"Harry, please! Think of the consequences."
"Ginny, the longer we wait, the more likely it is that Hermione is dead and Ron betrayed us." Icy cold anger shot through me the mention of Ron's name.
"Harry, I'm sorry, but you're-"
Before she could finish I pressed her into a kiss, our lips meeting but our eyes never touching. She broke away quickly, though we both clearly wanted more. "Sorry, Harry, but we have to do this. You're not seeing reason! It's suicide if we storm in there now."
"Well, I'm going. You can't stop me." I turn for the door.
"You can't kill him, you know."
"What?" I ask, turning around.
"Voldemort. He can't die. He has more Horcruxes."
"I know! Ginny, I know!"
"I know what they are also."
I turn, intrigued and suspicious. "How? You're not a Dea-"
"Death Eater? No. But I managed some information out of my brother. One cat. You're old cat. Harry, the final Horcrux is a cat."
"Where is the cat?"
"How could I know? I let Ron go after asking, I should've asked where it was... Oh, I'm so stupid..."
"Ginny, there's no point in beating yourself up over this."
"We need a plan. Now, Harry. Now. Can't you see?"
I threw my hands in the air, a look of disgust on my face.
"Harry, how dumb are you? Voldemort- he wants you to come! He knows that you can't kill him, so he wants you to go out and to his castle so he can kill you and the prophecy can finally be fulfilled! Then, he'll get what he wants: to rule!"
Something made what she said cleared my mind. Voldemort has a Horcrux-not me. He's making more, by Ginny's tone. He wants me to come and rescue Hermione, so he can kill me. "I understand Ginny, but-"
Then Voldemort's voice comes in. "Harry. I have your friend, the Mudblood Hermione Granger. You have two warnings, and if you don't show, I kill the girl. This is your first warning. Harry Potter, The Boy Who Lived, come to me." Just before the voice left, I heard Hermione: "Harry, no! Don't worry about me!" And then a shriek of pain.
What was I doing here, sitting like a bump on a log? Hermione was getting tortured! I glance over at Ginny, whose face was ashy-white and solemn. "Don't get any ideas. You're not going!"
"I have to."
"He'll kill you!"
"No he won't." An idea came to me.
"What are you talking about?"
"I need to make a Horcrux."
Three days. That's how long it took to make my first and only Horcrux. I went to a Muggle store and bought a bird named Roscoe. He was small. He had green and yellow feathers, and was very scrawny. Roscoe also had that knowing look in his eyes; he seemed to know what was going to happen to him.
I handed the bird to Ginny, who told me to isolate myself for a full day. And do nothing. She wanted me to spend my last day with a whole soul alone, in meditation.
One day passed. Ginny and I made nervous small talk.
The second evening, we did the spell. She began to whisper the words of the incantation, her wand over my soul.
It hurt. Pain.... the pain.... it was there, exploding in my chest. I retched, I sobbed, the pain like knives being plunged into my heart. Gunshots being fired into my arms and legs.
But then it was over. I was less human. I walked to the mirror to see what I looked like, for Horcruxes make you look different, less human, each time you made one. I looked normal. My eyes were smaller and rounder, my nose more hooked, but I looked normal. Ish.
We put Roscoe in a cage, and then hid in under some Invisibility Spell. The cage was put up as a decoration, so if a Death Eater were to come in and the charm wore off, they'd see it as a wall decor.
We packed lightly and quickly, packing only the essentials: my Cloak, food, water, a change of clothes, and our wands.
The next time Voldemort leaves a message for me, I'll have one for him: be ready.