As we crept back to the castle, I could feel the effects of the potion wearing off, the false confidence and happiness dripping off my mind like mud. But our luck surely ran out when we got to the potrait and the fat lady wasn't in any mood to help.

"What sort of time do you call this?"

I huffed, "Well sorry, we had to go out for something very important."

"Well, the password changed at midnight, so you'll just have to sleep in the corridor, won't you?"

"You're joking!" said Harry. "Why did it have to change at midnight?"

"That's great if there's any parties on about the castle, no wonder Fred and George were hardly seen for most of last year." I said, irritated.

"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 us. "Professor Dumbledore returned to the school an hour ago."

Nearly Headless Nick was gliding toward us, his head wobbling as usual upon his ruff.

"I had 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?" I asked quickly, thinking we could give him the memory and get the password in one go.

"Oh, groaning and clanking up on the Astronomy Tower, it's a favorite pastime of his --"

"Not the Bloody Baron -- Dumbledore!"

"Oh--in his office," said Nick. "I believe, from what the Baron said, that he had business to attend to before turning in --"

Without another word, Harry grabbed onto my forearm and practically dragged me down the corrior before I could say goodbye to Nick. Once past our corridor, Harry grabbed my hand and we hurtled through corridors and up stairs, and breathlessly we arrived at Dumbledore's office.

"Enter," said Dumbledore when Harry knocked. He sounded exhausted.

Harry pushed open the door and the two of us walked in.

"Good gracious, Harry, Aurora" said Dumbledore in surprise. "To what do I owe this very late pleasure?"

"We've got the memory from Slughorn--show him, Harry." I said proudly, and Harry showed him the glass bottle. For a moment Dumbledore was stunned, and then he gave us a huge smile.

"Why Aurora, Harry, 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 and poured into the pensieve. "Now, we shall all see it--Aurora, I believe you've been wishing to be involved for quite a while now."

"Yes, Sir." I nodded. "I feel like me again, the new and improved me. I'm ready to get involved and I want to fight back."

Dumbledore smiled at me, "And so you should. And now we shall see, quickly, quickly...."

Harry and I exchanged an excited, apprehensive smile before walking over to the pensieve and sticking our heads inside. And then we were in Slughorn's office in one of his dinner parties, Slughorn leading the chatter with a dozen boys, looking slimmer with more hair.

And in the midst of them all was Tom Riddle his grandfather's gold-and-black ring gleaming on his finger. 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. Even though I knew he would become an evil murdering psychopath, I had to admit---Riddle sure was attractive.

"-- 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. He coudn't have been the oldest, but everybody seemed to look at him like he was the most powerful in the room.

"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. Harry was sure they were enjoying a private joke, proably about how he was related to Slytherin himself.

"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 by in morrow 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, looking like some creepy from a horror movie.

"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."Project for Defense Against the Dark Arts, is it?"

But you could tell from the tense way Slughorn twisted his ring that he knew it wasn't about 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--"

"Damn, he's manipulative." I muttered to Harry. "I'm surprised Gennie managed to fight him off."

The hesitant tone, the flattery--it all seemed genuine, but carefully planned. I would find it hard to resist him myself.

"Well," said Slughorn, not looking at Riddle, but fiddling with his ring. "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."

How could you hide a part of your soul? But I was about as excited as Riddle to finally hear what a Horcrux was.

"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 ... few would want it, Tom, very few. Death would be preferable."

I felt slightly sick, if Voldemort had created a horcrux.... Well he was unstoppable unless the horcrux was found and dealt with.

"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 --"

So the horcrux had a... vessel of sorts, something to tie it to earth. At least it had a physcial form to find.

"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--?"

"Seven?" I whispered, feeling like I was about to throw up at any moment.

"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 before.

"Of course," he muttered, "this is all hypothetical, what we're discussing, isn't it? All academic..."

"Yes, sir, of course," said Riddle quickly.

And then the memory was over, and we were back in Dumbledore's office. Even though we'd only been in the memory for about five minutes, I felt changed--the ceiling seemed darker, the candles burning lower on the holders.

"I have been hoping for this piece of evidence for a very long time," said Dumbledore at last, gesturing for us to sit. "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..."

"Well, Harry, Aurora," 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."

"He made one, didn't he." I stated. "That's why he didn't die when he attacked us. He had a horcrux somewhere, keeping him alive..."

"A bit... or more," said Dumbledore. "You heard Voldemort, he wanted to know 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."

"Torn in two," I whispered. "Bloody mental."

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, that Genesis Lupin had been possessed by."

"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? No, something much more sinister had lived inside that book. ... a fragment of soul, I was almost sure of it."

"So, the horcrux animated the memory?" I could feel my eyes widen.

"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."

"So he's made himself impossible to kill by murdering other people?" said Harry. "Why couldn't he make a Philosopher's Stone, or steal one, if he was so interested in immortality?"

"You miss two years of school and there's an immortality stone and a giant snake..." I muttered to myself, not even bothering to find out what happened in Harry's first year.

"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. "

"Holy shit, it'd be like Voldemort was a crack addict, but with immortality..." I trailed off when I saw Harry giving me a look that said 'Shut up'. "Sorry..."

'Wouldn't it be better, make you stronger, to have your soul in more piece... isn't seven the most powerfully magical numbe...' Isn't seven the most powerfully magical number. Yes, I think the idea of a seven-part soul would greatly appeal to Lord Voldemort."

"He made seven Horcruxes?" said Harry, horror-struck, and I even I couldn't help but swear under my breath. "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, Harry, 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."

"Six horcruxes?" I felt faint. "Six? Where the bloody hell are we going to find them?"

"You are forgetting... your brother has already destroyed one of them. And I have destroyed another."

"You have?" said Harry eagerly.

"Yes indeed," said Dumbledore, and he raised his blackened, burned-looking hand. "The ring, Harry. Marvolo's ring. And a terrible curse there was upon it too. If it wasn't for Professor Snape's quick actions I may have died that night?"

"But how did you find it?" I asked eagerly, taking 'Horcurx hunting' onto my list of skills I needed to get.

"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 wanted to conceal it, covered in enchantments."

"And they could be anything?" said Harry. "They could be oh, in tin cans or, I dunno, empty potion bottles..."

"Oh Christ, what if he made one to be a penny?" I said aloud, but Harry gave me a look which said I was just being stupid now.

"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?"

"The diary wasn't that special." I pointed out.

"The diary, as you have said yourself, was proof that he was the heir of Slytherin. I am sure that Voldemort considered it of stupendous importance."

"So, the other Horcruxes?" said Harry. "Do you think you know what they are, sir?"

"I can only guess," said Dumbledore. "For the reasons I have already given, I believe that Lord Voldemort would prefer objects that, in themselves, have a certain grandeur."

"The locket!" said Harry loudly, "Hufflepuff's cup!" Assuming this was the information I missed out on when I wasn't allowed to meetings, I just nodded as if I understood.

"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?"

"That filthy snake?" I was taken aback, spluttering, "Animals can be horcruxes? What's next, people as horcruxes."

"It would be ill advised to make a human a horcrux, they have short lives." Dumbledore said quietly. "But it's inadvisable to do so to an animal," 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 both."

I wondered if Voldemort had made a horcrux out of one of my parents death's and felt sick again.

"So... are you still looking for them, sir? Is that where you've been going when you've been leaving the school?" Harry asked

"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?"

"Me too." I inputted. "I've been left behind too many times this year."

Dumbledore looked at us very intently for a moment before saying, "Yes, I think so."

"We can?" said Harry, taken aback.

"Hell yes," I said, relieved. While I knew it was dangerous I knew I wanted to do this, be involved in the death of the thing that had ruined my life and the people around me.

"Oh yes," said Dumbledore, smiling slightly. "I think you have earned that right."

"So if all of his Horcruxes are destroyed, Voldemort could be killed?" I said hopefully.

"Yes, I think so," said Dumbledore. "Without his Horcruxes, Voldemort will be a mortal man with a maimed and diminished soul. It takes uncommon skill and power to defeat him however.

"But I haven't got uncommon skill and power," said Harry.

"Yes, you have," said Dumbledore firmly. "You have a power that Voldemort has never had. You can --"

"I know!" said Harry impatiently. "I can love!" It was only with difficulty that he stopped himself adding, "Big deal!"

"Well with the childhood you had you could have been a bugger who hated everything around him." I said softly. "So could I. We're special in that way. We have each other."

I reached out and grabbed his hand, and even though Harry rolled his eyes he took it.

"So, when the prophecy says that I'll have 'power the Dark Lord knows not,' it just means--love?" asked Harry, looking let down.

"Yes--just love," said Dumbledore. "But Harry, never forget that what the prophecy says is only significant because Voldemort made it so. I told you this at the end of last year. Voldemort singled you out as the person who would be most dangerous to him--and in doing so, he made you the person who would be most dangerous to him!"

"But it comes to the same --"

"No, it doesn't!" said Dumbledore, sounding impatient now. Pointing at Harry with his black, withered hand, he said, "You are setting too much store by the prophecy!"

"But," spluttered Harry, "but you said the prophecy means --"

"If Voldemort had never heard of the prophecy, would it have been fulfilled? Would it have meant anything? Of course not! Do you think every prophecy in the Hall of Prophecy has been fulfilled?"

"But," said Harry, bewildered, "but last year, you said one of us would have to kill the other -- that Rory would have to decide..."

"Harry, Harry, only because Voldemort made a grave error, and acted on Professor Trelawney's words! He unitentionally left you both alive, to be filled with hatred for him. He created his worst enemies--the ones who would rise against him to strike back. He challenges those who threaten him, and that was the both of you!

"But --"

"It is essential that you both understand this!" By attempting to kill you, Voldemort himself singled out the remarkable people who sit here in front of me, and let you see into his thoughts--his ambitions, understand the language of snakes! You have both never shown interest in the dark arts, never for a second has your loyalty wavered--!"

"Of course I haven't!" said Harry indignantly. "He killed my mum and dad!"

"And Voldemort took everything from me--my parents, my adoptive mother, best friend and the boy and I loved. I wouldn't join him for a second."

"You are protected, in short, by your ability to love!" said Dumbledore loudly. "The only protection that can possibly work against the lure of power like Voldemort's! In spite of all the temptation you have endured, all the suffering, you are still whole--and this is something he will never understand."

"But, sir," said Harry, making valiant efforts not to sound argumentative, "it all comes to the same thing, doesn't it? I've got to try and kill him, or --"

"Got to?" said Dumbledore. "Of course you've got to! But not because of the prophecy! Because you, yourself, will never rest until you've tried! We both know it! Imagine, please, just for a moment, that you had never heard that prophecy! How would you feel about Voldemort now? Think!"

"I'd want him finished," said Harry quietly. "And I'd want to do it."

"Of course you would!" cried Dumbledore. "You see, the prophecy does not mean you have to do anything! But the prophecy caused Lord Voldemort to mark you as his equal... In other words, you are free to choose your way, but Voldemort continues to take fate by this prophecy!"

"That one of us is going to end up killing the other," said Harry.

"Yes."

They both went silent, and I couldn't help ask, my voice breaking, "And what about my prophecy?"

Dumbledore turned to me, his expression softer. "Your prophecy, Aurora, is a complex thing. You are said to decide the outcome of the final battle--change what fate thinks is an apt decision. And nobody can say when you'll decide this, or why you would come to a decsion. But it your choice, and of course your state of mind would come into your decision."

"That's why you've kept me away from these meetings, to make sure I'm stable." I came to the conclusion. "You think that if I'm not emotionally stable, I'll choose wrong, just because I used to be in love with Malfoy."

"Are." Harry corrected, and I shot him a glare. "What? It's pretty obvious your moving on plan isn't working out. And as much as I hate him, I know you're going to love him no matter how much he hurts you."

"And don't tell me," I said to Dumbledore, my voice shaking. "You probably think that--that I fell in love with him because of a prophecy, because of a temptation to lead me astray. But I didn't. I fell in love with him because it was my choice, and no matter how much he hurt me, it was the concequence I paid."

"It is your choice, Aurora. Remember this, if nothing else. When it comes down to your final breath, remember you have a choice."

And I nodded. While I was conflicted about all the choices I had made--the bad, anger driven ones; the reckles ones to be happy and in love--I knew something.

When it came down to it, in the end, I would make the choice I wanted--and nobody was going to take that away from me.

Not even Voldemort.

- - - - - - - - - - -- -

A/N Ooh, I liked this chapter it had a lot of symbolism and had Rory actually talking about Malfoy to somebody instead of holding it all in (she had to let it go--sorry).

Thoughts that Harry thinks Rory is still in love with Malfoy? Do you think she is still?

Chapter twenty is next guys, and I'm buzzing to write it, it's going to be bloody amazing. And then.... ALL HELL IS GOING TO REIN LOSE AS THERE'S FIVE/SIX CHAPTERS AFTER IT