Seventh Horcrux

Harry Potter vs. Remus Lupin (Pt. 1)

I was concerned about my Horcruxes. If a Weasley was capable of stealing one of them, then they weren't nearly as safe as I had presumed. My first instinct was to gather up my poor soul pieces and never again let them out of my sight. Unfortunately, after many hours of deliberation, I decided that I couldn't risk hiding five Dark artifacts under my bed, at least not with Dumbledore's keen eyes always upon me. Watching.

Yet, after destroying Diary, I was left with only four Horcruxes, two less than I'd originally intended. For my own peace of mind, I would have to create a new one. Now, I just needed to find someone I wanted to kill.

That shouldn't be too hard. Used to happen all the time.

I skimmed the Prophet, whose title proclaimed the escape of Sirius Black.

"My right hand man, hm. You think I'd remember something like that."

I shrugged. I'd certainly forgotten more important things over the past twelve years. Besides, the Blacks were a Dark family, so of course he was one of mine.

It was a pity to lose him. After all, not every minion could escape from Azkaban. That's the sort of talent that can conquer a nation.

I almost regretted abandoning my previous activities. But not quite.

"Dementors!" I ranted. "What could possibly convince Dumbledore to bring dementors into the school?"

Hermione said, "It's just to keep us safe from Sirius Black, Harry."

"Right, right, of course it is. They're protecting us from an emaciated, wandless convict who mightwant to kill some of us by hiring a hundred Dark creatures that definitely want to eat all of our souls. However did I forget?"

Dementors are terrifying. I might have cut up and scattered my soul, but I assure you, I'm quite attached to it.

I really needed to make that Horcrux. Surely no one would miss a Weasley or two?

"The grim!" Trelawney cried, skeletal hands fluttering around her mouth. "You're in grave danger, Mr. Potter. Very grave danger."

"I'm always in grave danger," I said. It wasn't like I sought out these things, precisely. It's more that getting what I want often involves dangerous situations, and I happen to be immortal.

"You could die," she insisted.

One of the Gryffindor girls, probably Lavender, shrieked.

I snorted. "Not likely."

"I've heard you do this every year," Hermione snapped. "Tell some poor student they're going to die and scare them. But they never do."

"Come to think of it," I mumbled. "Why don't you ever predict the deaths that actually occur? Like the Perks girl."

Hermione sighed. "Harry, Sally-Anne moved."

"Yes, that's what they told us," I said, patting her reassuringly on the arm. "Of course, most of those deaths are First or Second Years, who naturally wouldn't have your class. I imagine you wouldn't even see them except in the Great Hall...Wait, is that why you never come to meals?"

"I..." Trelawney was taken aback at my insight. "Yes, I'm afraid that's true. A prophecy, once spoken, can never be averted you know. And it's such a terrible thing to see those poor, doomed children. Now, back to your teacups, everyone. I can sense your third eyes fluttering shut!"

"We don't have Dark Magic!" Ron yelped.

I suppressed an exasperated sigh. "Ron, all pure-blood families have Dark Magic. If you don't know about yours, it's because your family doesn't trust you."