeting Severus' eyes.

"Absolutely not," Severus said firmly. "You did not deserve what those people did to you. you were a child. You are a child."

"But it's my fault!" Harry argued, pulling from the man's grasp. "I'm the reason Voldemort lived! It's my fault the Dursleys hate me! It's my fault he came back! It's my fault Cedric died! It's my fault we're here! It's my fault everything's happened because I'm evil because he's inside me and he wants me, wants his soul! I should have died! I was supposed to die! Everyone's right and I should just die!"

Severus gripped Harry's chin again. "Listen to me. Terrible things have happened to you, not because of you. As for Voldemort, you heard Salazar. He had another horcrux already and would have survived regardless of if this had occurred or not. He would have returned with or without you." He released Harry's chin and lifted his hand to brush Harry's fringe aside, tracing the seemingly innocuous scar. "You were not meant to die because you are meant to bring so much good to the world. You are certainly not evil, child."

Seeing the sincerity in the man's face, Harry leaned forward and hugged Severus around the neck. The professor's arms immediately wrapped around him and Harry could almost convince himself Severus cared for him in the same capacity he cared for the Potions Masters. After a few moments, he pulled back and Severus left the floor, easily summoning one of the chairs to sit on instead. Harry frowned briefly at the casual display of wandless magic.

"Can it be removed?" Harry asked eventually, hesitantly.

Severus sighed lightly. "Salazar isn't sure. He is going to speak with a few others. He is concerned about how entwined it has become with your own soul and magic."

Harry shuddered at the idea.

"It would seem coming here is one of the best things that could have happened in this regard," Severus said and Harry looked at him curiously. "Voldemort does not exist here, so his soul in you has gone dormant."

Harry blinked. "So, no more visions or pain?"

Severus shook his head with a small smile.

Despite knowing what resided in him, the news that he wouldn't have to worry about the awful visions and constant pain was relieving. He glanced at Severus' arm where the Dark Mark was just peeking out from the tunic sleeve.

"Your Mark will be dormant, too, then," Harry replied and Severus copied him, looking at his arm. He saw the spark of realization, the man clearly more focused on Harry than himself.

"Yes, I suppose that is true." There was a hint of wonder in the man's voice.

Harry couldn't help but notice a minute, but instant change in Severus: relief, a sense of freedom. Harry gave his own tiny smile for the professor and lowered his head to look at the moonstone he still held.

"What is that you have?" Severus asked casually and Harry held the stone out.

"Pure moonstone," Harry told him. "Godric gave it to me. He found me up the hill and we...talked. Did you know magic was created by Hecate and Selene?"

"Yes, I did," Severus replied, handing the stone back. "That is quite remarkable. Pure moonstone is extraordinarily rare in our time."

Harry nodded, turning the moonstone over.

"What is it the two of you talked about?" Severus asked.

"Magic," Harry said simply. "He said magic is balance and because of how Hecate and Selene made magic, it can't really be evil. He doesn't consider Morgan evil. I tried to think about Voldemort the same way, but...I don't know."

"Considering everything that has happened, it is a difficult concept to apply," Severus told him.

"What about you?" Harry asked, looking at him. "Do you consider Voldemort evil?"

"If I do, I have to consider myself evil as well," Severus said, nodding down at his Mark. "One has to be evil to follow evil."

"No, you're not," Harry denied quickly. "You didn't think you had any other way or choice. No one else gave you a chance."

"Perhaps," Severus mused. "There is something I must ask regarding our return to Hogwarts. I have mostly finalized the plans and paperwork with Salazar, but there are a couple things that need your input."

Harry just looked at the man, waiting.

"The first is your House," Severus told him. "You have the opportunity to be resorted, if you would like."

Harry thought back to his Sorting, the way the hat was torn between Gryffindor and Slytherin, seeming to only choose Gryffindor because he begged. He'd wondered since then if the hat had made the right choice...if he'd made the right choice. Now, he had the opportunity to make the opposite choice. Did he want to?

"I think I'll stay in Gryffindor," he finally decided. "The hat thought I belonged in Slytherin, but I think Gryffindor is where I'm supposed to be."

"If the last four and a half years are any indication," Severus muttered good-naturedly and Harry laughed. "The other question is living quarters. You, of course, stay with your House, but other quarters can be arranged."

"What kind of quarters?" 

Severus hesitated, appearing slightly uncomfortable. "Family quarters. I can request a set of family quarters in the event there is a need or desire for you to stay outside Gryffindor Tower."

Harry stared at the man, stunned at what was being offered and suggested. "I...I could stay with you?"

Severus nodded.

"Would you want that?"

"Would I want to have you nearby in a strange time as we help fight another war instead of having to chase you around and wonder if you're safe?" Severus said dryly and Harry had to hold back a grin. 

"Okay, I get it," Harry said, amused. "Yeah. Yeah, I think I'd like that."

Severus inclined his head, Harry recognizing the apparent relief that the man tried to hide. "I am going to return to Salazar and finalize things with these choices. Will you stay here?"

"I promise."

"I will return shortly."

Harry watched him leave the loft and glanced out the window to watch him walk up the road. When Severus was out of view, Harry looked back at the moonstone he held.

"If you still feel ‘evil', see what it will accept," Godric had said.

Harry stared at the stone as he thought back to moments with Severus, moments he'd been protected and cared for, moments in which Severus had worked to dismantle his negative opinions of himself. Warmth filled him and he grasped at it, imagining it filling the stone. His eyes widened and he smiled to himself when the stone glowed a bright, shimmering white, powered by a magic he knew couldn't be diminished by the soul he hosted next to his own.