Chapter 23 - The 8th One III

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Harry escorted Slughorn all the way to his room in the castle before heading towards Dumbledore's office. Finally, he had what he needed the most—a clear answer to how to defeat Voldemort.

"Harry!"

"Ginny?" Harry saw the red-haired Weasley girl rushing towards him, her legs slender, clad in tight jeans, while her top was a black t-shirt with a tight blue cardigan. "I heard what happened."

I hope she won't go crazy like last time. Harry prayed, continuing to walk. He had already gotten intimate with the girl on two occasions. First at the Burrow and then recently when Ron almost caught them. To his eyes, Ginny was a beautiful girl, and he had no aversion to tasting her as well.

But he felt too occupied at the moment. "I'm going to the Headmaster's office."

"Then…" Ginny stopped following him midway as they arrived at the entrance to the Headmaster's office. "I'll wait for you here."

Harry just gave her a nod and headed up to the office. Like always, it was filled with a magical air, books everywhere, the portraits of the previous headmasters moving. Fawkes stayed perched atop its perch as well, while Dumbledore sat in his chair.

"I got it, Professor." Harry raised the test tube. "Professor Slughorn's memory."

"I always knew you could do it, Harry." Dumbledore stood up right away and brought Harry over to the Pensieve. "Prepare yourself—for any intrusion of mind."

He knows? Harry froze for a moment. But I never told him I found a cure… did he see me do Romilda—no, no, no…

He didn't say anything and followed Dumbledore into plunging their faces into the Pensieve. Right away, the memory of Slughorn revealed the young Tom Riddle. By the fireplace, the two spoke with one another.

Harry watched as Tom Riddle steered into the topic of Horcruxes. A bit shaken, Slughorn didn't refuse his best student the right to knowledge and gave away everything. The more Tom asked, the more Slughorn felt uncomfortable, yet he always answered the questions.

"...For instance, isn't seven—?"

"Seven? Merlin's beard, Tom," Slughorn exclaimed, disgusted by the mere thought.

"...Of course, Sir. It'll be our little secret."

Woosh!

Right then, Harry felt his thoughts being forced out of the Pensieve, and the next thing he knew, he was panting, standing straight, and staring at Dumbledore's similarly shocked face.

It makes sense now. Harry had his own thoughts that ate his heart and mind, however. The only reason why he could peer into my mind… control my thoughts.

Dumbledore walked to the nearby stairs and sat down wearily. His eyes blinked with countless thoughts floating through him. "This is beyond anything I imagined."

"So he succeeded?" Harry asked, his own theory slowly gaining traction in his thoughts.

"Oh yes, he succeeded, all right. And not just once," Dumbledore replied.

Harry stepped forward. "What does a Horcrux look like, Professor?"

"Anything—from the most mundane to the most valuable treasure," Dumbledore responded and got up, rushing to his table to open a drawer, taking out some items. "A ring, for example. Or a book."

Harry silently stared at Tom Riddle's diary.

"Years ago, when you brought me this diary, I knew this was a very different kind of magic. Very dark, and very powerful. But until tonight, I had no idea just how powerful," Dumbledore continued speaking.

Harry stared at the ring. "And this?"

"It belonged to Voldemort's mother. Difficult to find. Even more difficult to destroy." Dumbledore revealed his cursed hand. "Now, the only way to destroy Voldemort is to destroy all the remaining of the seven Horcruxes."

"Eight!"

Dumbledore looked straight at Harry's face and eyes, but his gaze was focused on the scar. "What do you mean?"

"Speaking Parseltongue, seeing dreams that actually happen... having my mind invaded by him... I can even glimpse into his thoughts," Harry said. The more he spoke, the more his tongue felt dry. "I'm the eighth one, aren't I?"

Dumbledore froze for a moment, gathering his own thoughts. "A mere conjecture, Harry."

"This curse mark…" Harry looked down, feeling utterly broken. "It takes a murder to create a Horcrux, and that night my Mum died."

"Don't lose the battle with yourself, Harry."

"I must die for Voldemort to die?" Harry asked straightforwardly.

Dumbledore looked down, sighing. He didn't answer, however. He couldn't bring himself to do that. "Fate works in strange ways, Harry. You are the prophesied child, and… you will be victorious. I have my faith in you."

"How does one survive death, Professor?" Harry questioned, slowly accepting his situation. Excited and headstrong some moments ago due to the potion, now he felt hopeless. "If his end leads through my death… how can I survive?"

"That is a mystery we must solve before everything comes to its culmination."

Harry breathed deeply and rubbed his face, his fingers combed through his hair. How he was imagining living without the fear of Voldemort in the future. Now, he was almost sure he wouldn't even be living.

"May I return to my dorm and rest?" Harry suddenly asked.

Dumbledore didn't hold Harry back despite having much to talk about. He reckoned it was better to let the boy gather himself first. "You are not alone, Harry."

Harry nodded and left the headmaster's office. Walking down the spiral staircase, he absentmindedly started walking towards the dorms. His heart was racing, his temples pulsating as his thoughts fell into a whirlpool of uncertainty.

"Harry!"

Harry didn't hear anything and kept walking.

Pat!

"Hey, what happened?" Ginny finally approached him and patted his shoulder, grabbing his attention. "Are you alright?"

Harry stopped and looked back. He raised his face up, taking in his gaze Ginny from her feet to her face. Her flaming red hair was loose around her head, her face a little freckled, and her concerned bright brown eyes shining. "Let's do it."

"What?" Ginny frowned.

"Let's do it," Harry repeated and suddenly grabbed Ginny's hand by the wrist. He started walking right away, leading Ginny to the stairs. He kept on climbing floor after floor, eventually reaching the seventh floor, and finally standing before the wall that held the Room of Requirement.

Ginny was almost certain what Harry meant, and it made her blush. "A-Are you sure?"

"Never been more sure," Harry replied back and summoned the door. Then, he opened the door and walked in—a small, empty room with nothing in there, not even a bed. There was just a bright ceiling light above, below a lone wooden chair with no armrests, and far in the back was a lone, soft mattress right on the floor.

If I'm going to die. Harry turned around and faced Ginny. I'd rather die after experiencing all that there is.

He stepped closer to Ginny in a rushed motion and heavy handedly cupped the softness of her neck. They had just entered the room, so Harry pressed her against the wall, his green eyes matching with hers—both filled with primal lust.

But for Harry, it felt more like hunger. He remembered no concept of romance anymore. No concept of being gentle anymore. He just wanted to taste this girl that had continued to tempt him for so long.

"Um…" Ginny breathed a moan as Harry pressed his body against her, his one knee going between her legs and spreading them, his upper thigh rubbing her covered core.

Harry buried his face towards her neck first. Like a vampire drawing blood, he kissed her pale, soft skin to heat her up. His drool rolling down all the way to her clothes, Harry maintained the appetizer going.

Ginny's breath grew faster, and her hands moved right after. One hand towards Harry's dark hair, while her other hand rubbed all over his chest, even in that tight space between their lustful bodies.

Harry rested both his palms on the side of her waist, very close to her hips. Her lithe form made it much easier for Harry to move her around with brute force. But then he stopped kissing her neck and rose above, and reached for her thin lips.

"I won't be gentle," he warned before claiming her lips.

Ginny stared back at his face, raising both her arms to capture his neck in a hug. "I don't care."

"It will hurt," Harry warned her further, knowing she hadn't yet experienced a boy between her legs.

"I…" Ginny took the initiative and pushed her face forward. "Don't care! Umm…"

Ginny passionately kissed Harry. But both fiercely fought each other for every inch and wetness of their mingling spit. Mouths opened, their heads swaying left and right, and they dug into each other's maws with heated tongues.

Savagely, Harry pressed her harder against the door behind her. Ginny, in response, raised both her legs and clasped them around Harry's waist, her arms still hugging his neck.

Uncaring of her weight, Harry supported her by gripping her ass from below and continuing the slippery hot dance between their sweeping tongues.

Breathless and warming up, Ginny started to remove her clothes, starting with the cardigan and throwing it away. Then, she lifted her t-shirt and removed it as well, resting in Harry's arms still, now just in her bra and jeans.

Harry pinned her by the door and let her hang on his body herself, his hands caressed around the side of her waist, touching her bare hot skin, caressing upwards to her mounds, all the while never leaving her succulent lips.

"Mmm… Harry…" Ginny breathed deeply and broke the kiss. "We can't be gone for too long."

"Don't worry about that," Harry replied and moved, letting Ginny put her feet down.

He claimed her lips again and used his experienced fingers to unbutton her jeans, pull down the zipper, and then lower it all the way to her thighs. From there, Ginny took over and removed her shoes first and then threw her jeans away as well.

Harry stepped back just then and took in her slender form. Ignoring Ginny's embarrassed face, he measured her beauty from her face to her small breasts covered in a black bra, then a hint of curve at the waist, followed by her femininity covered with black panties, a faint damp patch visible at the center of it.

Her skin glowed in the light of that room. Her complexion freckled all over, and to Harry, it looked like tasteful spice sprinkled all over her skin.

I can't go slow. Harry felt a throbbing ache in his manhood. So he quickly removed his shirt first and then his pants, standing in nothing but his underwear.

Ginny stepped closer to him, gulping visibly. She locked eyes with him and moved her hands, pulling the bra strap from her shoulder and taking it off. "I'm… ready,"

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