-Harry-

Of all the times in the day, the best time for homework was the couple hours between the end of the last class of the day and dinner time. Hermione, of course, spent the whole time in the library. She was taking a gazillion classes and always had more homework than he or Ron. A lot of clubs met at this time, and most teachers had their office hours, so the common room wasn't horribly crowded until right before dinner. Harry settled on his favorite couch, a very soft and squashy scarlet monstrosity with a high carved back and low wide arms. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Ron sneak up the stairs to their dorm room. A few minutes later, Lavender snuck up as well, and Harry wondered if Ron was trying to avoid her or if they were arriving at pre-arranged but separate time to their make-out point.

He spent an hour on his Defense Against the Dark Arts homework before beginning his first letter to Severus since the week before the holidays. It felt odd to write a letter to him now. After the past weeks and the comfortable closeness they'd returned to at Shell Cottage, the letter seemed disjointed and impersonal, one-sided and remote. Still, it was all he had now, unless he did something to earn another detention with Severus, or unless Minerva had Severus join in another Animagus lesson.

A movement across the room distracted him. Romilda Vane was giggling loudly, leaning up against Colin Creevey who was pressed against the wall near the fireplace, looking totally out of his element. Omilda was several inches taller than Colin but that didn't seem to deter her in the least. Harry wasn't quite sure that Colin liked girls—his attention to Harry in the past had seemed almost crush-like. Now, with the overly flirtatious Romilda after him, Colin looked helplessly over at Harry who grinned and shrugged, then gave Colin the thumbs up. To his credit, Colin did not faint when Romilda kissed him. Harry really wished he had a camera.

/

8 January, 1997

Wednesday

Dear Severus:

It seems like forever since we left Shell Cottage. My brain knows it was hardly a week ago, but it seems so far away in time and space right now. I can't believe so much has happened already. I had another session with Professor Dumbledore on Monday night and he gave me a job to do. I'll tell you all about it now since I guess we won't be able to spend any sort of time together anytime soon. I feel weird writing this on paper but there's really no other way. So….Dumbledore had a memory from Voldemort's uncle that was really disturbing (in more than one way) and pretty much indicated that Voldemort stole his uncle's wand, murdered his Muggle father and grandparents, and implanted a false memory so that his uncle thought he did the crime himself. He died in Azkaban. And Voldemort was only my age when he did this. Dumbledore had a second memory too—from Professor Slughorn—and in that one Tom Riddle asked him what he knew about something called a Horcrux. Slughorn didn't give Dumbledore the real memory, though. It was 'tampered with'—probably to make Slughorn look better since he likely regretted what he did or said back then. Anyway, Dumbledore has asked me to get the real memory out of Slughorn.

The thing is, I can't find anything anywhere to explain what a Horcrux is. Even Hermione doesn't know but she figures it has to be something very dark since it was that part of the memory, that is, how Slughorn answered Tom, that was tampered with. I didn't even ask Dumbledore. I guess I was too caught up in having to talk Slughorn into giving something to me he wouldn't even give to the Headmaster. Anyway, I hung back after Potions class yesterday to talk to Slughorn about that memory. Well, I really started off by asking him about Horcruxes, and from his reaction you'd think that he'd rather starve to death than talk about them (and that's saying something as from all appearances he's really quite fond of food). I tried again by saying I really just thought there might be more to that memory Dumbledore showed me and he practically screamed at me then ran out of the room. I've decided to let it rest for a bit before I ask again. I'm still not sure why Dumbledore thinks I can get this real memory when he couldn't. I know Slughorn likes me (well, he used to anyway) but if he's hiding something from the Headmaster, is he likely just to drop it into my lap?

So, if anyone knows, you must. Just what is a Horcrux? And what does it have to do with Voldemort?

Minerva put off our Animagus lesson until tomorrow since I had the appointment with the Headmaster on Monday night and she thought it 'prudent' that I get in some homework time. I think I'm really close to transforming. Now that Christmas is over maybe she'll let me have a real go at it.

I was really hoping that Hermione and Ron would forget their issues over Christmas break but they're still at it. I guess it didn't help much that Lavender launched herself at Ron from about 20 feet away while we were talking in the common room when they all got back here from break. The way she attacked him reminded me of Hagrid's dog Fang when we used to go down to visit Hagrid when we were kids. He'd jump on you with his paws on your shoulders and lick you with that big drooly tongue. And to tell you the truth, Ron looked about as excited about the whole thing as I did whenever Fang bowled me over. Maybe it has something to do with the Christmas present Lavender gave him. It was this awful necklace with letters hanging off it spelling "My Sweetheart." I haven't actually seem him wear it yet, and if I can I'm going to nick it so I have something to give you for your birthday.

When is your birthday, by the way?

It's kind of hard getting back into the swing of things after the holidays. Defense class, for example. I mean, what was the deal today with Malfoy and Crabbengoyle? First of all, it looked like Crabbengoyle were a good 25% larger than they were when we left before Christmas. I'm pretty sure that Goyle's double chin has a double chin now and Crabbe's robes are ripping at the shoulder, like he's some sort of Incredible Hulk (sorry…Muggle superhero). Do you think they're really all human? As for Malfoy, it's almost like they sucked up him to expand themselves. He's really off, Severus—I know you can tell. I know you saw how fast Hermione bested him when they were dueling today. And he acted like he didn't even care when he was wrapped up in ropes from that non-verbal Incarcerous she cast. Listen, I really don't want to talk about Malfoy (really) but I'm worried about you, about what happened when you were called right before Christmas. I know he's supposed to do something, and you don't know what it is but you need to know. Please be careful. I don't know what it would do to me if something happened to you because of him. I'd have to go after him—I couldn't stop myself.

I was thinking of that talk we had that last night at Shell Cottage. The one about the prophecy and about our choices. I knew as soon as I asked you if you would walk away from all of this that you never would. I knew that for some reason, some promise you made or some sin in your past, you'll stick it out 'til the bloody end. But you act like I have a choice in the matter and that's what I don't understand. You say that Dumbledore is only a man but you know he's really so much more. How could I possibly choose anything else than to go down this road that Dumbledore made and that you're obviously already on? I kind of hate getting older and wiser. It was a lot easier when I was younger and Dumbledore was my hero and you were the villain. It's a lot easier to love and hate when you don't know the people you're loving and hating. When you get to know someone, it makes everything so much more complicated.

Last night when I went to bed, I thought I could hear the sea outside my window. It was only the wind, but ever since visiting Shell Cottage in the wintertime, I hear the wind and think of the ocean. Isn't it odd how one thing links to something else in your brain? When you walked by me in class today I smelled the salt air, like I did this winter when you hung your robes on that chair by the fire to dry after we dueled on the beach.

I hope my homework assignment is OK. I never knew that "dark" objects were so hard to destroy. I know I got one of the materials right—I have personal experience with Basilisk venom. Have you ever been down to the Chamber of Secrets?

Hermione is waiting for me in the library so I'll end here. We're trying to find anything that tells us what a Horcrux is and fortunately she can talk almost any teacher into giving her a pass for the Restricted Section.

How is Mac? Have you used him at all? I think you probably should—he's likely to forget what he's learned since he's so young. You could send him with a message to me—I don't think anyone knows him yet so it's probably not too risky.

I think it's time to start back on our questions.

Everyone always says I look just like my dad. The only thing they ever say about my mum is that I have her eyes. Is that all? Is there anything else of her in me?

Regards,

Harry

/

Harry shook out his arm. It didn't seem to be up to the task of writing long letters after its two and a half week break since first term ended. He had forgotten to put down his quill and splattered ink all over the sofa, his homework assignment and Crookshanks, who had curled up between his thigh and the arm of the sofa. He did a quick Scourgify then packed up his bag, cramming books and parchment, ink and quill in haphazardly.

A group of third and fourth year girls was studying together at a table across the common room. Harry was surprised to see Neville sitting with them and realized he was helping them with Herbology. It occurred to him then that he could be helping his housemates out more with Defense, but his own pressing issues and his desire to get down to the library to hunt for references to Horcruxes pushed him out through the portrait hole without a backward glance.

Was it his imagination or did his scar twinge a bit every time he thought about Horcruxes?

-Severus-

"Albus! Are you insane, old man?" Severus waved Harry's homework assignment/letter in the air as he charged into Dumbledore's office the next day.

"Not at all, at least not the last time I checked," answered the Headmaster calmly, pushing the bowl of lemon drops across the desk toward his Defense Against the Dark Arts professor. "Oh, and Happy Birthday, my boy."

Severus ignored the reference to the anniversary of his birth. He had just turned 37 and it seemed to him a quite undignified age, not nice and round and divisible by a multitude of numbers like 36 but instead divisible only by itself and one, a lonely number that was leaning much too close to that not-so-distant 40. He sat down heavily in one of the two chairs before Albus' desk and dropped the scroll onto the table.

"Horcruxes, Albus!" he hissed. "THIS is the Dark Lord's secret! And now Harry is trying to find out what one is…researching with Miss Granger. If anyone can find out, she can!" He looked up from his rant at his friend, his employer, and saw a pleased look on the old man's face. It made him furious.

"This is not a game, Albus! Do not give a boy…this boy…MY boy…such a powerful word and turn him out to see what he does with it. If we are dealing with a Horcrux, and you know it to be so, then sit him down and explain what it is. Do NOT send him off on fool's errands…."

"Severus! Severus!" Dumbledore finally stood to get his friend's attention.

Severus stopped his ranting and stared at the man behind the desk.

"You have five minutes," he said. "Five minutes to convince me that you have not gone 'round the bend. Five minutes…"

/

9 January, 1997

Thursday

Dear Harry:

It is always difficult to begin a new term after a holiday and I too miss the sound of the sea and the peace of our retreat at Shell Cottage. And while I may not agree with your rationalization of you not really having a choice in the direction of our life while the Dark Lord remains, I do appreciate the time you have spent thinking of our conversation before we returned to Hogwarts. The fact that I am on the road set for me by Professor Dumbledore need have no bearing on your own path and direction. As you have rightly determined, I am on this path because of commitments I have made and sins I have committed. You, on the other hand, are here because the occasion of your birth coincided with the prophecy of a mad woman. You committed no sin and made no vow. You need not be the sacrificial lamb. If you insist on moving forward and playing out this role 'til the end, you will not go blindly. For that reason, I will give you a piece of information that the Headmaster is not quite ready for you to know, or would prefer that you learn on your own, with the help of your friend Miss Granger. The Headmaster has given you a taste of the word—the word Horcrux—and has of course expected that you will dive into your own investigation of the word.

However, he has made your search nearly impossible, at least at Hogwarts. He has removed every book with any mention of the word from the library. Yes, it is indeed possible that he has missed one or two, but the references will be buried and nearly impossible to find.

A Horcrux is created with the darkest of dark magic. It is the splintered portion of a soul, housed in an object, and created at the time a murder is committed. The wizard who creates a Horcrux willingly splits his soul and secretes the torn-off portion in an object. The Horcrux assures that a piece of the wizard's soul remains if he is killed, giving him another chance at life. I have long suspected that this was the secret to the Dark Lord's return, for his own soul, freed from his body when he gave you that scar, wandered the earth looking for its other half.

While a Horcrux exists, holding a fragment of the Dark Lord's soul, he cannot truly be destroyed.

Few witches or wizards will willingly speak of Horcruxes. Do not ask any of your professors, or speak to any more of your classmates about this less you be branded as Dark. I will seek more information for you—covertly—and deliver to you what I deem necessary. Now that the Dark Lord is reborn, he surely has had the opportunity to make another Horcrux.

I agree with the Headmaster, knowing what I know now, that it is imperative that you convince Professor Slughorn to give you that memory. I do not know how you will convince him, but you must. And once you retrieve it, and you view it with the Headmaster, come to me immediately. Use your invisibility cloak and come to my chambers however you must. I do not order you to break school rules lightly; you must see the importance of this for our quest.

Mac is doing well. Yes, I have sent him on several deliveries, mainly to deliver orders to my potions ingredients suppliers in Diagon Alley. He has developed a fondness for chocolate digestives and scrambled eggs. I may send him to you one day to see if he still remembers his original master. Perhaps he can deliver a Valentine from your secret admirer next month.

I could have lived my entire life without considering the sexual orientation of Mr. Creevey. Thank you so much for bringing that little scenario so brightly to life.

No, I have never been to the Chamber of Secrets. As I am made to believe, the entrance can only be opened by a Parselmouth, and we haven't had a lot of those running around in the last years. If you would like to take me on a tour, perhaps we can arrange that over the Easter Holiday. I must admit that a trip to the bowels of the castle is not on my "100 things to do before I die" list, yet I'm open to it. You do know this is likely to open up a floodgate of memories and emotions for you, do you not?

Your question…my answer. You rub your hands together and worry your bottom lip when you are nervous or impatient just the way she used to. Like her, you seem to have few but very loyal friends and display a fierce protectiveness to the values you hold dear. You drink your tea exactly like she did (one sugar, light cream). You look much more like your mother than your father when you are asleep. Your features relax, the worry lines leave your face. You have your mother's eyes, as I have already said, but it's not just in their color, but in their shape, even when they are closed in sleep. While both of your parents were immensely brave, you are brave like she was. Brave in your convictions, brave in your values. When it comes to doing what is right, or what is easy, you choose exactly as she did.

And now my question:

If you had to spend a year on a deserted island, where there was no want of food or water, what five things would you bring with you, and why?

My birthday is January the 9th. As it has already passed (by the time you read this, in any event) you will have to save the lovely gift you mention for another year. And if that gift is no longer available (and I pray that it is not), I wouldn't mind my own Imagine t-shirt.

Regards,

Severus

/

Thoughts of Horcruxes continued to plague him as he finished the letter, re-read it, placed it with the other assignments. He wondered about what Albus had been doing on his trips away from Hogwarts. He wondered about the curse that was consuming the old man's body. He thought of the broken ring that had contained that curse.

He began to see the pattern, and to realize what Albus was up to, and where he was going, and what he was doing with Harry. Preparing him. For the hunt. And he couldn't survive this game, win this game, kill the prey, unless he could get inside the Dark Lord's mind.

Horcruxes. Mutliple Horcruxes. What kind of madman would create more than one?

What kind of madman would send a child off to hunt for them?

Minerva's head in his fireplace pulled him from his ill-tempered musings.

"He's done it, Severus. Managed the transformation. You need to come up here at once!" Her Scottish brogue was more pronounced when she was excited. Her eyes shone and she looked both proud and profoundly affected.

Severus picked up the floo powder and followed her through.