“Good evening Harry,” Dumbledore greeted the teen as they gathered a few days after Harry’s release from the Hospital Wing and Gryffindor’s horrific lost to Hufflepuff. Many laid the blame squarely on the shoulders of Cormac McLaggen.

“Hello sir,” Harry said taking his usual seat.

“I trust Madam Pomfrey has restored you to top form,” Dumbledore said surveying the boy over the top of his half-moon spectacles.

“Yes sir, thank you,” Harry confirmed.

“Now, may I ask, what success have you had in obtaining the memory I requested at the end of our last lesson,” Dumbledore inquired.

“I’m sorry, sir,” Harry said crestfallen. “I haven’t gotten it yet.”

“I understand your mind has been…occupied with recent events,” Dumbledore said.

Harry shook his head, “I should have tried harder. I’ll do better.”

“After tonight, there will be no reason to meet until you are successful,” Dumbledore explained.

Harry nodded. “I’ll get it as soon as I can.”

Dumbledore nodded, “Until then, there is only one more memory I have to share with you.”

“Whose is it this time?” Harry asked, his curiosity peaked.

“My own,” Dumbledore said removing a vial from his sleeve. “This happened a number of years after the last time we encountered Tom. I was recently made headmaster after the retirement of Professor Dippet. In this time, Voldemort had begun to make a name for himself starting to draw others behind his beliefs.” The man used his wand to remove the cork from the vial tipping into the stone basin.

Harry followed his mentor into the memory. Dumbledore sat in his office, much unchanged from the present day. The lamps were lit on a stormy night as Tom Riddle entered the room. He was no longer the attractive young man they had seen in previous memories. His dark eyes had taken on a reddish hew, his once full head of dark hair gone thin, his young attractive face, skeletal.

Riddle had made the trip to Hogwarts to request a teaching position at the school, the Defense the Dark Arts position that was opening at the end of the year. Dumbledore refused to grant it, not for his age, as he had done when the young man requested it just after graduation. No, this was that Dumbledore feared why the young man wanted to take the teaching job. It was known at the school the man’s opinion of who should be part of the magical community. Dumbledore had dismissed the disappointed Riddle into the night. Since then, the Defense professor never lasted more than a year.

Harry and the headmaster discussed how similar Harry and Voldemort were to one another. Both were Half-Blood orphans raised in unhappy circumstances. Neither learned of magic, nor their possession of it until they received their letters from Hogwarts. Dumbledore surmised it was Harry’s blood status that drove Voldemort to select Harry to be the chosen victim of the prophecy, not Neville. The other similarities were the circumstance of his selection and only strengthened the connection between the two.

Harry noticed that Malfoy was coming down the hall from the Room of Requirements as he walked back to Gryffindor Tower from the Headmaster’s office. He had taken to trying to discover what Malfoy was up to, so far with little success. No matter what he requested of the room it refused to appear for him.

It was late by the time he arrived back to the Common Room, only Neville and Hermione were in the room waiting for him to return.

“Kreacher,” Harry called.

The snort-nosed house elf appeared in front of Harry. His bulbous eyes glared at his master, “Master is calling Kreacher,” the elf growled.

“I need you to follow Malfoy,” Harry clarified for good measure, “Draco Malfoy. I want to know where he goes, what he’s doing, everything.”

“How long is you wanting Kreacher to follow,” the elf asked.

“You can come and tell me in a few days,” Harry answered. “Kreacher, only come back if only us left in the Common Room. I mean if it’s me, Hermione, and Neville.” The boy wanted to make sure there were as few loopholes in his instructions as possible. He would not have the elf betray him worse than what he had done to Sirius.

“Harry is that really necessary,” Hermione asked watching the interaction.

“Go Kreacher,” Harry ordered. The elf disappeared before Harry replied to his friend’s question.

“Nobody else is taking this seriously. I want to know what Malfoy is doing. If he’s under the orders of You-Know-Who, it can’t be good.”

“How do you know he’s under His orders,” Neville asked.

“I told you what I heard him talking about with Snape, who else could he mean? You saw Borgin’s reaction to his arm. He has to have the Mark.” Harry insisted. “I don’t understand why nobody else is worried about him.”

“Dumbledore knows what he’s doing,” Neville reassured, unsuccessfully.

“We’ll see,” Harry asserted.

~~~*****~~~*****~~~

Harry sat with his copy of Advanced Potion-Making open as they were supposedly reviewing for working on their essays for Monday. He had spent most of the time playing with Luna’s hair or looking in the margins of his book noting some of the ingenious spells written there. One, “Sectumsempra”, was marked ‘for enemies’. Harry did not dare try it here, not in front of Hermione. She had made clear her disapproval of the Half-Blood Prince. If Harry used any of his privacy charms such as Muffliato, she would refuse to speak until Harry canceled the spell.

“How am I supposed to get this memory from Slughorn?” Harry grumbled. “The man barely speaks to me anymore. I thought maybe after the whole Ron incident…”

“Have you asked Professor Snape for help,” asked Hermione.

Harry shook his head, “I don’t think he would approve of me demanding this sort of thing from a professor.”

“I didn’t think Snape likes Slughorn,” Neville objected.

“Really?” asked Harry.

Neville nodded. “He’s always glaring at him down the table. You’ve never noticed.”

Harry shook his head. How had he missed that? Snape and Moody would be sorely disappointed in him. Though, Harry wondered what the elderly man had done to gain such disapproval.

“What you need is a dash of luck,” Luna said airily as she twisted a lock of blonde hair around her wand.

“What did you say,” Harry asked.

“You need a little luck,” Luna repeated.

“Luck… Liquid Luck… I can use the Felix Felicis!” Harry said excitedly. In his exuberance, he jostled Luna’s head off his knee. It hit the ground with a soft thump. The blonde sat up, rubbing softly at the back of her head.

“I’m sorry,” Harry said noticing the action, placing a kiss on the sore spot.

Luna smiled at him completely unphased.

“Do you think it will work?” Neville asked, more uncertain of this plan than any other.

“What does it hurt to try?” Hermione said looking at Harry. “When do you want to try?”

Harry shrugged uncertainly. Hagrid’s huge shadow fell over the assembled group. The half giant’s face was streaked with tears, his eyes red rimmed.

“What’s wrong,” Ginny demanded, patting the man’s huge arm.

“Aragog’s died,” Hagrid snuffled.

“Hagrid, we’re so sorry,” “Oh no,” Hermione and Ginny said at the same time. Harry and Neville said nothing. They were the only two that had actually met the giant spider while he was alive and were not sorry to hear of his passing.

“I’m to bury him tonight,” Hagrid explained. “I know it’s askin’ a lot… do yeh think… you could come… sneak out under yer dad’s old cloak?”

Harry chewed his lip. He wasn’t sure how to answer that question.

“We’ll do our best,” Hermione reassured.

“I know it’ll be hard with all the new security measures,” Hagrid said almost smiling at the chance they would risk so much for him.

“You’re really going to go?” Neville asked once Hagrid was well out of earshot.

“No, but I couldn’t tell him that,” Hermione said.

“That wasn’t very nice,” Luna observed. “It is much kinder to tell the person the truth.”

“Luna,” Neville pleaded with her to understand. “Sometimes it is nicer to not tell somebody the complete truth. I don’t think Hagrid to hear me say, ‘I don’t want to come because your pet almost let his family eat me and Harry while we were trying to save you from Azkaban.’”

“It hurts more when hard truths come out,” Luna replied. “We should have told him that we wouldn’t be able to get past the new security measures.”

Harry shook his head. “He wouldn’t have believed us. He knows that I have the map and my dad’s cloak. We can get practically anywhere in the castle with the two of those, day or night.”

“Luna had a point, we could have easily told him the truth,” Hermione sighed.

“You were the one who told him we would try and come,” Harry protested.

“I know,” Hermione sighed. “I just didn’t want to hurt his feeling any more than we have already. It’s been ages since our last visit.”

“We’ve been busy,” Neville reminded her. “Harry’s off with Quidditch and his lessons with Dumbledore, you’ve been buried in your books with everything he’s learning from his lessons, and Professor Sprout has me working in three different greenhouses four nights a week.”

“I know,” Hermione lamented. “I just feel like we should be doing more.”

Neville shook his head. Harry could almost laugh. Neville was always the most positive of the group, the one to find a cloud in every silver lining. He was the most concerned with making sure that they didn’t cause too much trouble and didn’t hurt too many feelings along the way. Here he was explaining the reason why it was better that they behaved in such a contrary manner.

“We’ll do what we can,” Harry promised his guilt riddled friend.

“Have you made up your mind on when to take the Felix?” Hermione asked over dinner several hours later.

Harry nodded, “Tonight. I won’t take all of it, just a sip, give myself a few hours. That way, I’ll more if this time it doesn’t work.”

Hermione nodded in approval. A little over an hour later Hermione and Neville watched as Harry dug the vial of golden liquid out of the bottom of his trunk. He broke the red wax seal taking a small sip of it.

The Felix was unlike anything he had ever consumed it didn’t have the foul taste he associated with all the other ones he had ever taken. As it took effect, he felt lighter, like a huge weight was taken off of his shoulders. His shoulders fell back as a new sense of easy took over. There was nothing to worry about.

“I’m going to go see Hagrid,” Harry informed his friends.
“What!” Demanded Hermione and Neville together.

“Yeah,” Harry confirmed. “I feel it’s the right thing to do.” When the boy rose and headed out of the room without grabbing the Marauder’s Map or his Invisibility Cloak. Hermione followed after him.

“Aren’t you going to take these,” she asked holding them out to him.

Harry shook his head. “I won’t need them.”

“Harry, this doesn’t seem like a very good idea,” Neville warned.

“Don’t worry Neville,” Harry reassured, “I have Felix on my side.”

“Harry,” Hermione begged.

The teen sighed taking the offered items, slipping on the cloak. He disappeared out the portrait hole accidentally knocking over McLaggen. By the time the boy was on his feet again, and his possession recollected and put in his bag, the Fat Lady had disappeared from the frame. Harry chuckled to himself as the other boy cursed at being locked out.

It was a wonderful spring night so Harry decided to detour down by the greenhouses. It was too warm to be under the cloak so he pulled it off enjoying the light breeze. It was still almost an hour before curfew so no professor could object to him being out, walking the grounds. As he passed Greenhouse Two Harry spotted an unexpected, but a pleasantly surprising outline.

“Thank you so much Pomona,” Slughorn said a large collection of cuttings in his head.

“Hello Professor,” Harry greeted coming up behind the man.

“Oh Harry, I didn’t see you there boy,” Slughorn said almost dropping his cuttings. “What are you doing out at this time of day?”

“I’m off to see Hagrid, his pet Argog, this giant spider died. He’s had him for years and he just died. I thought I would go and be with him for the burial.”

“I had heard rumor there were acromantulas in this forest,” Slughorn said more to himself.

“Right,” Harry agreed.

“Do you think Hagrid would mind if I came too?” Slughorn asked. “I have a very nice brandy that we can use to toast the departure of Athaba.”

“Aragog,” Harry corrected. “I don’t think Hagrid would mind. I think he would appreciate any sort of comfort.” This also had the benefit of being mostly true.

The Potions instructor Summoned a bottle to them before they walked the rest of the way to Hagrid’s hut. The half-giant was surprised but not unpleased to see Professor Slughorn. Through his grief, he didn’t notice the man taking vials of venom from Aragog’s lifeless jaws.

The three went inside to drink to the memory of Aragog. Harry took only a few sips as he refilled the glasses of his professors. The men didn’t notice how Harry wasn’t becoming drunk with them. Hagrid passed out from the drink leaving Harry alone with a very drunk Slughorn.

“You are so much like your mother Harry,” Slughorn observed.

“I have her eyes I know,” Harry agreed.

Slughorn nodded, “Her eyes. Lily such a lovely young woman. I was thought she would marry Severus. A much better match for their blood statuses.” Slughorn took another long drink.

“Then there was that horrible ‘Mudblood’ incident in their fifth year. He was never able to recover from that.” He shook his head sadly.

“What incident,” Harry asked.

“Severus called Lily ‘Mudblood’ in front of the whole school shortly after their Defense OWL,” Slughorn explained.

Harry frowned. Nobody had ever told him about this happening.

“Severus tried and tried to apologize,” Slughorn continued. “No matter what he did, Lily never spoke to him again.”

Harry’s mind reeled with this new information. Snape always made it sound like he and Harry’s mother were friends until she died, or at least until they went into hiding. Now, he was being told Snape hadn’t spoken to his mother since their fifth year. Slughorn’s head began to lull to his chest.

“Professor,” Harry said cautiously. He could feel that the effects of the potion were starting to wear off, if he didn’t get it soon he never would.

“What is it lad,” Slughorn slurred.

“I need that memory,” Harry stated firmly.

“Don’t ask me for that,” Slughorn begged. “You can’t ask me for that. There’s nothing to see there, just an old man’s failings.”

“Professor, there is something I need to know.” Harry insisted. “Do it for my mother. You said she was one of your favorite students. Did you know my mother died to save me?” The old man was weeping openly at this point but Harry continued nonetheless. “Voldemort gave her the chance to step aside. She didn’t have to die. She gave up her life to save mine.”

Slughorn placed his wand to his temple, he removed a long silver strand of memory putting it in a vial he withdrew from one of his many pockets. “Try and forgive me, I never wished for this to happen.” His head fell onto the scrubbed wooden table letting out a loud snore.

Harry grabbed the vial. He ran the entire way to Dumbledore’s office anxious to learn what his success might mean.

Harry didn’t wait for the spiral staircase to carry him to the door of the office. He ran up the last half, two at a time. He threw open the door of the office. Dumbledore didn’t look all that surprised to see the teen.

“Good evening Harry,” Dumbledore greeted setting aside his quill.

“I have it, sir,” Harry said catching his breath. “I’ve got Slughorn’s memory, just now.”

Dumbledore motioned for Harry to come to the desk. Harry extended the vial to man as he pulled the familiar stone basin in the center of the desk. Harry dived in first.

The setting was almost exactly the same as the last time they had viewed Slughorn’s memory. It was missing the glossy feeling that appeared in the altered version, however. Dumbledore appeared an instant later. They watched together as Slughorn explained to the teenage Tom Riddle what a Horcrux was and what must be done to create them. It was Tom’s question of the significance of making seven that seemed to make Slughorn uncomfortable.

“Do you think that number is important?” Harry asked as they resumed their usual places at memory’s end.

“Indeed,” confirmed the professor. “We already know that he was able to achieve his goal in a Horcrux more than once.”

“Really,” Harry asked.

“Of course, my dear boy,” Dumbledore said lightly. “You discovered and destroyed one already.”

Harry frowned.

“The Tom Riddle you described encountering down in the Chamber of Secrets. He was not a ghost or a mere shadow of a memory. The sixteen-year-old Tom had put a piece of his soul into that diary. That was how he was able to possess Miss Weasley.” Dumbledore explained. “After your encounter in the Chamber, I began to suspect that there might be others.”

Harry sighed. “They could be anything or anywhere. We don’t even know how many.”

“You are forgetting all we have seen, Harry,” Dumbledore said softly. “Remember the first time I met with the child. He kept treasures from particularly cruel or violent incidents.”

Harry nodded. “So, you think that the Horcruxes will be based on similar attacks. The worse murders he’s committed?”

“That would be a logical conclusion.” Dumbledore agreed.

Harry sighed, “Then there was his obsession with the Founders of Hogwarts.”

Dumbledore ran his good hand down his beard. “We know of three belongings that are supposed to have been in the possession of these individuals.”

“The necklace, the ring, and the cup,” Harry said ticking them off on his fingers.

“Yes,” agreed Dumbledore, “add this to the diary brings us to four.”

“What else could there be?” Harry asked.

“Have you ever considered the relationship between Voldemort and his familiar Nagini?” Dumbledore inquired.

Harry shook his head.

“It is closer than any normal sort of pet and master. He seems to have an unusual amount of control over it. It was his connection with the snake that let you see the images of the corridor in the Ministry of Magic last year.”

“The snake makes five,” Harry adding it to the count on his fingers.

“There is the bit of Voldemort that escaped without a body, barely alive, a parasitic force until he was able to construct a new body in the graveyard of Little Hangleton.”

“That’s only six,” Harry said ticking them off.

“For the last, we must guess,” Dumbledore informed him. “We know he was successful in acquiring items that belonged to Hufflepuff and Slytherin. We can assume would try to do the same for the remaining two Founders Ravenclaw, and Gryffindor.”

“Is there anything people know that people to either of them?” Harry asked.

Dumbledore cast his eyes to the self behind his desk, there stood the gleaming sword Harry had drawn out of the Sorting Hat in the Chamber of Secrets. “Both the Sorting Hat and the sword once belonged to the founder of your house.”

“You don’t think the Sorting Hat could be one?” Harry asked.

“No,” Dumbledore said adamantly. “Voldemort could not have befouled the Sorting Hat as he was never alone with it either as a student or after.”

Harry still looked uncertain.

“I assure you, Harry, I have checked it thoroughly,” Dumbledore reassured.

“And the sword,” Harry asked.

“Was considered lost to the ages until you removed it from that Sorting Hat nearly four years ago.”

“That means we need to find something of Ravenclaw’s,” Harry suggested.

Dumbledore nodded.

“Do we have any idea where they might be?” Harry asked.

“That is where I have been going when I have left the castle, researching the location of possible Horcruxes,” Dumbledore confided. “I believe I may know the location of one.”

“Can I go with you the next time you leave?” asked Harry.

“Do you wish to? It will likely be very dangerous,” Dumbledore warned.

“I’m going to have to be the one who kills him,” Harry insisted. “I should be able to help find the missing parts of his soul.”

“Indeed,” agreed Dumbledore. “It is only when all the pieces of the Voldemort’s soul are destroyed that that he will be truly able to die, gone forever.”

~~~*****~~~*****~~~

Kreacher appeared in the Gryffindor Common Room in the early hours of the Friday morning as Harry tried to figure out how to write the essay for Snape on the use of nonverbal spells in dueling. Harry looked up surprised as there was a second crack of Apparition. Dobby launched himself at Kreacher. The older elf blocked his face as Dobby’s fists came showering down on his huge nose.

“Dobby, Kreacher, stop it,” Harry demanded.

Dobby froze instantly, his fist held in midair.

“What in the name of Merlin is going on,” Harry demanded.

“Kreacher is here to report the movements of the Malfoy heir like master requested of Kreacher,” the elf said glaring at the teenager.

“What about you, Dobby,” Harry asked.

“Dobby is wanting to help Harry Potter too sir,” Dobby explained. “Dobby heard Kreacher saying was to follow Draco Malfoy and Dobby thought he could help, Harry Potter, sir. Dobby is not sleeping for four days, Harry Potter.”

“What did you find out?” He asked not caring with elf answered.

“The Malfoy heir takes his meals in the Great Hall, he attends his classes, he spends his time in the Slytherin Common Room, he does his homework…” Kreacher listed off. “He is a most worthy heir to the noble house of Malfoy.”

Dobby disagreed, “Draco is a bad boy,” the elf all but yelled at Kreacher. “The Malfoys is being bad wizards and bads to house elves.”

Kreacher growled at the younger elf.

“Did he ever go up the Room of Requirements?” Harry asked ignoring the glares the elves were shooting at one another?”

“Yes, Harry Potter, sir,” Dobby confirmed.

“Do you have any idea what he’s doing in there?”

Dobby’s green eyes shot to the ground, “No, Harry Potter, Dobby is not being able to follow him in.”

Harry sighed, “Okay, thank you for trying.”

“Is you wanting us to follow Draco still?” Dobby asked.

Harry frowned, “No…” Then he changed his mind… “Tell me the next he goes into the Room of Requirements.”

The elves nodded in understanding.

“Make sure you eat and sleep too,” Harry added. “I don’t want you being hurt because of Malfoy.”

The elves disappeared in matching cracks of Apparition. Harry hoped Dobby’s first stop was a bed. The little elf shouldn’t make himself sick trying to assist Harry in following Malfoy. It wasn’t even Dobby that he had set the task to. It was probably good the elf volunteered. He told him much more than Kreacher had.

“Harry Potter sir,” Dobby said appearing in front of Harry in the hallway in front of the Charms corridor. “Draco is in the Comes and Goes Room.” His message delivered the elf disappeared once more.

“Where are you going,” Hermione demanded as Harry ran down the hall.

Harry ignored the protests of his friends as he ran down the hall to see if he could catch Malfoy in there. Who he didn’t expect to see there was Professor Trelawney on the floor, her many shawls over her head, a bag of glass sherry bottles rattled at her feet.

“Professor,” Harry said running over, helping her to her feet. “Are you alright?”

“In all my years, of using that room…It’s never…” Trelawney said looking at the door confused.

“What happened Professor?” Harry asked.

“It threw me out,” Trelawney said getting to her feet with Harry’s assistance.

“The Room of Requirements threw you out?” Harry repeated.

“There was a voice, It wished to know who it was. The next thing I knew I was being unceremoniously thrown out of the room head first,” Trelawney explained.

“The voice, did you know it?” Harry asked hopefully.

“Never heard it in my life,” Trelawney said firmly.

Harry sighed.

“I have never felt so disrespect. Not even when I was so rudely interrupted during my interview for my current position,” Trelawney lamented.

“Sorry, what was that, Professor,” Harry said, studying the door to the room once more. He could feel the irritation coming from the professor, so he turned his attention back to her.

“My first interview with Dumbledore, some seventeen years ago,” Trelawney explained. “I must say he was rather impressed with me, coming from one who seemed to express a great amount of skepticism for the subject at the beginning of the interview. We were interrupted by none other than Severus Snape, who too was looking for a position at Hogwarts. I can only conclude he was hoping to receive tips listening at the keyhole.”

“Professor Snape was interrupted your interview?” Harry asked dumbfounded.

“It was the barman of the Hogshead truly, such an odd man, always smells of goats,” Trelawney corrected. “He brought Snape to Dumbledore as if to show him the young man’s true character.” Trelawney’s brows furrowed in concern. “Are you well, Potter? You look a little green.”

Harry shook his head.

“Let’s take you to the Hospital Wing,” Trelawney said nervously.

Harry shook his head again. “That’s alright, Professor. I’m just going to go have a lie down in back in the Tower.”

She didn’t look that convinced. Harry didn’t care. He drifted upstairs replaying the conversation over and over in his mind. He wandered up to the Tower and his room, eventually. Pulling the curtains around his bed tightly shut. Playing it over in his mind over and over again.

Professor Snape had was the one to overhear the prophecy. The “foolish young man” that’s how he thought of himself? Snape hadn’t spoken to his mother since their fifth year after he called her ‘Mudblood’. The man had been a Death Eater. Had he known that Lily, his friend once upon a time, her son could have been the one mentioned in the prophecy? Did he care about Harry at all? Why was he doing what he did now? Was this all a way to make it up to Lily? Did he feel any sort of guilt for his actions? How much of the prophecy had he heard and told Voldemort?

“Harry,” Neville asked.

Harry didn’t know what time it was. How long had he been here?

“Harry,” Neville repeated. “Are you alright?”

Harry moaned.

“What happened to you?” Neville asked pulling the curtains back to see Harry still fully dressed curled in a ball atop his covers.

“He’s a liar. It’s all a lie.” Harry mumbled.

“Who’s a liar?” Neville asked curiously.

“Snape. Everything he’s ever told me. It’s all a lie.” Harry said sitting up.

“What?” Neville said confused.

“It’s Snape’s fault my parents are dead. He was the one that overheard the prophecy. He’s the one that told You-Know-Who what he heard,” Harry explained.

“Are you sure?” Neville asked uncertainly. “Are you sure there isn’t more to the story?”

“He did it,” Harry insisted.

Neville cast his mind around for something, anything that could be of use. “Remember when we thought Sirius was guilty. There was more to the story then. Maybe we just don’t know all the facts.”

“He said it was a ‘foolish young man’ that told Voldemort. That’s how he thinks of himself. He probably doesn’t even care what he did.”

“Are you sure it was him?” Neville tried again.

“Trelawney told me herself,” Harry answered.

Harry and Neville sat there in a heavy silence, both too stunned to speak.

~~~*****~~~*****~~~

“Harry are you alright?” Hermione asked him the next morning.

Harry’s eyes were fixed on the year’s Defenses Against the Dark Arts instructor.

“Harry,” Hermione repeated.

Harry turned back to her this time. “What?”

“I asked if you are alright,” Hermione told him.

“I’m fine,” Harry insisted turning back to the head table.

“Are you sure,” Hermione asked following his line of sight.

“Yes,” Harry snapped.

“Did you find out what Malfoy is doing in the Room of Requirements?” Hermione asked.

Harry was drawn back to their own table. He had forgotten about what had drawn him to the seventh floor the previous day by the heaviness of the revelation.

“Did Professor Trelawney see anything when she was in there?” Neville asked.

Harry shook his head. “She didn’t say. She said she had never heard it before.”

“Did she say what she was trying to do,” Hermione asked.

“She had a bag of bottles,” Harry supplied.

Hermione had an odd look on her face in response to the information.

“Why did she mention Professor Snape,” Neville asked.

Harry hadn’t been willing to talk much the night before. Neville had stayed up most of the night to make sure his friend didn’t storm out of the Tower and attack the professor or something of the such.

“What about Professor Snape?” Hermione asked.

“He was the one who overheard the prophecy,” Harry growled.

Hermione breathed in deeply, “Harry, are you sure?”

“It’s what she said,” Harry said as he turned to look up the head table once more. Snape was gone. He sighed and turned back to his breakfast.

“Are you going to ask him about it?” Neville asked.

“Ask him what? Did he know it was my mum?” Harry snapped. “Did he care who it was or was he just doing what Voldemort wanted him to do?”

Neville shrugged uncertainly.

“Harry, there might have been more going on than we know. How many times has there been more information that could have helped us?”

“He told me that it was a ‘foolish young man’, Hermione. He doesn’t think it was that important.”
Harry pushed away his plate. “I’m not hungry. I’ll see you in class.”

Harry grabbed his bag. Classes would begin shortly, not that he was sure he could concentrate on the material if he went. He followed his feet drifting through the corridors, yet avoiding the hallways where classes were in session.

His attention was drawn by an unexpected sound, crying. It was coming from a bathroom on the second floor. Harry placed an ear on the boys’ bathroom door. There was nothing. He moved to the girls’.

“Don’t cry,” Moaning Myrtle pleaded.

This was her bathroom, her presence was expected. The voice that spoke next was not…

“He’s going to kill me…He says if I don’t do it soon, he’ll kill me...”

It was a male voice. Harry couldn’t determine whose voice it was, through the obstruction of the door. He pushed it open to see who it was.

Malfoy had his back to the door. He held tightly to the sink, hand on either side of the dirty porcelain. His entire frame shook as he sobbed. “I can’t do it…” Malfoy sobbed. He froze as he looked up seeing the silent Harry in the doorway. His wand was drawn.

Harry instinctively had his wand in his own hand. Malfoy’s curse missed Harry by inches. His bag was ripped from his shoulder its contents spilling across the floor. Harry ducked being a stall door as Malfoy sent a Leg-Locking Jinx at Harry. This one hit the door causing it to ricochet off it and smash a toilet water splashed over the floor.

Malfoy stepped clearly into Harry’s line of sight, “Crucio” on his lips.

“Sectumsempra!” Harry yelled slashing his wand in Malfoy’s direction. The blonde boy collapsed, his face and chest cut as if by an invisible sword. Blood gushed out of the boy onto the tile under him.

Harry collapsed next to the injured boy.

“MURDER! MURDER IN THE BATHROOM! MURDER!” Myrtle cried as she fled the room.

Snape threw open the door. Harry stared at the man terrified. The professor ignored his presence as he crouched over the bleeding child. He careful ran his wand over the boy’s face and chest stopping the flow of blood, the counter-curse sounded more like a song than a spell. The wound began to close as the man ran his wand over the flesh a second time. The third time it was completely healed a bright red line all that was left.

“Come now,” Snape said getting Malfoy to his feet, “You need the Hospital Wing.” He spoke softly to Malfoy, “There will be a degree of scarring, if we act quickly, you take dittany, we might avoid even that.” The pair was at the door when he spoke to Harry for the first time. “Do not even think of leaving.”

Harry sat silently on the floor the mixture of water and blood sinking further into his robes. His forgotten books and homework soaking in the mess. Snape returned ten minutes later.

“I didn’t mean for that to happen,” Harry blurted out as soon as Snape entered the room.

“Silence!” Snape yelled. His face was contorted in anger. He was more upset than Harry had ever seen him before. “What were you thinking! You used serious Dark Magic! You are lucky Malfoy is still alive.”

“You’re one to talk!” Harry yelled back. “You were a bloody Death Eater!”

“Mind your tone, Potter!” Snape warned. “I am a professor at this school. You will treat me with respect. You will tell me where you learned that spell.”

“Whatever,” Harry said rolling his eyes. “You’re a liar. You hadn’t spoken to my mum in years. You called her a Mudblood in front of the whole school.”

The professor’s expression began to slip from anger to horror. He had never told Harry of his and Lily’s falling out, nor its cause.

“You’re a murder,” Harry accused.

Snape stood silently, taken off-guard by the teen’s accusations.

“Some ‘foolish young man,’ told Voldemort about the prophecy. Bollocks! You killed my mum.” Snape fought back the tears that had crept up on him. Harry’s eyes locked with the haunted black eyes of his professor as he said,“You killed my mum the moment you gave that prophecy to Voldemort!” Harry’s anger burning its way into the professor’s mind.

A nine-year-old Snape hid behind bushes watching two girls in the playpark.
The younger redheaded girl, a young Lily Potter, picked up a flower, the petals opening and closing without her making a motion to do so. She both horrified and fascinated her sister with the action.
Snape could contain himself no longer and announced to Lily she was a witch and that he was a wizard. Whatever he was hoping to achieve he failed in his mission. The girls stormed off afraid and insulted.

The scene changed…
Severus stood in his new robes in line to be Sorted. He watched as Lily was swiftly placed in Gryffindor joining Sirius. James, Remus, and Peter joined her shortly before Snape was placed into Slytherin. His heart sinking as he walked over to his new table. A tall young man with astounding blonde hair and wearing a prefect’s badge extending a hand to welcome the newest Slytherin.

A new memory…
Harry watched as a young James and Sirius ran past Severus knocking the books out of his arms, the two Marauders laughing all the time.

The memory bled into another…
Snape sat on the edge of the Black Lake, his nose inches away from a paper held tightly in his hands.

“I’m bored,” complained Sirius.

“You can quiz me on Transfiguration,” Remus said offering the stack of notes.
James was playing with a practice Snitch he released it only to catch with the tips of his fingers before it could escape. Spotting Snape he pocketed it. “I’ve got a better idea.”

“Oi Snape!” James called getting the other boy’s attention.
Snape’s hand dived for his wand it was halfway out when James yelled “Expelliarmus!”. Snape’s wand landed some ten feet away with a soft thump. “Impedimenta!” called James and Snape’s movements were halted as if he were bound with a quantity of rope. He fell over curses mixed with ineffective hexes from the wandless boy. James cast a cleaning charm of Snape’s mouth causing the other boy to choke on soap bubbles.
“Leave him ALONE,” demanded Lily as approached the crowd. “What’s he ever done to you?”
James paused as if he were seriously considering the matter. “Done? It’s more a matter of him merely existing.”
“Leave him alone you arrogant toerag,” Lily ordered.
“I’ll leave him alone if you say you’ll go out with me Evans,” James offered.
There was a flash of light and a bloody cut came across James’ face. Snape was armed once again.
“None of that,” James said and then Snape was hanging upside down, his robes over his head, his greying underpants on display for the world to see.
“Let him be,” ordered Lily once more.
“You should be glad Evans was here to save you Snivellus,” James said dropping the boy to the ground once more.
“I don’t need help from filthy little Mudbloods like her,” Snape snapped.
Lily blinked. “Fine,” she snapped, “I won’t bother in the future. And I would wash your pants if I were you, Snivellus.”

The memory changed once again…
Snape stood on the top of a windblown cliff, Dumbledore held his wand pointing at the Death Eater.
“What message does Voldemort have for me?” Dumbledore asked.
“No-No message,” Snape said. “I came of my own volition.”
“What request could a Death Eater have of me?”
“The Dark Lord… He believes the prophecy refers to Lily Evans… He means to hunt them down …Kill them all…”
“If she means so much to you why not request your master to spare her.”
“I have…”
“You disgust me.” Dumbledore seethed.
“You must save her.”
“You care nothing for her husband or child…”
“Hide them all then…” Snape pleaded.
“And what can you give me in return?” Dumbledore asked.
“In-in return?” Snape stumbled. “Anything.”

It was night as Snape ran through the streets of a small village. Harry could see the look of anxiety on the man’s face. The look changed to one of despair as the view of ruined house came into sight. Snape ran faster toward the house, bursting through the open front door. Snape ignored the prone form of James on the floor by the stairs. Snape ran up the stairs continuing down the hall. Lily lay in front of Harry’s crib. The toddler crying as Snape clung to Lily’s lifeless body. A letter with “Sev” written on the front in Lily’s distinctive hand lay on the floor next to Snape.

The memory shifted again…
It was many years later, Snape and Dumbledore were in the headmaster’s office. Dumbledore was barely conscious.
“You horrible old fool,” Snape said running his wand over the man’s charred hand. “What were you thinking? You had to have known the ring bore a heavy curse. The best I can do is to contain it.”
Dumbledore watched silently as Snape continued to work on his hand. “How long do I have?”
Snape looked at the blacked flesh, “I have managed to contain it for now. You might have a year, it is hard to say. Spells like this, they tend to grow stronger over time. If you have called me earlier, I might have been able to buy you longer.”

The memory shifted…
It was late at night Dumbledore sat behind his desk his fingers steepled in front of him.
“You plan to let the boy kill you?” Snape asked woefully.
“No Severus,” Dumbledore said. “It must be you that does it. The boy’s soul must remain undamaged.”
“What about my soul, Dumbledore? Mine?”
“Only you can know if helping an old man avoid pain and humiliation will harm your soul,” said Dumbledore. “Death is coming for me as certain as the Chudley Cannons will finish at the bottom of this year’s Quidditch standings.”
Snape gave a curt nod.

The memory changed once more. They were once again in the headmaster’s office. Snape stood in the center of the room. He looked as if she was going to be sick at any moment.

“There will come at a time when Lord Voldemort fears for the life of his snake.”

“For Nagini?” Snape looked confused.

“Precisely. If there comes a time when Lord Voldemort stops sending that snake forward to do his bidding but keeps it safe and close to him, magically protected, I think it will be safe to tell Harry.”

“Tell him what?”

“Tell him that on the night Lord Voldemort tried to kill him, when Lily cast her own life between them as a shield, the Killing Curse rebounded upon Lord Voldemort, and a fragment of Voldemort’s soul, blasted away from the rest attached itself to the only remaining living soul left in the destroyed building. Part of Voldemort soul lives in Harry. That is how he can speak to snakes, the connection that none could understand. As long as that fragment of his soul remains attached to and protected by Harry, Lord Voldemort cannot die.”

“So the boy… Harry must die?” asked Snape quietly.

“And Voldemort himself must do it. That is essential.”

After a long pause, Snape said, “I thought…all these years… that we were protecting him for her. For Lily.”

“We have protected him because it has been essential to teach him, to raise him, to let him try his strength.”

“I have spied and lied for you. It was all supposed to be to save Lily Potter’s son. Now you tell me you have been raising him as a pig for slaughter.”

“After all this time, Severus? Was it for all for Lily?”

Snape withdrew his wand casting “Expecto Patronum!” A gorgeous silver doe landed silently on the floor she gracefully circled the room, before running out one of the high windows, “Always.”

“Have you not grown to care for the boy at all?” Dumbledore asked, his eyes full of tears.

“He is so much more than Lily’s son,” Snape said storming out of the room.

Harry fell back onto the cool tiled floor of the bathroom of the seventh floor’s bathroom. The still blood tinged water soaking into his robes. Tears were running down Snape’s normally stony face as he balanced himself on the edge of a sink behind him.

“What the bloody Hell was that?” Harry demanded.

“Mind your tongue, Potter,” Snape said, his face returned to its normal blank expression. He extended his hand to the boy. Harry took it as was put back on his feet. “Legilimency should never be attempted in such fits of anger, Potter. You have no idea what you might find in the mind of the other.”

“What do you mean?” Harry asked.

Snape took the boy by his upper arm, “This is not the place,” he cast an eye back to Myrtle’s stall, “There is too much of a chance someone could learn of our discussion.”

The man waved his wand over Harry’s bag repairing and gathering the books back to him. He placed the black potions book in his bag last. The man removed the one thing that had not fallen out, Harry’s Invisibility Cloak he handed it to the boy. Harry slipped it on without any further instruction.

Harry followed silently behind the teacher down the halls of the castle. The stopped in front of the painting of the moonlit doe. The man pushed open the painting allowing the boy past him. Nothing had changed here since his last visit. Like back at Spinner’s End there were several framed photographs sitting on the mantle above the fireplace.

“You have questions,” Snape said as he took a seat across from Harry.

“Err…” Harry stumbled.

“Articulate as ever, Potter,” Snape said tersely, “How very like your father.”

“Leave my dad out of this,” Harry ordered.

“I am a professor, Potter. I will be treated with respect.” Snape snapped. “I am willing to answer any questions you have about what you saw in the bathroom. However, I will do deal with your lack of manners.”

Harry nodded. A heavy silence hung between them unsure where to begin.

“Those were all your memories,” Harry asked after a long pause.

“Indeed.”

“Was that the last time you spoke to my mum?” Harry asked uncertainly.

“No,” Snape said rising from his seat. “I spoke to her later that evening. I tried to apologize to Lily. I spent hours waiting outside the entrance to the Gryffindor common room in hopes of gaining your mother’s forgiveness.”

“She didn’t give it to you,” Harry said.

“No, she did not. She believed that I... that I was destined to be a Death Eater… That I was no longer the boy she had befriended in the playpark. My use of the word was the final confirmation of such a matter.”

Harry nodded once again.

“You have no questions about what else you saw? My relationship with Lily conclusion is the most trivial of what you witnessed, Potter.” Snape said as he picked up one of the photographs on the mantle. It was a fifteen or so year old Lily who sat under the shade of a large tree beside a river. Harry recognized the spot from his time in Cokeworth.

“I know,” Harry admitted. “Professor Dumbledore is dying?”

“He is,” Snape said setting the picture down.

“Is that why he’s always gone?” Harry asked.

“I do not know. There are things the headmaster refuses to share with me. You may have a better idea of what the headmaster is doing than I.” Snape said, a frown on his lips.

“The ring, the one with the curse,” Harry said softly, “It was a Horcrux.”

“What was that, Harry?” Snape demanded.

“The ring, the one that turned Dumbledore’s hand black, it was one of Voldemort’s Horcruxes.”

“One of?” Snape said shocked.

Harry nodded. “There are more. The diary that I destroyed in your second year. The ring that Dumbledore broke with Gryffindor’s sword. I guess the snake if Dumbledore thinks that’s why he won’t let it out of his sight. He had a necklace that belonged to Slytherin and a cup of Hufflepuff’s. He might have gotten something of Ravenclaw’s too and…”

“You,” concluded Snape.

“And me…” Harry confirmed.

“The Dark Lord divided his soul into seven pieces,” Snape said no more than a whisper.

“Eight,” Harry corrected. “There’s still the bit of him in his body.”

“Eight,” Snape agreed.

“I have to die,” Harry said heavily.

“There must be another way,” Snape beginning to pace the room.

Harry shook his head. “No, Dumbledore said ‘As long as the of Voldemort’s soul is in me he can’t die.”

“No,” Snape refused. “The old man can be wrong.”

Harry shook his head again. “It’s the prophecy.

“Damn that prophecy,” Snape snapped.

Undeterred Harry continued, “‘Neither can live while the other survives.’ I have to die so that Horcrux can be destroyed.”

“You are to be the one to vanquish the Dark Lord,” he reminded Harry. “How are you supposed to do that from beyond the veil?”

“I don’t know,” Harry admitted.

The room falling silent once more. The clocked ticked away several long minutes before Snape broke the silence.

“Where did you learn the spell you used on Malfoy?”

Harry pulled his Potions book from his bag, “It was in here.”

Snape took the book from the teen. He opened the cover of it, his already pale features draining of their remaining color. “Where in the name of Merlin did you get this, Potter?”

“Slughorn,” Harry said defensively. “He lent it to me to use during our first Potions class of the year. I didn’t have a book because I didn’t think I couldn’t take it since I only got an ‘E’ on my OWLs.”

“That was out of sheer laziness,” Snape scoffed.

Harry frowned. “I didn’t study,” the boy said gruffly.

Snape raised an eyebrow.

Harry shrugged, “I was still pretty upset about…about what happened to Sirius….I didn’t really care how I did on my exams. I only sat them because Mrs. Longbottom made me.”

“I must thank her the next time I see her,” Snape said dryly. “That explains the first class, Potter. Why do you have it now?”

“The hints, you know, the instructions in the margins are really useful. You should take a look. The Prince bloke, whoever he was a genius.”

Snape ignored the comment. “You found the spell in one of the margins,” Snape asked in clarification.

“Yeah,” Harry admitted.

“You said in the bathroom that you did not intend that outcome? Did you have any knowledge what that spell might do before you used it against Malfoy?”

Harry shook his head rapidly back and forth, “No sir.”

“Did you not learn your lesson about unknown books in your second year?” Snape asked exasperatedly.

Harry frowned. “What do you mean? I’ve been using the book all year. The book isn’t cursed or dark or anything.”

“Not dark, other’s might disagree,” Snape said setting the book down on the mantle.

“Yeah, Hermione doesn’t like the Prince too much,” Harry agreed. “She thinks he’s pretty dodgy. She won’t talk if we use any of his privacy spells.”

“A Gryffindor with common sense,” Snape mumbled. “Perhaps I should award Gryffindor house points.”

“You haven’t even looked at the spells or the potions. The Prince has helped me loads this year.” Harry protested.

“Stop using that asinine moniker, Potter.” Snape snapped. “I have no need to look at the book. I am fully aware of what’s in it.”

“How?” Harry asked.

“I am the Half-Blood Prince,” Snape said sadly.

~~~*****~~~*****~~~

Snape sentenced Harry to detention every weekend for the rest of term for his attack on Malfoy. The two of them would spend their time working on Harry’s Occlumency shields and discussing all the headmaster had shared with the teen about Voldemort. Much of the information was new to Snape. The Potion Master was horrified to learn the man planned to take Harry with him the next time he went to look for a Horcrux.

Since he was in detentions on the weekend Harry had to sit out of the Quidditch match. Ginny moved into his place as Seeker, the Chaser spot taken on by Dean Thomas. The team, despite missing Harry was able to synch the Cup with a four-hundred-point win over Ravenclaw.

It was a week after Gryffindor's win when Jimmy Peaks came up to Harry with a scroll wrapped in a purple ribbon.

“What’s that,” Jimmy asked.

“It’s from Dumbledore,” Harry answered absentmindedly, reading the letter.

Jimmy nodded before disappearing to join his friends in the far corner of the common room.

“He’s found one,” Neville squeaked.

Harry nodded. His friends were unaware of what he had learned from Snape. They had no idea Harry was a Horcrux. That the destruction of the one they found tonight if they found one, would bring Harry one step closer to his own death.

“When do you go?” Hermione asked.

Harry scanned down the letter once more. “I’m supposed to meet him at nine in his office.”

Hermione looked at her watch. “That’s only a half an hour for now.”

Harry nodded. He motioned for them to follow him up the stairs. Neville and Hermione did as requested without protest. Once in his room, Harry opened his trunk and removed the vial of the remaining Felix Felcis. “I want you to have this,” he gave it to Hermione.

“Harry,” Hermione protested.

Harry shook his head. “You’ll need it more than me. With Dumbledore out of the castle, who knows what Malfoy will try. You take it, share it with Luna and Ginny. Contact the members of the DA if you can. Everyone will need to be vigilant.”

Harry pulled the curly haired girl into a tight hug, “Be careful.”

Hermione nodded into his shoulder, “You too.”

“No problem,” Harry promised full of ease he didn’t feel.

Harry extended his hand to Neville. The other boy shook his head. “You’ll be back in a few hours. You’re going with Dumbledore. He’ll bring you back.”

Harry gave his friend a weak smile. “Look after them for me, especially Luna.”

Neville nodded. Harry grabbed his Invisibility Cloak and pulled it on. He walked down the headmaster’s office a heavy filling of unease in his stomach. Dumbledore was ready for him as he entered the office. The two walked down to the village, outside of the school’s wards preventing Apparition. Unseen under his cloak Harry took hold of the old man’s arm. He spun them on his heel. They reappeared many miles away on a windblown cliffside high above a stormy sea. Voldemort and the other children of the orphanage had visited this place during his childhood, Harry remembered from his lessons.

Harry and Dumbledore climbed down the jagged cliff face. The man’s injured hand slowing his descent. When they reached the wave crashed stone at the bottom Harry could see the entrance to a cave that would be filled during high tide. Dumbledore with the ease of a younger man dived in and began to swim the short distance to the cave, his lit wand clutched between his teeth. Harry followed him into the small chamber of the cave.

Dumbledore was running his hands over the rocks tracing the magic to discover the way forward. He must have figured something out as he drew a silver knife and cut his arm, blood splattering the rock. They paused for a moment as Dumbledore healed the wound like Snape had done Malfoy, before walking further into the cave.

The chamber was filled with an eerie green light, emanating from an island at the center. Dumbledore stopped on the bank, drawing up a boat from the depth of the magically skilled waters. Harry was told to get in first and to make sure he did not disturb the waters. The boat began to move slowly across the lake surface as soon as Dumbledore had climbed in.

Harry gazed down at the surface of the water as they crossed spotting the decaying flesh of a human hand just below the surface. It was not alone, he could see more as they crossed. The lake was filled with Inferi.

Dumbledore was the first to leave to boat walking over to the stone basin. The light was much brighter here, painfully so. The headmaster conjured a glass and began to drink the potion within. Harry watch horrified as the man drank down one glass after the other. Harry had to help the man continue to drink further down they went, keeping the promise, he made before they left the castle. Harry wondered what visions the man saw as he screamed in pain, begging the unseen figure for forgiveness.

The potion was gone, a necklace emerged at the bottom of the basin. Dumbledore picked it up to examine it before he collapsed from a wave of pain. His unconscious form spread over Harry’s lap. He woke a moment later, as he pleaded for water. His spells unsuccessful, Harry broke the surface of the water drawing the attention the Infieri, but finally able to bring some comfort to his distressed professor. The enchanted corpse came toward them, Harry’s spells completely ineffective. It was Dumbledore that saved them, casting a ring of fire scaring away the dead.

Harry and the disabled Dumbledore sailed across once more. Harry gave his blood to the stone this time, as he had cut himself their struggle. Harry Apparated the two back to the village of Hogsmeade.

Madame Rosmerta greeting them outside the pub. Harry cursed looking up to see the castle, the Dark Mark shone above the Astronomy Tower. Dumbledore borrowed a pair of brooms from the barmaid, Harry ready to help the injured professor fly to the top of the tower. Dumbledore begged Harry to bring Professor Snape to him. Before Harry could leave to get help the door opened.

“Hello Draco,” Dumbledore greeted weakly.

Harry was frozen under his cloak; the headmaster must have silently cast a Body-Bind spell on him. Draco took the opportunity to Disarm the headmaster. The old man’s wand flying off the top of the tower into the dark grounds below.

Harry listened as the boy talked about how he had managed to get repair the vanishing cabinet that was broken during Harry’s second year. A Slytherin had been caught between the two, in a corridor of sorts, for several weeks the previous year after he tried to sentence Fred and George to detention. As they spoke more Death Eaters appeared, egging Draco to do what he was ordered. Still, the blonde teen did nothing. Snape appeared some minutes later, Dumbledore’s strength all but gone. The old man pleaded with him.

“Avada Kadavra,” Snape said his voice full of hate.

Harry knew that it was coming. He knew the Potion Master was keeping an oath to the man. Still, it shook Harry to his core to witness Dumbledore’s death. The hate in Snape’s voice to those who were unaware of the promise would think he hated the headmaster and could finally show his contempt. Harry saw the truth. He knew how much pain it caused the Potion’s Master to cast the spell, his hatred for having to cast it and audacity of Dumbledore to ask him to commit such an act.

The headmaster gone, Harry was released from his Body-Bind. Harry ran down the stairs, the battle still taking place as the Death Eaters retreated. Harry helped to defend his friends, professors, and assembled Order members as they fought against the intruders. He followed behind Snape, both knew it would be important that it appeared Harry hated the man. Harry watched as his one-time professor Apparated away with Draco.

Harry helped Hagrid to put out the fire on the roof of his house. The half-giant was the first to learn of the headmaster’s death, that was not on the Astronomy Tower. The man carried the broken corpse up to the Hospital Wing to keep in away from the eyes of the students.

Harry found a glittering gold object beside where Dumbledore’s body lay. The locket had fallen out of the dead man’s pocket when he tumbled off the top of the Astronomy Tower. Inside the locket contained a note from R.A.B telling the reader (presumed to be Voldemort) that R.A.B. had stolen the locket and had plans to destroy it.

Harry read the note. He sat frozen where he sat in the Hospital Wing, many of his friends there being treated for their injuries from the fight. Luna, Ginny, Hermione, and Neville were not hurt. The luck potion had done its job. Bill Weasley wasn’t so fortunate.

Bill had come across the werewolf Greyback in the halls. The werewolf had attacked him, mauling his once handsome face. Mrs. Weasley was convinced Fleur would leave him. The younger witch, much to her surprise recommitted herself to Bill, scars and all.

This lead to a much more unexpected admission, Tonks’ love for Remus. The young Auror’s Patronus was not a large dog, but a wolf, Remus’ wolf. The man had spurned her advances because of his condition, not for lack of affection for the younger woman. It was a heart-broken Professor McGonagall that gave her blessing to the pairing. Saying Dumbledore would have wanted to see both of them happy. That more love was needed in the world, no matter where you might find it.

~~~*****~~~*****~~~

Harry didn’t like funerals. He had decided this when Mr. Weasley died. When Sirius was confirmed dead, Harry and Remus had decided not have a formal funeral. The whereabouts of Sirius’ remains still unknown. Instead, they had spent an evening out at a Muggle pub drinking with several other members of the Order. Remus had even used a bit of magic to create Harry a fake id that passed the inspection of any Muggle that asked. It turned out it was a trick he had learned from Sirius when the man had been kicked out of his parents’ home during his fifth year of school. The Remus and the others took turns telling Harry all of the stories they could remember of the man. Most were ones Harry had never heard before, all but a rare few taking place before his godfather’s incarceration in Azkaban.

Harry thought back to that night as he took his seat in an uncomfortable wooden chair on the lawn of the school. He shifted in his formal robes as he slipped Luna’s small hand into his own.

Harry’s mind drifted from what the speaker was saying to his first memory of Dumbledore, the very first Chocolate Frog card he collected. Then later that evening to the real man starting the term with a few words of utter nonsense. The man had given Harry all the tools he would need to face Voldemort even as an eleven-year-old boy. He had felt it was important to give Harry the chance to face the man who had shaped his future. Still, there was so much he had never asked, so much he had taken for granted.

Luna’s squeezing of his hand drew him out of his thoughts. Harry looked up almost blinded by the sun reflecting off her pale blond hair. The crowds were starting to break up. The funeral must have ended.

Harry stood, “I’ll be back in a few minutes, I need to talk to Professor McGonagall.”

Luna silently rose to the tips of her toes placing a kiss on his cheek. “I’ll wait for you by the carriages.”

Harry nodded before setting off. He made his way through the crowd of students, Ministry officials, and other notable guests.

Professor McGonagall stood near the front of the rows of chairs speaking to two men in dark robes and metals of foreign office Harry suspected.

“Professor McGonagall,” Harry said approaching the woman.

McGonagall turned to look that the teenager. “Excuse me, gentlemen,” she said politely as possible, making her excuses. “What is it, Potter? I am very busy.”

“I know,” Harry apologized. “I needed to speak to you before got on the train.”

“This matter can’t wait until the start of next term,” the former Transfiguration professor asked hopefully.

Harry shook his head, “I’m not coming back next term.”

The normally stern mask slipped from the woman’s solemn face. “May I ask why?”

“There’s something I have to do, that Dumbledore asked me to do,” Harry said cagily.

“This task cannot wait until you’ve completed your education. You are still underage, Potter,” McGonagall objected.

“I can’t ask for others to wait for me finish my education so I can stay comfortable and warm in the castle. If I wait, many more people will die,” Harry insisted.

“This task, whatever it is, it has to be you to do it?” McGonagall asked.

Harry nodded. “It can’t be anyone else. It has to be me. It’s had to be me since the night You-Know-Who killed my parents.”

“I wish I could assist you, Potter,” McGonagall said softly.

Harry nodded, “Me too,” he paused. “There’s one thing you can do,” he said hopefully.

“What is that Potter,” she said surveying the teen warily.

“Professor Snape,” Harry began. He watched as the tight features darkened at the mention of the Potions Master. “He…there was more…. He was doing what was asked of him in a horrible situation… Please, try and keep in mind even when it may not look like it, he is doing his best to save as many lives as possible.”

McGonagall frowned. “You wish me to believe that Severus Snape killed Albus Dumbledore in order to save the lives of others?”

Harry sighed, “I know how it sounds. I wish I could tell you more, but please try and believe me.”

McGonagall nodded soberly. “Albus was always fascinated with your compassion, Potter. It is a wonder you are growing up with those wretched Muggle relatives.” She placed a hand on the boy’s shoulder, “You look so much like your father,” Harry tried not to roll his eyes at the familiar statement, but was surprised by the end to it, “but have your mother’s heart.”

Harry cooked his head slightly to the side.

“Lily had a great capacity to forgive, even when no others around them could possibly understand how or why.” McGonagall elaborated. “I wish you the best of luck in what you are trying to achieve, Potter. Do your best to stay safe and come back to us when you can.”

“Yes ma’am,” Harry said, adjusting his glasses to cover up wiping the tears that had gathered there.

She squeezed his shoulder once more. Before turning and making her way over to Professor Flitwick who was trying to get her attention.

“What was that about?” Ginny asked coming to stand beside Harry.

The boy shook his head, “I don’t know exactly.”

“You don’t know what you were just talking to McGonagall about?”

“No, not that, the shoulder squeeze,” he clarified.

“I wanted to know what you were telling McGonagall about,” Ginny explained to him.

Harry sighed. “I wish I could tell you, Ginny.”

“It’s just you have to go and be the big bad hero,” Ginny sighed.

Harry looked at her with wide green eyes. “What does that mean?”

“Let me guess, Dumbledore asked you to do something, something big when you left to go to that cave that night. Now, you’re going to leave and do it, no matter what anyone has to say about it.” Ginny said sounding almost bitter.

“Ginny,” Harry began. How could he explain this to her? “I have to go. Dumbledore asked me and I have to go.”

“Did you even think about the people you’ll be leaving behind?” Ginny demanded. “Do you know devastated my mum would be if she found out you were leaving to do Merlin knows what? Do you know what would happen to her if you were to get hurt, let alone killed? She’s already lost Dad. She can’t lose you too.”

“Ginny,” Harry repeated.

“No,” Ginny said defensively. “No, you can’t just vanish this away, Harry.”

The teen moved his wand in a subtle arch around them casting a Silencing Spell around them.

“Ginny, I wish I could tell you what I was doing but I can’t. Dumbledore said that I have to keep it a secret.” Harry pleaded with her to understand.

“Don’t,” she said moving away as he tried to take her upper arm in his hand. “Don’t you understand, if you go… Neville will leave too…”

Harry sighed. He hadn’t considered this action. His friends had been with him every step of the way, why would they not come with him now. He couldn’t ask that of them. He couldn’t take on the responsibility for their safety.

“He won’t,” Harry tried to reassure her.

Ginny shook her head. “He will, he always does.”

Harry shook his head, “He won’t this time. He has too much at stake.”

Ginny scoffed, “And you don’t?”

Harry shook his head again, “I don’t have a family.”

“You do,” insisted Ginny. “We might not be blood but Mum… we all think of you as our family. You have Hermione, Neville, Remus, Hagrid…McGonagall. They are your family, Harry.”

“Then that’s more of a reason I have to go,” Harry said looking away from the girl for the first time. They were alone now on the lawn. He left the spell drop. “We better hurry, or we’ll miss the train.”

Ginny deflated. “Will you miss it at all?”

Harry looked up to the soaring towers, the huge glass windows of the Great Hall, over the Black Lake and the Giant Squid sunning itself on the banks. “More than words can say, this was the first place I ever called home.”

“It will always be waiting you welcome you back,” Ginny said looking up to the boy.

Harry smiled sadly, “I hope so.”