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Revision Date: August 24, 2008

Disclaimer: This piece had become so horrendously long that I was forced to split it some time ago. With the current posting there has been considerable recent addition and expansion made to this section of the study thanks to explorations made in an e-mail discussion a year after the release of DHs.

There has been comparatively little modification or revision to the older portions of the article. Mostly because so much of it turned out to be wrong. At least, wrong if you accept Rowling’s version of the events as the truth. Since Rowling’s version is both self-contradictory and incoherent, I find that I am more inclined to regard it in the light of a suggestion. One which I do not feel either obligated, nor particularly inclined, to take at face value.

****

So. Okay. Once again, it’s time to review and consider what we think we know about the Horcruxes. And to figure out whether we know anything more than we thought we did.

The whole issue of Lord Voldemort’s Horcruxes is an overly complex one, and most of the following conclusions are reflective of what seemed to be possible regarding them as of the end of HBP, so you can expect this pair of companion pieces to wander off on any number of tangents.

In fact, the whole issue related to Horcruxes turns out to be involved enough to have required splitting it into more than one essay even before DHs came out. The essay above; ‘Raiders of the Lost Horcrux’ is now ONLY concerned with R.A.B., the missing Locket, and the adventure of the Dark Lord’s sea cave. This one, and the essay following it concern the rest of the Horcruxes, and theories about Horcruxes in general.

****

Rowling’s handling of the “secret” of Lord Voldemort’s deathlessness seems to have been poorly managed throughout the series.

Very poorly managed, in fact. But at the end of HBP we had reason to believe that we were finally on the right track, Of course we were still missing what we thought could have turned out to be crucial bits of information. In the event, it turns out that even though we probably were, Rowling never chose to pass that information on to us. So the whole business just remains poorly managed.

For, once again, Rowling seems to have rewritten the rules to suit her own convenience. Rendering much of what she had told us in HBP gibberish.

****

First, however, a side-step: my “fellow traveler” the LiveJournalist Swythyv and I have been engaged in an ongoing e-mail discussion/debate pretty much since the release of DHs, and we have covered a lot of very odd ground in that time.

In August of 2008 we finally stumbled into the bog related to Horcruxes.

What set us off this time was another piece of Rowling’s carelessness.

Well, I say that it is a piece of Rowling’s carelessness. Swythyv’s mode of operation is to steadfastly maintain the fiction that Rowling is so much cleverer than her readers that there is likely to be a bombshell still waiting to explode related to the way the Potterverse has been set up, and the way that Rowling chose to misdirect us all in the course of telling her story.

But, regardless.

We had all been given to understand in HBP that the Diary had been quite unique. That claim actually played very well. We had already encountered the Locket by then, and passed it hand to hand to everyone in #12, and not only had Harry had no reaction to it, but neither had anyone else. It was simply an inert artifact, a piece of jewelry which no one could get open. The Ring we didn’t encounter until after it had been denatured. So we never saw it in action.

The Diary, on the other hand, had been designed to be a weapon. It had an interactive interface and was built to reach out and get a grip on whoever wrote in it. First to convince them that it was their friend, to encourage them to confide their closest secrets to it, and ultimately to possess, control and drain them of their “life force” until it managed to restore the soul fragment which it housed to the material plane.

This explanation worked very well. Although you would have thought that Harry’s scar might have had some reaction to it. Or at least to the Diary revenant.

Instead, in a lame and desperate attempt to insert some suspense and excitement into the black (plot) hole of the endless camping trip, in DHs the Locket was suddenly acting like the One Ring and Hermione, the exposition machine, was earnestly informing us in chapter 6 that all Horcruxes will influence you if you get attached to them. Or, apparently, are even around them for any significant amount of time.

This was a stupid, and a shabby enough retrofit in the first place, but Rowling didn’t even bother to incorporate these changes thoroughly enough to take into account the fact that by the time we got it off her, Umbridge had been in possession of that Locket for over a year, and it hadn’t even affected her ability to cast a Patronus. Nor was there the slightest indication that Umbridge was under Locket!Tom’s control. She was just same monumentally unpleasant self she’d always been, with fewer outside limits to constrain her. And the Horcrux certainly hadn’t had anything to do with giving her a promotion.

Besides which, if all Horcruxes acted like that they wouldn’t be very useful for prolonging their creators’ lives would they? Anyone who came into contact with them would know within weeks that something was not right about those artifacts. Ginny figured it out in a couple of months, at the age of 11, for crying out loud. The Trio realized that the Locket was getting them down within a few weeks.

The Diary was designed to be (possibly) expendable, since Tom had other Horcruxes out there. But it you only had one, you would damned well want it to act inert!

Well, we kicked that around the block for a while, between us. And ultimately drifted off in a couple of other directions, but in the course of the discussion I came to a couple of related conclusions of my own.

We have it from Rowling (admittedly it’s only in an interview statement, so she could reverse herself at any time) that she thinks it was Herpo the foul who first came up with the idea of Horcruxes, as well as being the wizard to have created the first Basilisk.

Well, Herpo was a wizard from the days of classical Greece. That may have been a long time ago, but in our own world that was an era which was amply documented. The same cannot necessarily be said for all the eras since then.

This gives us a good long stretch of time since Horcruxes were invented, and we have no idea how many wizards may have created Horcruxes in order to try to fend off death. All we know is that as recently as the 1940s no one was believed to have ever created more than one of them. What isn’t so obvious, because no one has ever come out and said so, is that we haven’t a clue of how many Horcruxes have been created since Herpo’s day. Because the only ones that anyone knows about are the ones which somebody later managed to destroy. And it might be a mistake to suppose that the ones destroyed are the only ones that have ever been made.

We also haven’t any official information on how a Horcrux is made. Frankly, on this subject, I don’t think Rowling has a clue, herself. She imported the concept of Horcruxes from folklore where any number of villains seem to have external hearts/souls/lives and no one has ever bothered to ask how they got them.

And the method used could make a difference.

****

Wizards with the same kind of natural ability to possess others that Tom can claim appear to be vanishingly rare (thank ghod!). And a Horcrux ought not to have abilities that its creator doesn’t. So right there let’s forget about all Horcruxes being able to take over anyone who gets attached to them. There may be other such wizards with such a talent out there, but not many. And they are probably not in western Europe. Asia, maybe. I think there is something of a tradition for possession there. And there is no reason to suppose that they are out there making Horcruxes.

Tom tells us that the only ability he retained while disembodied was the ability to possess others. He overstates his case, for I am sure he was still a Parselmouth. But being a Parselmouth would have scarcely been useful for any purpose apart from catching snakes. Which seems to have been what he used it for. He lured them into range and then possessed them. Tom, it seems, even when reduced to no more than an incomplete, disembodied soul was able to reach out and take possession of other creatures. And in OotP, after he already had a new body to live in, he was still able to reach out and (briefly, and with great pain) take possession of Harry. Ergo: it is a tenable hypothesis to suppose that Tom is able, at least briefly, to be consiously in two bodies at once.

Well, as anyone who has read my Changeling hypothesis essay in the past couple of years is aware, I contend that Tom Riddle’s ability to possess others is a quality which contributed mightily to his ability to create seven Horcruxes (one of them unintentionally).

For I contend that to take possession of the victim is an intrinsic component of the creation of a Horcrux. I flatly do not support the loosey-goosey “kill the victim first and make the Horcrux later” postulation that Rowling appears to support. As I say, I don’t think Rowling ever bothered to work out how one creates a Horcrux. All that mattered to her is that somewhere out there in the Potterverse there needed to be a method of doing it. Upon the whole, I believe we are all better off rolling our own explanation, than waiting around for her to tell us what to think on the subject.

****

Slughorn tells us in HBP that to commit murder tears the soul. I’m sure that he is correct. But what he does not, and probably cannot tell us is that to commit murder will necessarily tear pieces of it off. The soul may rip into the middle from an edge, or along a fold, or off an existing rent (if there is one), or make a hole, or anything at all, leaving perhaps a tattered edge, but not necessarily a damaged soul and a loose fragment suitable for framing. Indeed, if, as he clams, the soul is supposed to remain whole and inviolate, for a piece of a soul to actually get separated from the rest would probably be quite rare. And, indeed, “against nature”.

Consequently, “the spell” that Slughorn refuses to speak about and starts hyperventilating at the very thought of, probably assures that when the soul is torn there will be a clean split and a separate fragment.

And one of the most certain ways of splitting something cleanly is to slice it apart when it is braced between two anchor points.

Yes, killing people will tear your soul, But it does not guarantee that the soul will be torn into individual bits, nor will murder remove any of the bits to an external housing. Your soul, even if it is in bits remains safely inside your body. I also do not accept that there is any way in which you can select a specific fragment of your soul and exorcise it from your own body at some later date. I do not even accept that you can look inside yourself and gauge the condition of your own soul to see whether there are loose bits available for rehousing.

And, the way to get a soul out of a body is to kill the body that it lives in.

You see where I am going here?

If you have possessed the victim, and then kill him, using a spell specifically for that purpose, it splits off the piece of your soul that is in the victim’s body. And since you are still alive, that soul fragment (at that point) tries to get back to the rest of the bundle. You catch it in the artifact you’ve prepared as a housing and presto, there’s your Horcrux. You can add further protections/curses/whatever to the housing later. It’s possible that the spell that kills the victim and splits the soul also makes the fragment visible, at least temporarily.

Now, a wizard who is not naturally able to take possession of a victim has an additional step to perform, since the possession would also need to be accomplished by a spell. I suspect there may be such a spell. It is possibly a variant on Imperius, as the Horcrux creation spell is a variant on AK (at any rate, it is green like an AK).

Which eliminates all the nonsense (which Rowling seems to have chosen to dispense with herself) over Tom wanting to use particularly “significant” deaths to create his Horcruxes. If what you’re dealing with is a proxy suicide, any victim’s death is going to be a “significant” death.

Which is also why the soul fragment in Harry was still in Harry. Tom had possessed him in preparation to making his 6th Horcrux, but that Horcrux never got properly made.

What I propose happened was that (based upon the Dementor-assisted memories given us in PoA) Tom broke into the room, Lily got between him and Harry and pleaded for mercy. Tom took possession of Harry, who started laughing in Tom’s voice. Lily, horrified, glanced back over her shoulder towards him and started screaming. While she was distracted, Tom stepped to one side and threw his Horcurx-creation curse past her. She realized what he was up to at the last moment and threw herself in its path.

What I have extrapolated from this basic premise to explain what happened to Harry was to propose that the spell requires that the caster and the victim share the same soul.

Harry and Tom did share the same soul. Lily and Tom didn’t. And it was Lily who threw herself into the path of the spell.

Yes I know that DHs does not show it happening this way. I don’t believe DHs. DHs and just about everybody in it just is too stupid to be believed.

The spell, hitting someone who did not share the caster’s soul, went blasting back to find its caster. Rather like taking an axe to a heavy plank that turns out not to be anchored at both ends. Being unstable, it flips up and bashes you.

It got Tom, and it got him good. The fact that he already had other Horcruxes and couldn’t be killed may explain why it completely destroyed his body tying to get him out of it. Once it got him out of his own body it then followed the still intact soul connection to the fragment in Harry, and tried to remove it as well. Which is where the scar came from. It shorted out the fragment that had been possessing Harry, but it didn’t get it out of hm. It didn’t even break the connection to the main portion of Tom’s soul. It was trying to perform its function backwards, having started at the wrong end, and by the time it got to Harry had probably overextended itself and was running on empty. Which for Harry's sake is probably just as well.

The fragment was heavily damaged, however. It acts like it has been Obliviated. It doesn’t have any agenda of its own, it has no identity or self-awareness, it barely recognized the name of Tom Riddle, and it never took control of Harry. But that particular fragment was also never actually separated from Tom. It still reacted to him, and either Tom or Harry eventually could activate and use the link. None of the other Horcruxes seem to be at all aware of Tom himself. And he became aware of that one, as he never was aware of the rest of them.

****

The ability to possess others it would make a very big difference to what one can accomplish without a body. Because anyone who creates a Horcrux is eventually going to be in that particular boat.

Because the fact remains that making a Horcrux does not mean that you physically live forever. We have no evidence whatsoever to suggest that it makes you immune to time. Eventually you are still going to lose your body — or it will become so enfeebled that you will be trapped in it. Only anomalies like Tom, who can naturally reach out and possess others get any kind of benefit from creating Horcruxes. Otherwise all a wizard accomplishes by it is something that will diminish his soul in order to tether it on this side of the Veil, and since any wizard has the option of choosing to be a ghost, and can do so with a complete soul, a Horcrux effectively produces absolutely zilch.

And, frankly, being a ghost is the sounder choice, since you are pretty well guaranteed to remain yourself as a ghost, rather than having to fight to retain your identity and stay aware every single moment, without rest, and in ever-present danger of unraveling, as Slughorn describes it, and even Tom later confirms.

It’s small wonder Tom is such a world-class fruitcake. He’s got more than 10 years of sleep deprivation to make up for. Maybe that’s why he was so curiously passive once he finally managed to resurrect himself. Because I’ll swear he did next to nothing for the rest of the series. Perhaps he just gave his followers a few basic instructions and a free pass, and was sleeping it off.

****

And, a Horcrux-creator who cannot take possession of others is a sitting duck for the kind of attrition which ultimately will unravel any sense of identity or self-consciousness.

The whole concept of building Horcruxes, when you really examine it, is a monumental scam from the get-go. I think old Herpo must have been pretty far gone in a Dark Arts-related dementia when he came up with that trick. And I don’t think we need to look very far to figure out just what entities may be hanging around waiting to unravel such defenseless, disembodied, and incomplete souls, do we?

A ghost cannot perform magic, so any such hypothetical chaotic entities just leave them alone. But undead souls still retain that link to the source of their magic. Even incomplete souls channel magic — so long as they remain at least technically alive. In fact they probably leak magic, or magically-charged emotional detritus, even more freely than complete souls do. And we know what kind of entities appear to feed on that. None of them mean humans well.

In most recent version of the ‘History of Magic’ essay I have postulated the existence of “thin places” in the world where magic leaks into the material plane in the form of what in Real World folklore has become codified as a “holy well”. This is fresh, new magic which is emitted as a steady rate, unlike the magic channeled by humans. It’s nature is still chaotic, but it is not conscious and it is certainly not hostile. Magical creatures, whether sentient being, fantastic beast, or magically botanical tend to be drawn to the sites of these wells and to settle in the vicinity.

In the History of Magic essay I also touched upon the chthonic cults which in early times, particularly in the centuries before the development of the cored wand, attempted to duplicate the rare holy wells by creating “pools” of power through unsavory and dangerous practices.

An unraveled soul would also duplicate the function of a well. For it is also an entry point into the physical world of magical energies. The souls that unravel are probably serving as a snackbar for the kind of entities that feed on raw (i.e., Dark) magic. Such unraveled souls probably account for a number of odd anomalous places of “power”. Ones that do not entail “holy wells” or whatever other natural phenomena would account for such an entry point.

Since these false wells were originally human souls, it is possible that the emission of magic from them fluctuates, since humans, without wands, appear to be unable to regulate their channeling of magical energies. But it is unknown whether the impacted quality of human magical channeling is fundamental to the human soul or a by-product of attempting to channel magic through a human body. Humans, as I have pointed out before, are not normally a magical species, and their bodies are not necessarily designed for the effective channeling of magic. It is possible that an unraveled and disembodied soul would create a false well which emitted magic as steadily as a true well. It would not, however be accompanied by the water source which normally accompanies a “holy well”.

We are in a peculiar sort of position since we can do something like a “forensic” examination of early times, up to about the founders era, using our own Real World folklore to fill in gaps and examine the “bones” of what appears to have survived to the present day. But, much later than the Peverills (who Swythyv and I placed somewhere around the beginning of the 13th century) and we might as well be playing “telephone”, because the two worlds’ social histories start diverging wildly. But there do still seem to be a few points in common.

For one thing, I suspect that after Nicholas Flamel and his wife succeeded in creating the Philosopher’s Stone at the end of the 14th century, there may have been far fewer people interested in creating Horcruxes in an attempt to extend their lives. A Horcrux, after all wouldn’t have the additional benefits of making you as rich as you wanted to be, or of producing the universal panacea in addition to the elixir of life. But it would have taken a while before the news of Flamel’s achievement traveled beyond Paris, and longer before people believed the report.

And, of course, no one but the Flamels seem to have managed the feat, either. But most wizards with anything like a functioning moral compass would have made that their project rather than looking for instructions on making Horcruxes.

****

At the end of HBP we all suspected that relevant information had been deliberately saved up for Book 7, or that various details may have just fallen through the cracks.

Particularly where it came to the issue of Regulus Black and the hijacked Locket.

Still, I felt we could all be sure that while we may or we may not have heard the last of Regulus Black, we definitely hadn’t heard the last regarding Tom Riddle.

About whom we have just way too many contradictions to ever really sort out.

For example: at the climax of Goblet of Fire, we observe Voldemort publicly admitting to his mustered Death Eaters that what he has achieved is not true immortality and that he will temporarily settle for having his former body back again. And, indeed, he can hardly be truly immortal if he is still vulnerable to Time. In the same scene he also is publicly reminding the whole assembly that they all know the steps that he has taken to achieve deathlessness.

Excuse me?

Two books later this version of the story has gone completely walkabout. It is now implied that yes, he is immortal, insomuch as any human being can be, and that while we are reminded of his boasts in the graveyard about having pushed the boundaries of Magic farther than any other wizard, the creation of a Horcrux is implied to be something so vile that even the Death Eaters would shrink from it in horror; that Voldemort is convinced that nobody knows about his Horcruxes, and that it certainly cannot be general knowledge that he has made half a dozen of them.

What gives?

And is this even the case? We cannot even know that for certain.

But that version is “The Official Word according to Albus Dumbledore”. And while John Granger’s “Tom Riddle and his Scar-o-Vision” theory would nicely reconcile the issue, I found myself reluctant to adopt it wholesale. That theory plays extremely nicely with others, but it feels like a snare and a delusion. It makes things just a bit too easy. In fact, it constitutes a walking temptation to fall into lazy reasoning. Indeed, it’s too tempting by half.

****

We’d been led to believe that the subject of Horcruxes has only been banned at Hogwarts comparatively recently. Within the last century. And while the creation of them must have always been a very rare occurrence, the knowledge of the underlying theory seems as though it may previously have been reasonably widespread. We do not know this for certain, but I did not think that this was where Rowling intended to drop one of her bombshells.

To begin with: Horace Slughorn is surely the last wizard who would ever be tempted to contemplate the creation of a Horcrux, yet he seems conversant enough with the theory that underlies them. It is possible that it was Albus Dumbledore’s very fierceness on the subject which prompted Horace to research what all the fuss was about, but the fact remains that in his day one could readily look such information up.

And, for all his supposed power, Albus was only able to suppress the information regarding Horcruxes at Hogwarts itself. The information is still out there in any private library which ever had it, and even current books on the Dark Arts may still discuss the subject, so long as they do not care whether they will be able to sell the book as a text to Hogwarts students or to its library.

Indeed, wizards from the generations before Tom Riddle’s may have known about the process fairly routinely. Much as current generations know about the Aveda Kedavra curse.

Which, when taken in concert with the fundamental asymmetry of the reasoning which claims that while to die is far from the worst thing that can happen to you, to kill is the ultimate evil — leaving completely out of the equation the issue of killing in the line of duty (people do keep reminding us that this is supposedly the story of a war, you know) and totally overlooking the fact that the whole point of this series is that we have been set up to expect it to end with the hero killing somebody — to popular acclaim and a victory parade — I ended up feeling very cross at all of the fundamental contradictions and illogic on display. Fortunately we did get a hint that Rowling was aware of this, and that even if she did end up botching the job in the end, she at least intended to address it.

(ETA: Well, I suppose you could say that in the end she did. Even if only to the extent of having events conspire to trick Tom Riddle into killing himself.)

At the time, I thought that she may have already given us the tools to figure most of it out for ourselves. Not all of it, of course. She had to have saved up something critical for the final book.

But we still had a very awkward set of contradictions and cross-purposes to try to reason from. Particularly when we could not know just how much of what was stated openly up to GoF may have been shot off in the off-the-map revision of Rowling’s Master Plan between Volume 4 & 5 which I am convinced took place, out of the public eye.

I supposed that at the very least we needed to assume that the Death Eaters may have been led to believe that they know something about Voldemort’s method of attaining deathlessness. A false impression which is simply not the case. And one that probably has nothing whatsoever to do with the creation of multiple Horcruxes.

****

So, about those Horcruxes:

Upon consideration: I thought that when we finally came to it, there might turn out to be rather less to the problem of hunting the Horcruxes than met the eye. At least at first glance. At second glance, I thought that what we expected to be the easy part, probably wouldn’t be.

For example; I was beginning to suspect that we would not be forced to go out and hunt for all four of them. And that was a good thing, too.

We’d only got one more book in which to wrap this business up. There’s got to be a shortcut in there somewhere. Otherwise this last leg of the trip is going to be in serious danger of starting to feel awfully repetitive and episodic. Plus; having to hunt down four of the things would overbalance the action to the point that the whole last book would end up feeling like constituting nothing but hunting Horcruxes. (ETA: I called that correctly anyway. I would have just as soon not.) And to that point Rowling generally just didn’t give us books that are only about one thing.

But each of her books, so far, had appeared to have a single overriding central issue, as well as at least one related subplot. I couldn’t imagine that she was going to suddenly branch out into a completely different technique with the 7th in a series of 7. (ETA: *sigh* It would have been nice if I had been right about that at least. But I really cannot accept the childhood and youth of Albus Dumbledore as constituting a legitimate subplot. It was even more totally unnecessary and irrelevant to the actual story arc than the identity of the Half-Blood Prince.)

Rowling finally put one of her major cards down on the table when she introduced the concept of the Horcruxes. It is clear to just about every reader that the central issue of Book 7 was going to involve getting those sorted out.

But, let’s face it, a quest for a single critical item is a lot more focused and likely to be interesting than a diffuse scavenger hunt for four of them. At least from the structural standpoint of putting together a satisfactory storyline. Since, let’s face it, that is the task that Rowling was up against.

We’d had one book already that set Harry a number of separate tasks. The first, when successfully completed, led us directly to the starting point for the second; then we got thrown an unexpected extra one before Harry was able to prepare for that 2nd task. We knew about the 3rd task well in advance but apart from hitting the books with Hermione and practicing spells that might come in useful there wasn’t a lot that Harry could really do about it until it was upon him. And at the end of that one he was unexpectedly confronted by his enemy.

Rowling avoided the pitfall of an episodic plot in GoF by keeping the official set “tasks” pretty firmly in the background and filling the foreground with other concerns: the falling out with Ron; the ongoing mystery of who put Harry’s name in the goblet in the first place. She wasn’t really likely to be able to do this so effectively when the task consists of rooting out and disarming four Horcruxes, but there was still room for some leeway.

Nevertheless, given the way the books all seemed to produce echoes of one another, and the way the 5th book reflected the 1st, and the 6th replayed elements from the 2nd, could we help but wonder whether part of the pattern of the 4th would be incorporated into the 7th along with various even more recognizable elements of the 3rd?

I thought that we could probably expect to turn up clues to the Cup, the “mystery” Horcrux, or the 6th Horcrux in the course of the hunt for the Locket. Harry ended the 6th book focused on finding R.A.B. and discovering what happened to the Locket. I figured that that particular hunt would probably serve as the launching point for the quest for all the Horcruxes. Most of us did.

At the end of HBP, we had four Horcruxes unaccounted for. We knew what two of those looked like and had no official news on the others, apart from Albus’s suggestion of the snake.

My own gut feeling — which had absolutely no authority on the matter, as I was well aware — was that Harry already had possession of (was) one of them. I was also now inclined to suspect that Voldemort had possession of another. These two would be brought to the final confrontation and both would be revealed at that time. This would no doubt blindside everybody.

I did not believe that the one in Tom’s custody was the snake.

****

I did not know whether this was the way that Rowling would play it or not, but it had occurred to me that we might get a stronger, more engaging story if she let Harry concentrate on the quest for one of the Horcruxes, and it led us a merry dance nearly all the way through the book.

And the one that seemed best fitted for that particular role really was the Locket. We start out the book with Harry having already decided to follow the trail of the Locket.

I did think that we might be able to expect a protracted search for the Locket. Over the course of which the trio may have thought they had found it, and it will turn out that what they had been following was the trail of one of the others.

Because in the course of this quest, I thought we would probably stumble across a lead on another one of the accursed things (rather than finishing one hunt and starting a new one, which would interrupt the flow of story). The 2nd one would almost certainly be the Cup. Because with the Cup, we, and Harry, were in a position to recognize it when we saw it. And that discovery would make a fine pick-me-up in the middle of a long slog. Because we would probably be no closer to the Locket at that point than we were at the beginning. Or not that we would be able to tell.

Which is why I suspected that we would NOT find the Locket in Kreachur’s nest. You don’t get a lot of scope for turning up clues to the other Horcruxes if you can go directly to the Locket in the boiler room of the Black House, resolve that issue, and find yourself back at square one with no place to go from there. And Harry and his friends were going to look just too thick for belief if Rowling sent the trio all over creation before leading them back to #12 to look for it. I suspected we might be following that Locket for as long as we were following the trail of Nicholas Flamel and the Philosopher’s Stone.

And it finally sank in, thanks to a comment from a correspondent, that there was actually some canon support for this hypothesis. We already had a magical item in our possession which might be perfectly capable of pointing us right to where any Horcrux may be!

So long as it happened to be in a place that the item knew about.

****

The Marauder’s Map will track you — as yourself — living or dead, regardless of whether you are invisible, Polyjuiced or creeping about in your Anamagus form. So, just what is it about you that remains unchanged despite shape, visibility, or apparent species?

Or life status. The Hogwarts ghosts, and Peeves, also show up on it.

Peeves we know is a spirit, but he not really a ghost, for he was never actually alive. But a proper ghost we had already had defined to us as “the imprint of a departed...” what?

Holy hauntings, Batman! It looks very much as if what the Marauder’s Map is actually tracking are souls.

There are still some bugs in this hypothesis, of course. We don’t know what the Map would do regarding soul fragments. They may show up in really teeny-tiny lettering that just looks like a random smudge. They may just show up as initials, or random letters, not a proper name. But they ought to show up.

And there is also the problem of whether or not the Map knows about the place where they are. The Marauder’s Map was a rather impressive piece of work. But it was still just the work of a group of schoolboys. And by that time in the series the reader was able to figure out what some of the magical principles they adapted into it were.

The fact that it reveals or conceals its contents by a password is a no-brainer. Where any mechanical lock can be opened by Alohomora, any intended private space is secured by passwords. It took no flash of genius to decide upon that.

It also seems to include some of the technology from portraits in that there is a lingering imprint of the creators’ personalities which is invoked when someone attempts to view it without giving the proper password. That the personality imprints recognized Snape’s name accounts for the customized insults the Map produced especially for him. Had Colin Creevy attempted it, the insults would have probably been much more generalized.

And then there is that really impressive tracking charm.

We don’t know whether they invented it, or modified it. But I’d vote for the latter. If the MoM can track underaged sorcery, and the Hogwarts quill can record magical births, we can assume that there is likely to be a whole class of tracking magic available for some clever kids to adapt. And they were able to modify the charm so that it only appears to track humans, and specific other creatures (i.e., Mrs Norris). We’ve never had any indication that the Castle’s resident House Elves show up on it.

But they still needed to draw the actual map themselves. And the places that they could not get into (like the other Houses’ common rooms) are shown as blank areas.

Harry’s use of that Map has been pretty rudimentary. He has generally checked it to see whether a route he wanted to use was clear, or to see if anyone was moving around so he could go another way. He hasn’t simply viewed the map to see just who is out in the public areas, or who may be standing somewhere without moving.

Maybe in a presumably empty school, perhaps any name would seem worth a closer look.

But I do still suspect that the Map doesn’t give any indication of the secret places that the Marauders never managed to find.

No Chamber of Secrets, for example. And the fact that Sirius Black was suggesting that the DA use the Shrieking Shack for their meetings implies that although Harry later believes that he couldn’t see into or get into the Room of Requirement was because of Draco’s orders to keep people out, the fact that the Room never showed up at all, could have been due to the fact that the Map may simply just not know about it.

Which laid out a rather creepy potential suspense template for Harry and his friends, sneaking through the closed, and presumably empty school, confident that the Map can show them all of the secret ways, when it doesn’t know all of them.

But Riddle does. Or at least he knows a few different ones.

And both Snape and Pettigrew know about that Map. Although I suspect that neither is volunteering that information to their Master.

Another ugly implication is that if the Map is tracking souls, it probably isn’t tracking bodies.

Riddle could probably march that whole army of Inferi into the Great Hall and the Map wouldn’t even blink.

****

Which leaves us with the question of the final two of the set of Horcruxes.

With a more focused quest, such as is postulated above, for the final two Horcruxes to converge at the finish line would certainly be in keeping with the suggested pattern of two halves of the problem finally coming together in the final book.

Because the kind of stop-start action of hunting and destroying Horcruxes one at a time — and then having to start over on the next one — just didn’t really seem to be on. That would be a really awkward kind of a storyline to try to wrangle and make interesting. No. Just — no.

So I thought that either, one of the Horcruxes would to lead directly to another or the kids would find out that Reggie did manage to neutralize his, or something else ought to be bound to turn up. Between getting hit by the cloudburst of “other shoes” still waiting to fall on us, discovering what was so important about Lily (or that stupid cloak), finding out the significance of the notorious “gleam”, getting ourselves blown up by the last of the Snape bombshells, and having to deal with the big show-down with Voldemort himself, having to also root out and neutralize all four missing Horcruxes, one at a time, was just too many.

But, as well as it fit the requirements, we didn’t know whether Rowling would use this kind of more focused structure until the last book was out.

(ETA: Oh if only, if only. Instead we got the totally clunky and unexplained contrivance of arbitrarily reopening the Tom/Harry mental link in the other direction and having Harry receive what amounted to divine guidance by way of postcards from the universe. Or at least from the prophecy demons’ 2nd cousins all through the book. Feh. I “feh” upon it.)

I did at least confidently expect that Harry and his friends were eventually going to manage to locate and dispose of both of the Horcruxes where Harry knows what he is looking for. Which is to say, the Locket and the Cup.

Plus, of course, eventually figuring out that he was the last of the set.

****

According to Dumbledore, Tom was still one short of his full set when he went to kill Harry.

That’s a clue, you know. When you really stop and think about it, that whole statement is rather odd. In fact it is a clue to a couple of things.

The first is that Dumbledore just wasn’t telling Harry (or us) everything he suspected. Here he has only just finally examined Slughorn’s memory which tells us that there were supposed to be 6 of the accursed things and five minutes later he’s already tallied up how many of them Tom had created by when? C’mon.

I say that Dumbledore had already figured out that there had to be more than one of them, and he knew that it was going to turn out to be a “significant” magical number of them. Dumbledore, unlike Riddle may not have ever studied Divination, but I’ll bet you anything you please that they both studied Arithmancy. That factor alone had probably already narrowed Dumbledore’s theory down to a total of either 3 or 7. I think Albus already suspected it was probably 7, Slughorn’s memory just confirmed it.

I do think that during Riddle’s 10-year absence Albus’s investigation was almost certainly tracing Tom’s actions with regard to stolen property rather than Horcruxes. It was only after Albus got a look at Tom upon his return sometime during ’57–’63 that he would have had reason to start suspecting Horcruxes had been added to the equation.

After all, Albus had personally seen the subject banned at Hogwarts before Tom even showed up to ask about it. Possibly before Tom was even born. And by everything we’ve been given to reason from, Tom managed to create his first one completely off Albus’s radar.

But when he showed up looking like a molten wax image after spending a decade off the map, Albus must have started wondering what he’d been up to, and just what use he might have put those three valuable and historic artifacts he had managed to purloin before he disappeared (by that time Albus would have spoken to Morfin Gaunt and known about the ring). If Albus knew enough about the subject of Horcruxes to get it banned when he wasn’t even Headmaster yet, he probably knows at least as much about them as Tom Riddle. Possibly more.

Which to Albus may have been a hint right there that he was up against a soul in multiple parts. Tom was greedy enough to turn every significant artifact he could get his hands on to his own use. A 3-part soul might have been significant enough to satisfy him. But that would have meant that he had only used two of the stolen artifacts for Horcruxes. And Albus knew Tom well enough to know that he wouldn’t have been able to resist taking “possession” of all three. 4, 5, and 6, are not magically “significant” enough numbers to suit Tom Riddle’s opinion of himself. So he was almost certainly aiming for 7.

The only question was whether he had attained it yet. Once Albus had figured that out, and had given it some hard consideration, by HBP Albus provisionally suspected that at the time of his defeat, Tom had still been at least one short.

(ETA: and Rowling summarily dismissed this whole line of enquiry when she sat down to write DHs, too. For there is no indication in the flashback of Tom’s first defeat that he had shown up at the Potters with the intention of creating a Horcrux at all. Instead the whole passage in HBP has now been trivialized into just another instance of Albus buttering Harry up.)