Patches of bright blue sky were beginning to appear over the castle turrets, the signs of summer approaching.
"For the last time, just forget about Malfoy." Hermione told Harry firmly.
They were sitting with Y/n and Ron in a sunny corner of the courtyard after lunch. Hermione and Ron were both clutching a Ministry of Magic leaflet: Common Apparition Mistakes and How to Avoid Them, for they were taking their tests that very afternoon, but by and large the leaflets had not proved soothing to the nerves. Ron gave a start and tried to hide behind Hermione as a girl came around the corner.
"It isn't Lavender." said Hermione wearily.
"Oh, good." said Ron, relaxing.
"I have told you to sort that out already..." Y/n said. He was reading a newspaper that Hermione had gotten that morning, with an article mentioning that several Death Eaters had been spotted attacking a muggle orphanage.
"Harry Potter?" said the girl. "I was asked to give you this." She held out a note.
"Thanks..." Harry said taking it and the girl began to leave.
"Dumbledore?" Y/n asked curiously.
"But he said we wouldn't be having any more lessons until we got the memory!" Harry said.
"Maybe he wants to check on how you're doing?" suggested Hermione, as Harry unrolled the parchment.
"Look at this." said Harry, handing the note to Hermione.
"Oh, for heaven's sake." she said, scanning it quickly and passing it to Ron, who read it through looking increasingly incredulous.
"He's mental" he said furiously. "That thing told its mates to eat Harry, Y/n and me! Told them to help themselves! And now Hagrid expects us to go down there and cry over its horrible hairy body!" He passed the note to Y/n.
Y/n looked down at the note but rather than finding Dumbledore's long, narrow, slanted writing, he saw an untidy sprawl, very difficult to read due to the presence of large blotches on the parchment where the ink had run.
'Dear Harry, Ron, Y/n and Hermione,
Aragog died last night. Harry, Y/n and Ron, you met him and you know how special he was. Hermione, I know you'd have liked him. It would mean a lot to me if you'd nip down for the burial later this evening. I'm planning on doing it round dusk, that was his favorite time of day. I know you're not supposed to be out that late, but you can use the cloak. Wouldn't ask, but I can't face it alone.
Hagrid'
"It's not just that." said Hermione. "He's asking us to leave the castle at night and he knows security's a million times tighter and how much trouble we'd be in if we were caught."
"We've been down to see him by night before." said Harry.
"Yes, but for something like this?" said Hermione. "We've risked a lot to help Hagrid out, but after all...Aragog's dead. If it were a question of saving him..."
"...I'd want to go even less." said Ron firmly. "You didn't meet him, Hermione. Believe me, being dead will have improved him a lot."
Y/n took the note back and stared down at all the inky blotches all over it. Tears had clearly fallen thick and fast upon the parchment...He had made up his mind.
"Y/n, you can't be thinking of going," said Hermione. "It's such a pointless thing to get detention for."
"It is not pointless. Hagrid has lost his oldest friend, someone he has known for over fifty years...He wrote himself that he did not want to be alone. Hagrid has been a great help to me this year in learning to deal with grief. It is time I was there for him in his moment of need." Y/n said.
Hermione and Ron just looked slightly guilty now.
"Harry, leave Hagrid to me. I will say that you three are too upset by the news to come and instead you can use the time to sort out a plan to deal with our Slughorn situation." Y/n told him.
"Potions will be almost empty this afternoon, with us all off doing our tests... why not try and soften Slughorn up a bit then!" Hermione interjected.
"Fifty-seventh time lucky, you think?" said Harry bitterly.
"Lucky." said Ron suddenly. "Harry, that's it...get lucky!"
"What d'you mean?" Harry asked.
"Use your lucky potion!" Ron exclaimed.
"Ron, that's...that's it!" said Hermione, sounding stunned.
"Of course...that would give us a great advantage." Y/n said.
Harry stared at them. "Felix Felicis?" he said. "I dunno...I was sort of saving it..."
"What for?" Y/n asked his brow furrowing.
"What on earth is more important than this memory, Harry?" asked Hermione.
Harry did not answer. The thought of that little golden bottle had hovered on the edges of his imagination for some time, vague and unformulated plans that involved Ginny splitting up with Dean, and Ron somehow being happy to see her with a new boyfriend, had been fermenting in the depths of his brain, unacknowledged except during dreams or the twilight time between sleeping and waking...
"Harry? Are you still with us?" asked Hermione.
"Wha...Yeah, of course." he said, pulling himself together. "Well...okay. If I can't get Slughorn to talk this afternoon, I'll take some Felix and have another go this evening."
"That's decided, then." said Hermione briskly, getting to her feet and performing a graceful pirouette. "Destination...determination...deliberation..." she murmured.
"Oh, stop that." Ron begged her. "I feel sick enough as it is...quick, hide me!"
"It isn't Lavender!" said Hermione impatiently, as another couple of girls appeared in the courtyard and Ron dived behind Y/n.
"Cool." said Ron, peering over Y/n's shoulder to check. "Blimey, they don't look happy, do they?"
"They're the Montgomery sisters and of course they don't look happy, didn't you hear what happened to their little brother?" said Hermione.
"I'm losing track of what's happening to everyone's relatives, to be honest." said Ron.
"What happened?" Y/n asked.
"Well, their brother was attacked by a werewolf. The rumor is that their mother refused to help the Death Eaters. Anyway, the boy was only five and he died in St. Mungo's, they couldn't save him."
Y/n just closed his eyes and grimaced.
"He died?" repeated Harry, shocked. "But surely werewolves don't kill, they just turn you into one of them?"
"They sometimes kill." said Ron, who looked unusually grave now. "I've heard of it happening when the werewolf gets carried away."
"What was the werewolf's name?" said Harry quickly.
"Well, the rumor is that it was that Fenrir Greyback." said Hermione.
"I knew it...the maniac who likes attacking kids, the one Lupin told me about!" said Harry angrily.
"Professor Lupin?" Y/n asked.
"He told me Fenrir is the one who attacked him as kid, made him a werewolf."
Hermione looked at Harry bleakly. "Harry, you've got to get that memory." she said. "It's all about stopping Voldemort, isn't it? These dreadful things that are happening are all down to him..."
The bell rang overhead in the castle and both Hermione and Ron jumped to their feet, looking terrified.
"You will both do fine." Y/n told them, as they headed toward the entrance hall to meet the rest of the people taking their Apparition Test.
"Right..." Ron said looking gloomy.
"Good luck." Y/n said giving Hermione a small kiss for luck.
"Thank you." Hermione said gratefully. "And good luck to you to Harry" she then said with a significant look to him, as Y/n and Harry headed off to the dungeons.
There were only four of them in Potions that afternoon, Harry, Y/n, Ernie, and Draco Malfoy.
"All too young to Apparate just yet?" said Slughorh genially, "Not turned seventeen yet?"
They shook their heads.
"Ah well." said Slughorn cheerily. "As we're so few, we'll do something fun. I want you all to brew me up something amusing!"
"That sounds good, sir." said Ernie sycophantically, rubbing his hands together. Malfoy, on the other hand, did not crack a smile.
"What do you mean, 'something amusing'?" he said irritably.
"Oh, surprise me." said Slughorn airily.
Malfoy opened his copy of Advanced Potion-Making with a sulky expression. It could not have been plainer that he thought this lesson was a waste of time. Undoubtedly, Harry thought, watching him over the top of his own book, Malfoy was begrudging wasting the time he could otherwise be spending in the Room of Requirement.
Y/n looked over at Malfoy who in his eyes, looked thinner, paler, his skin still had that grayish tinge, probably because he so rarely saw daylight these days. But there was no air of smugness, excitement, or superiority, none of the swagger that he once had had...there could be only one conclusion, whatever it was Malfoy was doing, was going badly.
Y/n turned to his cauldron now and waved his wand igniting a fire beneath it. He saw Harry to his side skimming through his copy of Advanced Potion-Making no doubt settling on a heavily corrected Half-Blood Prince's version.
Y/n however decided to put his text book away.
"Not going to use the textbook Grindelwald?" Slughorn called from his desk.
"No sir, I plan to experiment." Y/n answered.
"Very daring I should say, I look forward to your results." Slughorn gave a small smile.
"May I borrow a cauldron sir? To work on a reversal potion at the same time? Y/n asked.
"Daring indeed, to brew two potions at the same time...very well Grindelwald." Slughorn permitted him.
Y/n began to work very hard for the next hour and a half as he separated ingredients, calculated measurements, and deliberated on how many stirs to make, in what direction to stir, and for how long to let his potions simmer.
When Slughorn called for them to stop Y/n was standing in front of two cauldrons, one that was simmering a light green colour and the other a purplish colour.
Slughorn stood in front of Y/n's cauldrons first and looked down. "Very interesting Grindelwald. What properties did you try to achieve?"
"It should be a laughing potion sir." Y/n told him.
"A laughing potion?" Slughorn said curiously.
"You did say to brew something amusing sir." Y/n replied.
Slughorn looked at him for a moment then let out a little laugh. "Taken my words to heart then. Well, let's give it a test shall we?" He said and put a bezoar down on the desk in case it was needed.
Y/n poured a small amount of the green potion into a small glass phial before handing it to Slughorn
"Bottom's up eh?" Slughorn said before drinking the phial's contents.
Everyone watched in silence for a moment before Professor Slughorn broke out into thunderous laughter that echoed off the dungeon walls. Y/n began to pour the purple potion into another phial and handed it to Slughorn who despite being thrown into bouts of laughter was able to take it.
The laughter soon began to subside as Slughorn regained his breath.
"Well done Grindelwald!" Slughorn said wiping a tear from his eye now. "You've successfully created a new potion!" He said with glee. "My dear boy if you were to submit this to the ministry you could be known as one of the youngest potion creators in recent years."
"I shall consider it sir." Y/n humoured him, but in truth he had other plans for it.
"Well, now, this looks absolutely wonderful," said Slughorn clapping his hands together as he stared down into the sunshine yellow contents of Harry's cauldron next. "Euphoria, I take it? And what's that I smell? Mmmm...you've added just a sprig of peppermint, haven't you? Unorthodox, but what a stroke of inspiration, Harry, of course, that would tend to counterbalance the occasional side effects of excessive singing and nose-tweaking...I really don't know where you get these brain waves, my boy...unless..."
Harry pushed the Half-Blood Prince's book deeper into his bag with his foot.
"...it's just your mother's genes coming out in you!"
"Oh...yeah, maybe." said Harry, relieved.
Ernie was looking rather grumpy, determined to outshine Harry for once and taking a page from Y/n's book, he had most rashly invented his own potion, which had curdled and formed a kind of purple dumpling at the bottom of his cauldron. Malfoy was already packing up, sour-faced, Slughorn had pronounced his Hiccuping Solution merely "passable."
The bell rang and both Ernie and Malfoy left at once.
"Sir." Harry began, but Slughorn immediately glanced over his shoulder, when he saw that the room was empty but for himself, Y/n and Harry, he hurried away as fast as he could.
"Professor...Professor, don't you want to taste my po..." called Harry desperately.
But Slughorn had gone.
"You look like you could use a Euphoria potion yourself right now." Y/n said trying to lighten the mood.
"Oh shut up Y/n." Harry said disappointed.
Y/n just wrote down his new creation on a piece of parchment while Harry emptied the cauldron, packed up his things, and together they left the dungeon walking slowly back upstairs to the common room.
It was late afternoon in the afternoon when Ron and Hermione returned.
"Y/n!" cried Hermione as she climbed through the portrait hole. "Y/n, I passed!" She cried delighted.
"Well done!" he said happy for her as he got up and she swung her arms around him.
"And Ron?" Harry asked.
"He...he just failed." whispered Hermione still holding onto Y/n, as Ron came slouching into the room looking most morose. "It was really unlucky, a tiny thing, the examiner just spotted that he'd left half an eyebrow behind...how did it go with Slughorn?"
"Well, the good news is I created a new potion. The bad news is Slughorn is still avoiding Harry like he has Sprattergoit." said Y/n, as Ron joined them.
"Bad luck, mate, but you'll pass next time..." Harry said looking at his friend. "You can take it with me and Y/n."
"Yeah, I s'pose." said Ron grumpily. "But half an eyebrow! Like that matters!"
"I know." said Hermione soothingly, "It does seem really harsh...but Y/n you invented a new potion?" She asked looking up at him.
"Yes, Slughorn gave us a free lesson of sorts and I decided to experiment. Luckily I was successful."
"But Y/n it's incredibly rare for anyone to discover a new potion these days! What you've done many strive for their entire lives!" Hermione said amazed by her boyfriend's achievement. "What kind of potion did you create?"
"It is a laughter potion." Y/n told her. "Slughorn suggested I paten it with the ministry to make some gold and fame but I just sent an owl giving away the recipe."
"Y...You gave it away?" Hermione said shocked.
"To who?" Harry asked curious too.
"Fred and George." Y/n said.
"My Brothers?" Ron asked.
"Indeed, I have no desire for fame nor gold and the potion would be perfect for their shop with it being a laugher potion after all. And since it is a unique potion it would further increase their shop sales." Y/n said reasonably.
"That was a very kind thing to do." Hermione said proudly.
They spent most of their dinner roundly abusing the Apparition examiner, and Ron looked fractionally more cheerful by the time they set off back to the common room, now discussing the continuing problem of Slughorn and the memory.
"So, Harry...you going to use the Felix Felicis or what?" Ron demanded.
"Yeah, I s'pose I'd better." said Harry. "I don't reckon I'll need all of it, not twenty-four hours worth, it can't take all night...I'll just take a mouthful. Two or three hours should do it."
"It's a great feeling when you take it." said Ron reminiscently. "Like you can't do anything wrong."
"What are you talking about?" said Hermione, laughing. "You've never taken any!"
"Yeah, but I thought I had, didn't I?" said Ron, as though explaining the obvious. "Same difference really..."
As they had only just seen Slughorn enter the Great Hall and knew that he liked to take time over meals, they lingered for a while in the common room, the plan being that Harry should go to Slughorn's office once the teacher had had time to get back there. When the sun had sunk to the level of the treetops in the Forbidden Forest, they decided the moment had come, and after checking carefully that Neville, Dean, and Seamus were all in the common room, sneaked up to the boys' dormitory.
Harry took out the rolled-up socks at the bottom of his trunk and extracted the tiny, gleaming bottle.
"Well, here goes." said Harry, and he raised the little bottle and took a carefully measured gulp.
"What does it feel like?" whispered Hermione.
Harry did not answer for a moment. Then, slowly but surely he got to his feet, smiling, brimming with confidence.
"Excellent." he said. "Really excellent. Right...I'm going down to Hagrid's with Y/n."
"What?" said Ron and Hermione both looking aghast. Even Y/n looked to be very confused.
"No, Harry...you've got to go and see Slughorn, remember?" said Hermione.
"No." said Harry confidently. "I'm going to Hagrid's with Y/n, I've got a good feeling about going to Hagrid's."
"You've got a good feeling about burying a giant spider?" asked Ron, looking stunned.
"Yeah." said Harry, pulling his Invisibility Cloak out of his bag. "I feel like it's the place to be tonight, you know what I mean?"
"No." said Ron and Hermione, both looking positively alarmed now.
"This is Felix Felicis, I suppose?" said Hermione anxiously, holding up the bottle to the light. "You haven't got another little bottle full of... I don't know..."
"Essence of Insanity?" suggested Ron, as Harry swung his cloak over his shoulders.
Harry laughed, and Ron and Hermione looked even more alarmed.
"While surprising, it looks like Harry has his mind set." Y/n sighed and Harry moved the cloak around him too now. "I will be with him so it shall be fine. Should Felix fail we can always try again."
"Trust me." Harry said. "I know what I'm doing...or at least..." he strolled confidently to the door with Y/n following beside. "Felix does."
He pulled the Invisibility Cloak over their heads and together he and Y/n set off down the stairs, Ron and Hermione hurrying along behind them.
At the foot of the stairs, Harry and Y/n slid through the open door.
"What were you doing up there with her!" shrieked Lavender Brown, staring right through Harry and Y/n at Ron and Hermione emerging together from the boys' dormitories. Both heard Ron spluttering behind them as they darted across the room away from them.
Getting through the portrait hole was simple, as they approached it, Ginny and Dean came through it, and both were able to slip between them. As they did so, Harry brushed accidentally against Ginny.
"Don't push me, please, Dean." she said, sounding annoyed. "You're always doing that, I can get through perfectly well on my own..."
The portrait swung closed behind Y/n and Harry, but not before they had heard Dean make an angry retort.
"As happy as you are we should move." Y/n said sensing Harry's likely joy.
Together they strode off through the castle. They did not have to creep along, for they met nobody on the way, but this did not surprise Y/n in the slightest. This evening, Harry was the luckiest person at Hogwarts.
The two soon reached the entrance hall where Filch had forgotten to lock the front door. Beaming, Harry threw it open and breathed in the smell of clean air and grass for a moment before walking down the steps into the dusk.
It was when they reached the bottom step that Harry suddenly directed his feet immediately toward the vegetable patch, It was not strictly on the way to Hagrid's Y/n noted but he figured it best to follow Harry right now and soon he was pleased he had, for there was Professor Slughorn in conversation with Professor Sprout. Y/n and Harry lurked behind a low stone wall, listening to their conversation.
"...I do thank you for taking the time, Pomona." Slughorn was saying courteously. "Most authorities agree that they are at their most efficacious if picked at twilight."
"Oh, I quite agree." said Professor Sprout warmly. "That enough for you?"
"Plenty, plenty." said Slughorn, who, Y/n saw, was carrying an armful of leafy plants. "This should allow for a few leaves for each of my third-years, and some to spare if anybody over-stews them...well, good evening to you, and many thanks again!"
Professor Sprout headed off into the gathering darkness in the direction of her greenhouses, and Slughorn directed his steps to the spot where Harry and Y/n stood, invisible.
Before Y/n had a chance to think of what they should do Harry pulled off the cloak with a flourish revealing them.
"Good evening, Professor." Harry said.
"Merlin's beard, Harry, Y/n, you both made me jump." said Slughorn, stopping dead in his tracks and looking wary. "How did you get out of the castle?"
"I think Filch must've forgotten to lock the doors." said Harry cheerfully, and was delighted to see Slughorn scowl.
"I'll be reporting that man, he's more concerned about litter than proper security if you ask me... but why are you out then?"
"Well, sir, it's Hagrid," said Harry. "He's pretty upset...but you won't tell anyone, Professor? I don't want trouble for him..."
Slughorn's curiosity was evidently aroused.
"Well, I can't promise that." he said gruffly. "But I know that Dumbledore trusts Hagrid to the hilt, so I'm sure he can't be up to anything very dreadful..."
"Well, it's this giant spider, he's had it for years...it lived in the forest...it could talk and everything."
"I heard rumors there were Acromantula in the forest." said Slughorn softly, looking over at the mass of black trees. "It's true, then?"
"Yes, we have encountered them before sir." said Y/n.
"But this one, Aragog, the first one Hagrid ever got, it died last night. He's devastated. He wants company while he buries it and we said we'd go." Harry told Slughorn now.
"Touching, touching." said Slughorn absentmindedly, his large droopy eyes fixed upon the distant lights of Hagrid's cabin. "But Acromantula venom is very valuable...if the beast only just died it might not yet have dried out...of course, I wouldn't want to do anything insensitive if Hagrid is upset...but if there was any way to procure some...I mean, it's almost impossible to get venom from an Acromantula while it's alive..."
Slughorn seemed to be talking more to himself than Harry or Y/n now.
"...seems an awful waste not to collect it...might get a hundred Galleons a pint.. to be frank, my salary is not large..."
And now Harry saw clearly what was to be done. "Well." he said, with a most convincing hesitancy. "Well, if you wanted to come, Professor, Hagrid would probably be really pleased... give Aragog a better send-off, you know..."
"Yes, of course." said Slughorn, his eyes now gleaming with enthusiasm. "I tell you what, Harry, Y/n, I'll meet you down there with a bottle or two...we'll drink the poor beast's...well...not health...but we'll send it off in style, anyway, once it's buried. And I'll change my tie, this one is a little exuberant for the occasion."
He bustled back into the castle, and Harry sped off to Hagrid's, delighted with himself as Y/n walked alongside him.
"Has he forgotten what happened the last time he offered us drinks?" Y/n asked Harry.
"Yeh came," croaked Hagrid, when he opened the door and saw Y/n and Harry emerging from the Invisibility Cloak in front of him.
"Hey Hagrid." Harry said.
"Ron and Hermione are sorry but they could not make it." Y/n told Hagrid.
"Don'...don' matter...He'd've bin touched yeh're here, though, Y/n, Harry..."
Hagrid gave a great sob. He had made himself a black armband out of what looked like a rag dipped in boot polish, and his eyes were puffy, red, and swollen. Y/n patted him consolingly on the elbow, which was the highest point of Hagrid he could easily reach.
"You have lost a dear friend Hagrid, I am sorry for your loss."
"Thanks Y/n..." Hagrid sniffled.
"Where are we burying him?" Harry asked. "The forest?"
"Blimey, no." said Hagrid, wiping his streaming eyes on the bottom of his shirt. "The other spiders won' let me anywhere near their webs now Aragog's gone. Turns out it was only on his orders they didn' eat me! Can yeh believe that?"
The honest answer for both Y/n and Harry was 'yes' Y/n recalled with painful ease the scene when he, Harry and Ron had come face-to-face with the Acromantulas. They had been quite clear that Aragog was the only thing that stopped them from eating Hagrid.
"Never bin an area o' the forest I couldn' go before!" said Hagrid, shaking his head. "It wasn' easy, gettin' Aragog's body out o' there, I can tell yeh...they usually eat their dead, see...but I wanted ter give 'im a nice burial...a proper send-off. "
He broke into sobs again and Y/n resumed the patting of his elbow.
"Professor Slughorn met us coming down here, Hagrid." Harry said.
"Not in trouble, are yeh?" said Hagrid, looking up, alarmed. "Yeh shouldn' be outta the castle in the evenin', I know it, it's my fault..."
"No, no, when he heard what we were doing he said he'd like to come and pay his last respects to Aragog too." said Harry. "He's gone to change into something more suitable, I think...and he said he'd bring some bottles so we can drink to Aragog's memory."
"Did he?" said Hagrid, looking both astonished and touched. "Tha's...tha's righ' nice of him, that is, an' not turnin' yehs in either. I've never really had a lot ter do with Horace Slughorn before... comin' ter see old Aragog off, though, eh? Well...he'd've liked that, Aragog would..."
Y/n thought privately that what Aragog would have liked most about Slughorn was the ample amount of edible flesh he provided, but he merely moved to the rear window of Hagrid's hut, where he saw the rather horrible sight of the enormous dead spider lying on its back outside, its legs curled and tangled. "Are we going to bury him here, Hagrid, in your garden?"
"Jus' beyond the pumpkin patch, I thought." said Hagrid in a choked voice. "I've already dug the... yeh know...grave. Jus' thought we'd say a few nice things over him...happy memories, yeh know."
His voice quivered and broke. There was a knock on the door, and he turned to answer it, blowing his nose on his great spotted handkerchief as he did so. Slughorn hurried over the threshold, several bottles in his arms, and wearing a somber black cravat.
"Hagrid." he said, in a deep, grave voice. "So very sorry to hear of your loss."
"Tha's very nice of yeh." said Hagrid. "Thanks a lot. An' thanks fer not givin Harry an Y/n detention neither..."
"Wouldn't have dreamed of it." said Slughorn. "Sad night, sad night...where is the poor creature?"
"Out here." said Hagrid in a shaking voice. "Shall we...shall we do it, then?"
The four of them stepped out into the back garden. The moon was glistening palely through the trees now, and its rays mingled with the light spilling from Hagrid's window to illuminate Aragog's body lying on the edge of a massive pit beside a ten-foot-high mound of freshly dug earth.
"Magnificent." said Slughorn, approaching the spider's head, where eight milky eyes stared blankly at the sky and two huge, curved pincers shone, motionless, in the moonlight.
Y/n thought he heard the tinkle of bottles as Slughorn bent over the pincers, apparently examining the enormous hairy head.
"It's not ev'ryone appreciates how beau'iful they are." said Hagrid to Slughorn's back, tears leaking from the corners of his crinkled eyes. "I didn' know yeh were interested in creatures like Aragog, Horace."
"Interested? My dear Hagrid, I revere them." said Slughorn, stepping back from the body. Y/n saw the glint of a bottle disappear beneath his cloak, though Hagrid, mopping his eyes once more, noticed nothing. "Now...shall we proceed to the burial?"
Hagrid nodded and moved forward. He heaved the gigantic spider into his arms and, with an enormous grunt, rolled it into the dark pit. It hit the bottom with a rather horrible, crunchy thud. Hagrid started to cry again.
"Of course, it's difficult for you, who knew him best." said Slughorn, who like Y/n and Harry could reach no higher than Hagrid's elbow, but patted it all the same. "Why don't I say a few words?"
He must have got a lot of good quality venom from Aragog, Y/n thought, for Slughorn wore a satisfied smirk that annoyed Y/n slightly as he watched Slughorn step up to the rim of the pit and said, in a slow, impressive voice. "Farewell, Aragog, king of arachnids, whose long and faithful friendship those who knew you won't forget! Though your body will decay, your spirit lingers on in the quiet, web-spun places of your forest home. May your many-eyed descendants ever flourish and your human friends find solace for the loss they have sustained."
"Tha wa...tha wa...beau'iful!" howled Hagrid, and he collapsed onto the compost heap, crying harder than ever.
"There, there." said Slughorn, waving his wand so that the huge pile of earth rose up and then fell, with a muffled sort of crash, onto the dead spider, forming a smooth mound. "Lets get inside and have a drink. Get on his other side, Y/n, Harry...that's it...up you come, Hagrid...well done..."
They deposited Hagrid in a chair at the table. Fang, who had been skulking in his basket during the burial, now came padding softly across to them and put his heavy head into Harry's lap as usual. Slughorn uncorked one of the bottles of wine he had brought.
"I have had it all tested for poison." he assured Y/n, pouring most of the first bottle into one of Hagrid's bucket-sized mugs and handing it to Hagrid. "Had a house-elf taste every bottle after what happened to you and your poor friend Rupert."
If it had not been for the desperate urgency that he and Harry obtain the memory for Dumbledore Y/n would have argued about this practice.
"One for Harry...One for Y/n...." said Slughorn, dividing a second bottle between three mugs. "...and one for me. Well..." he raised his mug high. "To Aragog."
"Aragog." said Harry, Y/n and Hagrid together.
Slughorn and Hagrid drank deeply. Harry and Y/n however knew that it would be best not to drink, so merely pretended to take gulps and then set their mugs back on the table before them.
"I had him from an egg, yeh know." said Hagrid morosely. "'Tiny little thing he was when he hatched. 'Bout the size of a Pekingese."
"Sweet." said Slughorn.
"Used ter keep him in a cupboard up at the school until...well..."
Hagrid's face darkened and Y/n knew why, Tom Riddle had contrived to have Hagrid thrown out of school, blamed for opening the Chamber of Secrets. Slughorn, however, did not seem to be listening, he was looking up at the ceiling, from which a number of brass pots hung, and also a long, silky skein of bright white hair.
"That's not unicorn hair, Hagrid?"
"Oh, yeah." said Hagrid indifferently. "Gets pulled out of their tails, they catch it on branches an' stuff in the forest, yeh know..."
"But my dear chap, do you know how much that's worth?"
"I use it fer bindin' on bandages an' stuff if a creature gets in jured." said Hagrid, shrugging. "It's dead useful...very strong."
Slughorn took another deep draught from his mug, his eyes moving carefully around the cabin now, looking, Y/n knew, for more treasures that he might be able to convert into a plentiful supply of oak-matured mead, crystalized pineapple, and velvet smoking jackets. He refilled Hagrid's mug and his own, and questioned him about the creatures that lived in the forest these days and how Hagrid was able to look after them all. Hagrid, becoming expansive under the influence of the drink and Slughorn's flattering interest, stopped mopping his eyes and entered happily into a long explanation of Bowtruckle husbandry.
Harry gave Y/n a little nudge at this point, and Y/n noticed that the supply of drink that Slughorn had brought was running out fast, unnoticed by either Hagrid or Slughorn who were now swapping tales of the illegal trade in dragon eggs Y/n pointed his wand under the table at the emptying bottles and they immediately began to refill.
After an hour or so, Hagrid and Slughorn began making extravagant toasts to Hogwarts, to Dumbledore, to elf-made wine, and to...
"Harry Potter!" bellowed Hagrid, slopping some of his fourteenth bucket of wine down his chin as he drained it.
"Yes, indeed." cried Slughorn a little thickly, "Parry Otter, the Chosen Boy Who...well...something of that sort." he mumbled, and drained his mug too.
Not long after this, Hagrid became tearful again and pressed the whole unicorn tail upon Slughorn, who pocketed it with cries of, "To friendship! To generosity! To ten Galleons a hair!"
Y/n just shook his head at such drunken stupidity.
And for a while after that, Hagrid and Slughorn were sitting side by side, arms around each other, singing a slow sad song about a dying wizard called Odo.
"Aaargh, the good die young." muttered Hagrid, slumping low onto the table, a little cross-eyed, while Slughorn continued to warble the refrain. "Me dad was no age ter go...nor were yer mum' an' dad, Harry..."
Great fat tears oozed out of the corners of Hagrid's crinkled eyes again; he grasped Harry's arm and shook it "Bes' wiz and witchard o' their age I never knew...terrible thing...terrible thing..."
Slughorn sang plaintively.
"And Odo the hero, they bore him back home
To the place that he'd known as a lad,
They laid him to rest with his hat inside out.
And his wand snapped in two, which was sad."
"...terrible." Hagrid grunted, and his great shaggy head rolled sideways onto his arms and he fell asleep, snoring deeply.
"Sorry." said Slughorn with a hiccup. "Can't carry a tune to save my life. "
"Hagrid was not talking about your singing, sir." Y/n told him.
"He was talking about my mum and dad dying." Harry said quietly.
"Oh." said Slughorn, repressing a large belch. "Oh dear. Yes, that was...was terrible indeed. Terrible...terrible..."
He looked quite at a loss for what to say, and resorted to refilling their mugs. "I don't...don't suppose you remember it, Harry?" he asked awkwardly.
"No...well, I was only one when they died." said Harry, his eyes on the flame of the candle flickering in Hagrid's heavy snores. "But I've found out pretty much what happened since. My dad died first. Did you know that?"
"I...I didn't." said Slughorn in a hushed voice.
Y/n remained respectfully quiet.
"Yeah...Voldemort murdered him and then stepped over his body toward my mum." said Harry.
Slughorn gave a great shudder, but he did not seem able to tear his horrified gaze away from Harry's face.
"He told her to get out of the way." said Harry remorselessly. "He told me she needn't have died. He only wanted me. She could have run."
"Oh dear." breathed Slughorn. "She could have...she needn't...that's awful..."
"It is, isn't it?" said Harry, in a voice barely more than a whisper. "But she didn't move. Dad was already dead, but she didn't want me to go too. She tried to plead with Voldemort...but he just laughed..."
"That's enough!" said Slughorn suddenly, raising a shaking hand. "Really, my dear boy, enough... I'm an old man...I don't need to hear...I don't want to hear..."
"I forgot." lied Harry, Felix Felicis leading him on. "You liked her, didn't you?"
"Liked her?" said Slughorn, his eyes brimming with tears once more. "I don't imagine anyone who met her wouldn't have liked her...very brave...very funny...it was the most horrible thing..."
"But you will not help her son?" said Y/n rumbling in his seat. He did not know why he said it but he did. "She gave her life to protect her only son, but you will not give him a single memory?"
Hagrid's rumbling snores filled the cabin. Y/n looked steadily into Slughorn's tear-filled eyes. The Potions master seemed unable to look away. "Don't say that." he whispered. "It isn't a question... if it were to help you, of course...but no purpose can be serve..."
"Of course it can." said Y/n. "Harry and I can already guess that you told Voldemort about Horcruxes when he asked."
Slughorn slightly whimpered at the mention of the word.
"Dumbledore needs information Professor. We need information." Harry leaned forward a little. "I am the Chosen One. I have to kill him. I need that memory." he knew he was safe, Felix was telling him that Slughorn would remember nothing of this in the morning.
Slughorn turned paler than ever, his shiny forehead gleamed with sweat. "You are the Chosen One?"
"Of course I am." said Harry calmly.
"But the...my dear boy...you're asking a great deal...you're asking me, in fact, to aid you in your attempt to destroy..."
"You don't want to get rid of the wizard who killed Lily Evans?" Harry said.
"Harry, Harry, of course I do, but..." Slughorn mumbled.
"You are scared he will find out you helped Harry?" Y/n asked
Slughorn said nothing, he looked terrified.
"Be brave like my mother, Professor..." Harry pleaded slightly.
Slughorn raised a pudgy hand and pressed his shaking fingers to his mouth, he looked for a moment like an enormously overgrown baby.
"I am not proud..." he whispered through his fingers. "I am ashamed of what...of what that memory shows...I think I may have done great damage that day..."
"You are a coward Horace Slughorn." Y/n said rising from his seat now and Slughorn shakily watched him. Harry thought to intervene but Felix told him not to. "You do have reasons to feel ashamed, not for telling Voldemort what you knew...plenty have fallen victim to his charming nature as a boy that Harry and I have seen, but to keep knowledge that could lead to his downfall secret for fifty years...how many lives have been lost because you hid this knowledge from the one person who would understand your guilt, would have been able to use the knowledge to form a plan decades ago to stop him, No you are coward Horace Slughorn and you will be till the day you die should you choose to hold on to that memory. If you wish to honor those who have died, those who have sacrificed their lives to protect those they care about...then give Harry the memory. Do the brave and noble thing otherwise you will spend the rest of your life living in shame."
Hagrid twitched in his sleep and snored on. Slughorn and Y/n stared at each other over the guttering candle. There was a long, long silence, but then, very slowly, Slughorn put his hand in his pocket and pulled out his wand. He put his other hand inside his cloak and took out a small, empty bottle. Still looking into Y/n's eyes, Slughorn touched the tip of his wand to his temple and withdrew it, so that a long, silver thread of memory came away too, clinging to the wand tip. Longer and longer the memory stretched until it broke and swung, silvery bright, from the wand. Slughorn lowered it into the bottle where it coiled, then spread, swirling like gas. He corked the bottle with a trembling hand and then passed it across the table to Harry.
"Thank you very much, Professor." Harry said taking it.
"You're both very good boys." said Professor Slughorn, tears trickling down his fat cheeks into his walrus mustache. "And you've got her eyes Harry...just don't think too badly of me once you've seen it..."
And he too put his head on his arms, gave a deep sigh, and fell asleep.
Harry could feel the Felix Felicis wearing off as he and Y/n crept back into the castle. The front door had remained unlocked for them, but on the third floor they almost met Peeves only narrowly avoiding detection by diving sideways through one of his shortcuts. By the time they got up to the portrait of the Fat Lady and pulled off the Invisibility Cloak, they were not surprised to find her in a most unhelpful mood.
"What sort of time do you call this?"
"I'm really sorry...We had to go out for something important..."Harry said.
"Well, the password changed at midnight, so you'll both just have to sleep in the corridor, won't you?"
"You're joking!" said Harry.
"Why has it changed at midnight?" Y/n asked.
"That's the way it is." said the Fat Lady. "If you're angry, go and take it up with the Headmaster, he's the one who's tightened security."
"Fantastic." said Harry bitterly, looking around at the hard floor. "Really brilliant. Yeah, I would go and take it up with Dumbledore if he was here, because he's the one who wanted me to..."
"He is here." said a voice behind Y/n and Harry. "Professor Dumbledore returned to the school an hour ago."
Nearly Headless Nick was gliding toward Harry and Y/n, his head wobbling as usual upon his ruff.
"Dumbledore has returned?" Y/n said surprised.
"Indeed, I heard it from the Bloody Baron, who saw him arrive." said Nick. "He appeared, according to the Baron, to be in good spirits, though a little tired, of course."
"Where is he?" said Harry, his heart leaping.
"Oh, groaning and clanking up on the Astronomy Tower, it's a favorite pastime of his..."
"Not the Bloody Baron...Dumbledore!" Harry said impaitently.
"Oh...in his office." said Nick. "I believe, from what the Baron said, that he had business to attend to before turning in..."
"Yeah, he has." said Harry excitedly. "Come on Y/n!"
The two wheeled about and sprinted off again, ignoring the Fat Lady who was calling after them. "Come back! All right, I lied! I was annoyed you woke me up! The password's still 'tapeworm'!"
But Harry and Y/n were already hurtling back along the corridor and within minutes, they were saying the password to Dumbledore's gargoyle, which leapt aside, permitting Harry and Y/n entrance onto the spiral staircase.
"Enter." said Dumbledore when Y/n knocked. He sounded exhausted.
Y/n pushed open the door. There was Dumbledore's office, looking the same as ever, but with black, star-strewn skies beyond the windows.
"Good gracious." said Dumbledore in surprise. "To what do I owe this very late pleasure?"
"We have completed the task you set for us." Y/n told him.
Dumbledore just looked at the two of them.
"Sir..." Harry began now. "We've got it. We've got the memory from Slughorn."
Harry pulled out the tiny glass bottle and showed it to Dumbledore. For a moment or two, the Headmaster looked stunned. Then his face split in a wide smile.
"This is spectacular news! Very well done indeed! I knew you both could do it!"
All thought of the lateness of the hour apparently forgotten, he hurried around his desk, took the bottle with Slughorn's memory in his uninjured hand, and strode over to the cabinet where he kept the Pensieve.
"And now." said Dumbledore, placing the stone basin upon the desk and emptying the contents of the bottle into it. "Now, at last, we shall see. Quickly..."
Y/n bowed obediently over the Pensieve and felt his feet leave the office floor...once again he fell through darkness and landed in Horace Slughorn's office many years before.
There was the much younger Slughorn, with his thick, shiny, straw-colored hair and his gingery-blond mustache, sitting again in the comfortable winged armchair in his office, his feet resting upon a velvet pouffe, a small glass of wine in one hand, the other rummaging in a box of crystallized pineapple. And there were the half dozen teenage boys sitting around Slughorn with Tom Riddle in the midst of them, Marvolo's gold-and-black ring gleaming on his finger.
Dumbledore and Harry landed beside Y/n just as Riddle asked. "Sir, is it true that Professor Merrythought is retiring?"
"Tom, Tom, if I knew I couldn't tell you." said Slughorn, wagging his finger reprovingly at Riddle, though winking at the same time. "I must say, I'd like to know where you get your information, boy, more knowledgeable than half the staff, you are."
Riddle smiled, the other boys laughed and cast him admiring looks.
"What with your uncanny ability to know things you shouldn't, and your careful flattery of the people who matter...thank you for the pineapple, by the way, you're quite right, it is my favorite."
Several of the boys tittered again.
"I confidently expect you to rise to Minister of Magic within twenty years. Fifteen, if you keep sending me pineapple, I have excellent contacts at the Ministry."
Tom Riddle merely smiled as the others laughed again. Y/n noticed that he was by no means the eldest of the group of boys, but that they all seemed to look to him as their leader.
"I don't know that politics would suit me, sir." he said when the laughter had died away. "I don't have the right kind of background, for one thing."
A couple of the boys around him smirked at each other. Y/n was sure they were enjoying a private joke, undoubtedly about what they knew, or suspected, regarding their gang leader's famous ancestor.
"Nonsense." said Slughorn briskly. "Couldn't be plainer you come from decent wizarding stock, abilities like yours. No, you'll go far, Tom, I've never been wrong about a student yet."
The small golden clock standing upon Slughorn's desk chimed eleven o'clock behind him and he looked around.
"Good gracious, is it that time already? You'd better get going boys, or we'll all be in trouble. Lestrange, I want your essay in by tomorrow or it's detention. Same goes for you, Avery."
One by one, the boys filed out of the room. Slughorn heaved himself out of his armchair and carried his empty glass over to his desk. A movement behind him made him look around, Riddle was still standing there.
"Look sharp, Tom, you don't want to be caught out of bed out of hours, and you a prefect..."
"Sir, I wanted to ask you something."
"Ask away, then, m'boy, ask away..."
"Sir, I wondered what you know about...about Horcruxes?"
Slughorn stared at him, his thick ringers absentmindedly clawing the stem of his wine glass. "Project for Defense Against the Dark Arts, is it?"
But Y/n could tell that Slughorn knew perfectly well that this was not schoolwork.
"Not exactly, sir." said Riddle. "I came across the term while reading and I didn't fully understand it."
"No...well...you'd be hard-pushed to find a book at Hogwarts that'll give you details on Horcruxes, Tom, that's very Dark stuff, very Dark indeed." said Slughorn.
"But you obviously know all about them, sir? I mean, a wizard like you...sorry, I mean, if you can't tell me, obviously...I just knew if anyone could tell me, you could...so I just thought I'd ask."
It was very well done, thought Y/n, the hesitancy, the casual tone, the careful flattery, none of it overdone. He and Harry had too much experience of trying to wheedle information out of reluctant people not to recognize a master at work. He could tell that Riddle wanted the information very, very much, perhaps had been working toward this moment for weeks.
"Well." said Slughorn, not looking at Riddle, but fiddling with the ribbon on top of his box of crystallized pineapple. "Well, it can't hurt to give you an overview, of course. Just so that you understand the term. A Horcrux is the word used for an object in which a person has concealed part of their soul."
"I don't quite understand how that works, though, sir." said Riddle.
His voice was carefully controlled, but Y/n could sense his excitement.
"Well, you split your soul, you see." said Slughorn. "And hide part of it in an object outside the body. Then, even if one's body is attacked or destroyed, one cannot die, for part of the soul remains earthbound and undamaged. But of course, existence in such a form..."
Slughorn's face crumpled and Y/n found himself remembering words he had heard nearly two years before.
"I was ripped from my body, I was less than spirit, less than the meanest ghost...but still, I was alive."
"...few would want it, Tom, very few. Death would be preferable."
But Riddle's hunger was now apparent, his expression was greedy, he could no longer hide his longing. "How do you split your soul?"
"Well." said Slughorn uncomfortably, "You must understand that the soul is supposed to remain intact and whole. Splitting it is an act of violation, it is against nature."
"But how do you do it?"
"By an act of evil...the supreme act of evil. By commiting murder. Killing rips the soul apart. The wizard intent upon creating a Horcrux would use the damage to his advantage, he would encase the torn portion..."
"Encase? But how..."
"There is a spell, do not ask me, I don't know!" said Slughorn shaking his head like an old elephant bothered by mosquitoes. "Do I look as though I have tried it...do I look like a killer?"
"No, sir, of course not." said Riddle quickly. "I'm sorry...I didn't mean to offend..."
"Not at all, not at all, not offended." said Slughorn gruffly, "It is natural to feel some curiosity about these things...wizards of a certain caliber have always been drawn to that aspect of magic..."
"Yes, sir." said Riddle. "What I don't understand, though...just out of curiosity. I mean, would one Horcrux be much use? Can you only split your soul once? Wouldn't it be better, make you stronger, to have your soul in more pieces, I mean, for instance, isn't seven the most powerfully magical number, wouldn't seven..."
"Merlin's beard, Tom!" yelped Slughorn. "Seven! Isn't it bad enough to think of killing one person? And in any case...bad enough to divide the soul...but to rip it into seven pieces..."
Slughorn looked deeply troubled now, he was gazing at Riddle as though he had never seen him plainly before, and Y/n could tell that he was regretting entering into the conversation at all. "Of course." he muttered. "This is all hypothetical, what we're discussing, isn't it? All academic..."
"Yes, sir, of course." said Riddle quickly.
"But all the same, Tom...keep it quiet, what I've told...that's to say, what we've discussed. People wouldn't like to think we've been chatting about Horcruxes. It's a banned subject at Hogwarts, you know...Dumbledore's particularly fierce about it..."
"I won't say a word, sir." said Riddle, and he left, but not before Harry had glimpsed his face, which was full of that same wild happiness it had worn when he had first found out that he was a wizard, the sort of happiness that did not enhance his handsome features, but made them, somehow, less human...
"Thank you, Harry, Y/n." said Dumbledore quietly. "Let us go..."
When Y/n landed back on the office floor Dumbledore was already sitting down behind his desk. Harry sat too but Y/n stayed standing as both waited for Dumbledore to speak.
"I have been hoping for this piece of evidence for a very long time." said Dumbledore at last. "It confirms the theory on which I have been working, it tells me that I am right, and also how very far there is still to go..."
Harry suddenly noticed that every single one of the old headmasters and headmistresses in the portraits around the walls was awake and listening in on their conversation. A corpulent, red nosed wizard had actually taken out an ear trumpet.
"Well, Harry, Y/n." said Dumbledore, "I am sure you understood the significance of what we just heard. At the same age as you are now, give or take a few months, Tom Riddle was doing all he could to find out how to make himself immortal."
"This memory was not about if Voldemort was using Horcruxes was it sir?" Y/n asked. "It was to find out how many he planned to make."
"An observant observation Grindelwald." Dumbledore nodded impressed.
"You think he succeeded then, sir?" asked Harry. "He made a Horcrux? And that's why he didn't die when he attacked me? He had a Horcrux hidden somewhere? A bit of his soul was safe?"
"A bit...or more," said Dumbledore. "You both heard Voldemort, what he particularly wanted from Horace was an opinion on what would happen to the wizard who created more than one Horcrux, what would happen to the wizard so determined to evade death that he would be prepared to murder many times, rip his soul repeatedly, so as to store it in many, separately concealed Horcruxes. No book would have given him that information. As far as I know...as far, I am sure, as Voldemort knew...no wizard had ever done more than tear his soul in two. "
Dumbledore paused for a moment, marshaling his thought, and then said, "Four years ago, I received what I considered certain proof that Voldemort had split his soul. "
"Where?" asked Harry. "How?"
"You handed it to me, Harry." said Dumbledore. "The diary, Riddle's diary, the one giving instructions on how to reopen the Chamber of Secrets. "
"I don't understand, sir." said Harry.
"Well, although I did not see the Riddle who came out of the diary, what you described to me was a phenomenon I had never witnessed. A mere memory starting to act and think for itself? A mere memory, sapping the life out of the girl into whose hands it had fallen? A memory that could duel a live person? No, something much more sinister had lived inside that book...a fragment of soul, I was almost sure of it. The diary had been a Horcrux. But this raised as many questions as it answered. What intrigued and alarmed me most was that that diary had been intended as a weapon as much as a safeguard."
"I still don't understand." said Harry.
"Well, it worked as a Horcrux is supposed to work...in other words, the fragment of soul concealed inside it was kept safe and had undoubtedly played its part in preventing the death of its owner. But there could be no doubt that Riddle really wanted that diary read, wanted the piece of his soul to inhabit or possess somebody else, so that Slytherin's monster would be unleashed again."
"Well, he did not want his hard work to be wasted." said Y/n. "He wanted people to know he was Slytherin's heir, because he could not take credit at the time."
"Quite correct." said Dumbledore, nodding. "But don't you see, that if he intended the diary to be passed to, or planted on, some future Hogwarts student, he was being remarkably blase about that precious fragment of his soul concealed within it. The point of a Horcrux is, as Professor Slughorn explained, to keep part of the self hidden and safe, not to fling it into somebody else's path and run the risk that they might destroy it...as indeed happened, that particular fragment of soul is no more, you saw to that."
"The careless way in which Voldemort regarded this Horcrux seemed most ominous to me. It suggested that he must have made...or had been planning to make more Horcruxes, so that the loss of his first would not be so detrimental. I did not wish to believe it, but nothing else seemed to make sense. Then you both told me, two years later, that on the night that Voldemort returned to his body, he made a most illuminating and alarming statement to his Death Eaters. 'I who have gone further than anybody along the path that leads to immortality. ' That was what you both told me he said. 'Further than anybody!' And I thought I knew what that meant, though the Death Eaters did not. He was referring to his Horcruxes, Horcruxes in the plural, which I don't believe any other wizard has ever had. Yet it fitted, Lord Voldomort has seemed to grow less human with the passing years, and the transformation he had undergone seemed to me to be only explainable if his soul was mutilated beyond the realms of what we might call usual evil..."
"So he's made himself impossible to kill by murdering other people?" said Harry. "Why couldn't he make a Sorcerer's Stone, or steal one, if he was so interested in immortality?"
"Well, we know that he tried to do just that, five years ago." said Dumbledore. "But there are several reasons why, I think, a Sorcerer's Stone would appeal less than Horcruxes to Lord Voldemort."
"While the Elixir of Life does indeed extend life, it must be drunk regularly, for all eternity, if the drinker is to maintain the immortality. Therefore, Voldemort would be entirely dependant on the Elixir, and if it ran out, or was contaminated, or if the Stone was stolen, he would die just like any other man. Voldemort likes to operate alone, remember. I believe that he would have found the thought of being dependent, even on the Elixir, intolerable. Of course he was prepared to drink it if it would take him out of the horrible part-life to which he was condemned after attacking you, but only to regain a body. Thereafter, I am convinced, he intended to continue to rely on his Horcruxes. He would need nothing more, if only he could regain a human form. He was already immortal, you see...or as close to immortal as any man can be."
"But now, armed with this information, the crucial memory you both have succeeded in procuring for us, we are closer to the secret of finishing Lord Voldemort than anyone has ever been before. You heard him, 'Wouldn't it be better, make you stronger, to have your soul in more piece...isn't seven the most powerfully magical number...' Isn't seven the most powerfully magical number. Yes, I think the idea of a seven-part soul would greatly appeal to Lord Voldemort."
"You believe he made seven Horcruxes then sir?" Y/n asked thinking about how complex this was all becoming.
Harry just sat horror-struck, while several of the portraits on the walls made similar noises of shock and outrage. "But they could be anywhere in the world...hidden...buried or invisible..."
"I am glad to see you appreciate the magnitude of the problem." said Dumbledore calmly. "But firstly, no, not seven Horcruxes, six. The seventh part of his soul, however maimed, resides inside his regenerated body. That was the part of him that lived a spectral existence for so many years during his exile, without that, he has no self at all. That seventh piece of soul will be the last that anybody wishing to kill Voldemort must attack...the piece that lives in his body."
"But the six Horcruxes, then." said Harry, a little desperately. "How are we supposed to find them?"
"You are forgetting...you have already destroyed one of them. And I have destroyed another."
"You have sir?" Y/n asked.
"Yes indeed." said Dumbledore, and he raised his blackened, burned-looking hand. "The ring. Marvolo's ring. And a terrible curse there was upon it too. Had it not been...forgive me the lack of seemly modesty...for my own prodigious skill, and for Professor Snape's timely action when I returned to Hogwarts, desperately injured, I might not have lived to tell the tale. However, a withered hand does not seem an unreasonable exchange for a seventh of Voldemort's soul. The ring is no longer a Horcrux."
"But how did you find it?" Y/n asked.
"Well, as you now know, for many years I have made it my business to discover as much as I can about Voldemort's past life. I have traveled widely, visiting those places he once knew. I stumbled across the ring hidden in the ruin of the Gaunt's house. It seem that once Voldemort had succeeded in sealing a piece of his soul in side it, he did not want to wear it anymore. He hid it, protected by many powerful enchantments, in the shack where his ancestors had once lived after Morfin having been carted off to Azkaban, of course, never guessing that I might one day take the trouble to visit the ruin, or that I might be keeping an eye open for traces of magical concealment."
"However, we should not congratulate ourselves too heartily. You destroyed the diary and I the ring, but if we are right in our theory of a seven-part soul, four Horcruxes remain."
"And they could be anything..." said Y/n grimly.
"They could be oh, in tin cans or, I dunno, empty potion bottles..." Harry said despairingly.
"You are thinking of Portkeys, Harry, which must be ordinary objects, easy to overlook. But would Lord Voldemort use tin cans or old potion bottles to guard his own precious soul? You are forgetting what I have showed you. Lord Voldemort liked to collect trophies, and he preferred objects with a powerful magical history His pride, his belief in his own superiority, his determination to carve for himself a startling place in magical history, these things, suggest to me that Voldemort would have chosen his Horcruxes with some care, favoring objects worthy of the honor."
"The diary wasn't that special." Harry said.
"The diary, as Y/n said, was proof that he was the heir of Slytherin. I am sure that Voldemort considered it of stupendous importance." Dumbledore told him.
"Would it be unwise of me sir, To make a guess that two of these possible Horcruxes could be the locket and cup presented to Voldemort in the memory you showed us both. After all the woman died only a day later and both items were missing were they not?" Y/n asked.
"Yes." said Dumbledore, smiling, "I would be prepared to bet...perhaps not my other hand..but a couple of fingers, that they became Horcruxes three and four. The remaining two, assuming again that he created a total of six, are more of a problem, but I will hazard a guess that, having secured objects from Hufflepuff and Slytherin, he set out to track down objects owned by Gryffindor or Ravenclaw. Four objects from the four founders would, I am sure, have exerted a powerful pull over Voldemort's imagination. I cannot answer for whether he ever managed to find anything of Ravenclaw's. I am confident, however, that the only known relic of Gryffindor remains safe."
Dumbledore pointed his blackened fingers to the wall behind him, where a ruby-encrusted sword reposed within a glass case.
"Do you think that's why he really wanted to come back to Hogwarts, sir?" said Harry. "To try and find something from one of the other founders?"
"My thoughts precisely." said Dumbledore. "But unfortunately, that does not advance us much further, for he was turned away, or so I believe, without the chance to search the school. I am forced to conclude that he never fulfilled his ambition of collecting four founders' objects. He definitely had two...he may have found three...that is the best we can do for now."
"Even if he did manage to find something of Ravenclaw's or one of Gryffindor's, that leaves a sixth Horcrux sir." Y/n said.
"Unless he found both?" Harry added.
"I don't think so." said Dumbledore. "I think I know what the sixth Horcrux is. I wonder what you will say when I confess that I have been curious for a while about the behavior of the snake, Nagini?"
"The snake?" said Harry, startled.
"You can use animals as Horcruxes?" Y/n asked also shocked.
"Well, it is inadvisable to do so." said Dumbledore. "Because to confide a part of your soul to something that can think and move for itself is obviously a very risky business. However, if my calculations are correct, Voldemort was still at least one Horcrux short of his goal of six when he entered your parents' house with the intention of killing you Harry."
"He seems to have reserved the process of making Horcruxes for particularly significant deaths. You would certainly have been that. He believed that in killing you, he was destroying the danger the prophecy had outlined. He believed he was making himself invincible. I am sure that he was intending to make his final Horcrux with your death. As we know, he failed. After an interval of some years, however, he used Nagini to kill an old Muggle man, and it might then have occurred to him to turn her into his last Horcrux. She underlines the Slytherin connection, which enhances Lord Voldemort's mystique, I think he is perhaps as fond of her as he can be of anything, he certainly likes to keep her close, and he seems to have an unusual amount of control over her, even for a Parselmouth."
"So. the diary and ring are destroyed. The cup, the locket, and the snake are still intact, and you think there might be a Horcrux that was once belonged to either Ravenclaw or Gryffindor?" Y/n asked.
"An admirably succinct and accurate summary, yes." said Dumbledore, bowing his head.
"So...are you still looking for them, sir?" Harry asked. "Is that where you've been going when you've been leaving the school?"
"Correct." said Dumbledore. "I have been looking for a very long time. I think...perhaps...I may be close to finding another one. There are hopeful signs."
"And if you do." said Harry quickly. "Can I come with you and help get rid of it?"
Dumbledore looked at Harry very intently for a moment before saying, "Yes, I think so."
"I can?" said Harry, thoroughly taken aback.
"Oh yes." said Dumbledore, smiling slightly. "I think you have earned that right. "
"And what of me sir?" Y/n asked and Dumbledore looked at him.
"I am afraid Grindelwald, that I must ask you to remain behind when such a time should come." Dumbledore said to him.
"I do not understand sir." Y/n said, he was not angry at being told no but he still did not understand either.
"Bringing even Harry with me is a risk Grindelwald, While I cannot ask for your help in this matter for now I suspect you have an important part to play as this plan unfolds." Dumbledore told him.
"I...I see sir." Y/n nodded. 'An important part?' he wondered.
"Does Voldemort know when a Horcrux is destroyed, sir? Can he feel it?" Harry asked, now and Y/n thought this to be a good question.
"A very interesting question, Harry. I believe not. I believe that Voldemort is now so immersed in evil, and these crucial parts of himself have been detached for so long, he does not feel as we do. Perhaps, at the point of death, he might be aware of his loss...but he was not aware, for instance, that the diary had been destroyed until he forced the truth out of Lucius Malfoy. When Voldemort discovered that the diary had been mutilated and robbed of all its powers, I am told that his anger was terrible to behold."
"But I thought he meant Lucius Malfoy to smuggle it into Hogwarts?"
"Yes, he did, years ago, when he was sure he would be able to create more Horcruxes, but still Lucius was supposed to wait for Voldemorts say-so, and he never received it, for Voldemort vanished shortly after giving him the diary. No doubt he thought that Lucius would not dare do anything with the Horcrux other than guard it carefully, but he was counting too much upon Lucius's fear of a master who had been gone for years and whom Lucius believed dead. Of course, Lucius did not know what the diary really was. I understand that Voldemort had told him the diary would cause the Chamber of Secrets to reopen because it was cleverly enchanted. Had Lucius known he held a portion of his master's soul in his hands, he would undoubtedly have treated it with more reverence...but instead he went ahead and carried out the old plan for his own ends. By planting the diary upon Arthur Weasley's daughter, he hoped to discredit Arthur and get rid of a highly incriminating magical object in one stroke. Ah, poor Lucius...what with Voldemort's fury about the fact that he threw away the Horcrux for his own gain, and the fiasco at the Ministry last year, I would not be surprised if he is not secretly glad to be safe in Azkaban at the moment."
Harry sat in thought for a moment, then asked. "So if all of his Horcruxes are destroyed, Voldemort could be killed?"
"Yes, I think so." said Dumbledore. "Without his Horcruxes, Voldemort will be a mortal man with a maimed and diminished soul. Never forget, though, that while his soul may be damaged beyond repair, his brain and his magical powers remain intact. It will take uncommon skill and power to kill a wizard like Voldemort even without his Horcruxes."
"But I haven't got uncommon skill and power." said Harry, before he could stop himself. "Wouldn't Y/n be a better person to take him on sir?"
"No Harry, Y/n will have an opponent of his own to face at such a time I believe...one who seeks to write his name into legend."
"...I will?" Y/n asked surprised.
"On the night Wormtail escaped you told to me Harry that Professor Trelawney had made a prophecy of the events that unfolded the next year." Dumbledore said.
"Yes sir." Harry nodded.
"That was incorrect, Sybil made not one prophecy that night but two." Dumbledore spoke.
"Two?" Y/n and Harry asked.
Dumbledore summoned a bottle now and Harry saw that it was labeled with his name. "But sir that's..."
"Yes, It is the memory I took from you back in your third year. Viewing it allowed me to hear the prophecy that you yourself had." Dumbledore spoke then turned to look at Y/n who was still standing. "'Two sprouts both light and dark, Born from shadows, and flames of blue. Journey of growth to reach the sky. One of legacy embrace, the other of grounds of thorns. The Storm of Challenge shall appear, and two will become one.'"
"I...do not understand sir. Y/n admitted.
"I do not doubt that for it took me quite a while to work it out myself fully." However one of the subjects is most definitely yourself Grindelwald..." Dumbledore told him.
"How can you tell sir?" Y/n said.
"The line of blue flames can only refer to one person I am afraid." Dumbledore said regretfully.
"Gellert." Y/n said and was reminded of the spell he had been advised to learn. Protego Diabollica.
Dumbledore nodded. "Gellert never passed on his discovery of a spell that conjured blue flames to anyone. So they undoubtedly refer to him."
"So I have to kill Gellert then?" Y/n asked.
"Not Gellert, Mr Gridelwald..." Dumbledore said but this only confused Y/n more.
Dumbledore just looked gravely at Y/n who was wondering if not Gellert then who could...
"Two born...but does that...are you...Sir am I...to kill Atticus?" Y/n asked hoping the headmaster would shake his head. He and Atticus had fought for years and he could not hide his disgust for his brother's behavior. But he still loved his brother deep down, he was the only family he had left.
"I am sorry Y/n...but that is what I now believe." Dumbledore said truthfully.
"But why?" Y/n asked dropping any formality.
"Since hearing the prophecy I have kept as close an eye on you and Atticus as I could, When Voldemort returned I told to your grandmother this prophecy and it naturally caused her deep concern. She wished to keep you both away from the wizarding world for a while as she figured out how to proceed. You were sent to stay with Miss Granger while Atticus was to stay with another Muggle family who had been instructed to keep an eye on him, as you know Atticus ran away from that family to contact and join the Malfoy family. Their connections to the Death Eaters deeply concerned Frieda but there was nothing that could be done at that moment. Choosing to pay closer attention to Atticus that year I noticed nothing of note, he like Riddle once was has been good at hiding his intentions. It was only after your grandmother's death that Atticus's dark desires began to show fully."
"But sir Atticus has always been..." Harry began.
"I am aware of Atticus's pure-blooded views and bullying of those he deems impure or traitors. But sadly that is a problem he is not alone in. Many pureblooded students treat others like lessers. But this year Atticus has openly revealed his intentions and views by joining his parents openly."
"Are you saying that Atticus has become... a Death Eater?" Y/n asked.
"I am afraid so. You might remember a newspaper clipping this morning mentioning the deaths of several muggle children at an orphanage." Dumbledore began and Y/n felt his stomach churning awfully. "Atticus, was spotted amongst the Death Eaters present by the Order before he managed to escape." Dumbledore sadly revealed.
Harry's mouth opened and he saw a bucket quickly zoom through the air only to be caught by Y/n who grasped it tightly wand in his hand as he immediately began to violently retch into it.
Dumbledore gave the boy a pure look of sympathy and did not say a word until Y/n placed the bucket down and wordlessly waved his wand vanishing away any trace of vomit.
"I am sorry to break this news to you Mr Grindelwald, for now go to Madam Pomfrey and tell her I have sent you to ask for a calming potion and a draught of dreamless sleep. You will need some rest, But Y/n I will know if you do not arrive at Madam Pomfrey's."
Y/n did not say a word as he silently left the office looking very pale.
Harry and Dumbledore sat in silence for a moment.
"Does Y/n really have to kill Atticus sir?" Harry asked Dumbledore still in shock.
"Yes Harry, for 'Two becomes one.'" Dumbledore said slowly. "Y/n like yourself has had to overcome a great number of challenges over the years. Far too many..." Dumbledore shook his head. "This is Grindelwald's Burden."
"If Y/n really does have to face Atticus sir then I don't really see him struggling sir." Harry said truthfully. "I mean he's always bested Atticus in duels in the past."
"Do not underestimate the love of family Harry. For while I would not admit it in front of him out of worry, I see Y/n as one of the most gifted wizards his age I have ever seen. It almost frightens me how similar in power he is to Voldemort and Gellert at such an age. But he still has much to learn and killing is not something that comes easy to most for it is an immoral thing to do. When the time comes Y/n will need great strength if he is to fulfill this prophecy. Atticus I suspect will also have dramatically improved in skill under personal lessons from his parents. The dark arts are dangerously powerful Harry. Not to be underestimated."