[*]
The
first thing Harry realized upon waking was that he had absolutely no idea what
to do. There were so many things to do
that he just couldn’t decide where to start.
First, there was the problem of the horcruxes. These were containers of pieces of
Voldemort’s soul and which ensured that even if his physical body was
destroyed, he would still stick around even as something less than a
ghost. Or at least this had been how
Voldemort kept from dying during the other Harry Potter’s life. Was this how he kept from dying this time?
Harry
thought back to the other Harry Potter’s sixth year, when Professor Dumbledore
had been teaching the other Harry how to kill Voldemort. Dumbledore had been absent from school quite
a lot, always searching for clues and memories.
Despite the diary, which held Tom Riddle’s schoolboy memories and soul,
Dumbledore still required proof. Dumbledore
had been fairly sure, even almost certain, but he still wanted proof—not just
to the method, but the number of horcruxes Voldemort had made.
Harry
too wanted that certainty. He was fairly
sure that this time around Voldemort was using horcruxes again. The diary was certainly one. And so was he.
The
method by which a horcrux is created, according to Dumbledore, was through
murder. Murder tore at a soul, weakening
it. Somehow—and Harry never learned the
details—there was a method by which one could tear apart the weakened soul and
affix it to an object or a person. So
long as that object or person existed, then the soul-portion was
protected. So long as the soul-portion
was protected, the person who created the horcrux would not die completely.
But
Voldemort in the other world had made so many pieces of himself that, when he
murdered the other Harry’s mother and then tried to kill other Harry but failed
and was destroyed, in that failure a piece of Voldemort’s soul went into other
Harry and made him into a horcrux. It
was because of this that the other Harry had the lightning-bolt scar.
And
presumably this was true for Harry now.
Harry rubbed at his scar, though it did not prickle or burn as it would
in the presence of Voldemort. He was a
container for a piece of Voldemort’s soul—Harry felt that this was true,
despite not having any real evidence that he could show. It wasn’t as if he could open up his skull
and see a tiny Voldemort waving out at him, probably ranting about
‘mudbloods.’
Harry
distracted himself a bit by imagining reaching into his head and squishing the
tiny Voldemort between his fingers like a flea.
It was quite a satisfying fantasy.
The
second problem had to do with Sirius Black.
The other Harry Potter too had been chased to Hogwarts by Sirius
Black. Sirius Black back then had been a
friend of the other Harry’s father, his best friend, along with Professor Lupin
and a man called Peter Pettigrew. The
other Harry’s father had made Peter Pettigrew the only person who could
magically reveal the location of the entire Potter family, after they had been
magically hidden away. However the world
thought it had been Sirius who had been the Secret-Keeper, the key to the
magical protection around the Potter home.
And so when Voldemort had found the Potter family and killed both of
other Harry’s parents, people thought it had been Sirius who had betrayed them,
not Peter Pettigrew. It didn’t help that
Peter ‘confronted’ Sirius on a street filled with dead muggles, crying foul
betrayal and disappearing in another explosion.
People thought that Sirius killed Peter, leaving behind only a finger,
when in reality he turned himself into a rat and was in hiding in the Weasley
house.
So,
having made absolutely no decision, but knowing what the problems before him
were, Harry got up with the sun and went to breakfast.
The
first thing Harry realized upon waking was that he had absolutely no idea what
to do. There were so many things to do
that he just couldn’t decide where to start.
First, there was the problem of the horcruxes. These were containers of pieces of
Voldemort’s soul and which ensured that even if his physical body was
destroyed, he would still stick around even as something less than a
ghost. Or at least this had been how
Voldemort kept from dying during the other Harry Potter’s life. Was this how he kept from dying this time?
Harry
thought back to the other Harry Potter’s sixth year, when Professor Dumbledore
had been teaching the other Harry how to kill Voldemort. Dumbledore had been absent from school quite
a lot, always searching for clues and memories.
Despite the diary, which held Tom Riddle’s schoolboy memories and soul,
Dumbledore still required proof. Dumbledore
had been fairly sure, even almost certain, but he still wanted proof—not just
to the method, but the number of horcruxes Voldemort had made.
Harry
too wanted that certainty. He was fairly
sure that this time around Voldemort was using horcruxes again. The diary was certainly one. And so was he.
The
method by which a horcrux is created, according to Dumbledore, was through
murder. Murder tore at a soul, weakening
it. Somehow—and Harry never learned the
details—there was a method by which one could tear apart the weakened soul and
affix it to an object or a person. So
long as that object or person existed, then the soul-portion was
protected. So long as the soul-portion
was protected, the person who created the horcrux would not die completely.
But
Voldemort in the other world had made so many pieces of himself that, when he
murdered the other Harry’s mother and then tried to kill other Harry but failed
and was destroyed, in that failure a piece of Voldemort’s soul went into other
Harry and made him into a horcrux. It
was because of this that the other Harry had the lightning-bolt scar.
And
presumably this was true for Harry now.
Harry rubbed at his scar, though it did not prickle or burn as it would
in the presence of Voldemort. He was a
container for a piece of Voldemort’s soul—Harry felt that this was true,
despite not having any real evidence that he could show. It wasn’t as if he could open up his skull
and see a tiny Voldemort waving out at him, probably ranting about
‘mudbloods.’
Harry
distracted himself a bit by imagining reaching into his head and squishing the
tiny Voldemort between his fingers like a flea.
It was quite a satisfying fantasy.
The
second problem had to do with Sirius Black.
The other Harry Potter too had been chased to Hogwarts by Sirius
Black. Sirius Black back then had been a
friend of the other Harry’s father, his best friend, along with Professor Lupin
and a man called Peter Pettigrew. The
other Harry’s father had made Peter Pettigrew the only person who could
magically reveal the location of the entire Potter family, after they had been
magically hidden away. However the world
thought it had been Sirius who had been the Secret-Keeper, the key to the
magical protection around the Potter home.
And so when Voldemort had found the Potter family and killed both of
other Harry’s parents, people thought it had been Sirius who had betrayed them,
not Peter Pettigrew. It didn’t help that
Peter ‘confronted’ Sirius on a street filled with dead muggles, crying foul
betrayal and disappearing in another explosion.
People thought that Sirius killed Peter, leaving behind only a finger,
when in reality he turned himself into a rat and was in hiding in the Weasley
house.
So,
having made absolutely no decision, but knowing what the problems before him
were, Harry got up with the sun and went to breakfast.