– – – – – Rebirth Chapter 06 – – – – –

One week later, using the Hidden Room and calling forth a large, roomy space that was warded against detection of Dark magic, the two of them performed all of the spells necessary for pulling one of the fractured shards of Tom's soul out and anchoring it to the diary.

Tom seemed mad with accomplishment after that. He was convinced that this was his first step towards fully defeating death. It was nearly a month later before Heri finally managed to get Tom to admit to the full extent of his plans regarding his Horcrux.

Heri had felt that this was it. That this one Horcrux was enough, seeing as how from all he'd read on them, that was all anyone had ever even considered doing. One Horcrux.

But no. One wasn't enough for Tom. He was determined to push his magical accomplishments beyond any limits that had stopped anyone else prior. He wanted more than one. One safeguard wasn't enough for him. And if he was going to make more than one, why not more than less? It turned out, that evening Tom had stayed behind the SlugClub meeting, he had asked the professor his opinion on whether or not a person could make more than one Horcrux, and what number would be best.

Seven. That was what Tom had decided upon. Seven was the most magically powerful number, after all, and it was only appropriate that his soul be in seven pieces. That meant six Horcruxes and then the piece that still resided inside his body.

Heri was horrified when Tom finally disclosed the full extent of his plan. Tom was planning to utterly decimate his soul. Heri wasn't sure if it could even be put back together at all, after being so thoroughly shattered as that. Again, he had tried to talk Tom out of it, but it had only brought about more arguments between the two of them. Their relationship remained tense for nearly two whole months, during which Heri become rather deeply depressed. Tom was basically giving him the cold shoulder, and Heri had never felt so alone.

He buried himself in his Necromancy instead and managed to get further than he ever had before. He managed to successfully perform a spell that gave him The Black Sight, which transformed his eyes so that he could now perceive those entities and energies that stemmed directly from the astral plane. Spirits, energy-based beings that had no physical form, yet still existed here among them all but unseen, and the residual signs of Dark magic. It left traces of itself upon everything it touched, and now he could see it.

It was crucial to the work of a necromancer to be able to see Black magic since they had to manipulate it so deeply. Necromancers didn't often rely on wands – it was a magic older than wands – and much of it was done through hand gestures that gave the Necromancer a very tactile control over the powers they wielded.

Heri was beginning to form a very deep understanding of the interaction and the connection between a person's physical body, their magical core, and their soul, or astral body. Not all astral beings possessed magic, or were of the same level of power and intellectual potential. Astral beings could be separated by levels. The lowest level beings were compatible with a certain group of physical beings and they would get reborn again and again into the bodies of these simple creatures.

Muggles and Wizards were not of equal level as far as astral bodies were concerned. While both were human, the wizards carried just the right sort of physical difference that put them a notch above the muggles. Because their bodies were slightly more capable, they drew in the astral bodies that had a magical core attached to them. They were compatible with the magic. Muggles, however, had astral bodies of about the same level, but without any magic.

It appeared that Muggleborns happened when a muggle was born with some sort of mutation or perhaps they were descendants of squibs and had managed to gain a recessive trait that gave them back the capacity to retain magic. Neither of Heri's Necromancy books knew the answer to this question, but both speculated on various reasons for it to happen.

A squib was when a human body with the physical capability to be a wizard was born, but for some odd reason, the soul that ended up tethered to the body was one without a magical core. They were still compatible, so it wasn't that unbelievable for it to happen, it was just rare. And quite unfortunate, honestly.

Heri ached with the desire to tell Tom all of the things he'd learned and come to understand lately. He'd finally managed to achieve the first level of trance and was able to slip far enough along his tether to call to some of the more powerful spirits of the astral plane. Mostly they were spirits of other Necromancers who were between lives. Waiting to be reborn, but powerful enough in the Black arts to maintain awareness while in the astral plane. It was from them that he was learning the most. And many of them were very willing to share their knowledge with a young aspiring Necromancer.

However speaking with spirits was just not the same as speaking with Tom. Heri missed his friend so dearly. He finally came to the conclusion that Tom was too important to him to risk losing him over some stupid disagreement. If Tom was dead set on splitting his soul into seven pieces, all Heri could do was do everything in his power to help him do it, and make sure it worked.

If Tom wanted to be immortal, Heri would make sure it happened.

It was early April when Heri managed to get Tom to come with him to the Hidden Room so they could talk. Tom was cold and gave him hard looks, but Heri pressed on and ended up spilling his guts to the taller boy. By the end, a few tears had even managed to escape his thick black eyelashes in his despair as he begged Tom for forgiveness and promised that he had decided to commit himself to helping Tom and making sure that nothing went wrong. That he wouldn't try to stop Tom from making his Horcruxes, only that he would help make sure achieved his goal of immortality without destroying himself in the process.

Tom's hard face had softened through the rant and in the end he had heaved a sigh and wrapped his arms around his friend's shoulders, holding him as Heri finally broke and began to sob into Tom's shoulder.

"I missed you so much, Tom," Heri said in a muffled voice as he pressed his face into the taller boy's chest.

Tom let his forehead fall and rest on Heri's head. "I missed you too," he whispered as he tightened his arms around Heri's shoulders.

The two held each other for a long time, neither really wanting to let go. Heri had wrapped his arms around Tom's waist, his hands coming up and gripping Tom's robes in his fists, but eventually they relaxed and were simply placed, palm-flat, along Tom's back. The close contact was more than either of them often experienced. No one had ever hugged them aside from each other, and it was a contact that they rarely engaged in. But it was nice. Warm and calming.

Subconsciously Harry's hands began to move up and down, smoothing Tom's shirt beneath his palms and trailing the pads of his fingers along gently. Heri felt Tom shudder slightly and the taller boy's grip around his shouldered tightened for a moment before it slackened. He began to pull back and Heri felt himself fill with a moment of disappointment. He'd known the moment would have to end, but he hadn't wanted it to end so soon. It had been so nice...

Tom slowed having only pulled back and bit and he looked down while Heri looked up. Their eyes connected and it was as if there was a typhoon of uncertainty rolling and storming behind Tom's obsidian orbs. So much expressed in his eyes, while his face remained absolutely blank. Heri blinked up at him, feeling unsure with the strange roller coaster of emotions coursing through him.

He had the most absurd urge to kiss Tom. His eyes kept darting to the taller boy's thin red lips. His perfectly chiseled cheeks. His sharp, angular, jaw. His flawless nose that was only flawless because he had used magic to heal it every time any of the children at the orphanage had broken it. Tom was just so... beautiful. He was horrible and yet perfect. Capable of being charismatic and charming, but also terrible and ingenious. Heri loved every bit there was to Tom. The beauty and the ugly coldness. He knew Tom, utterly, and yet he still loved him. Both despite who he was, and because of it.

And then Tom's head was slowly moving closer and Heri blinked almost in disbelief at what he was seeing. When Tom's lips pressed against his own, he was stunned for a moment. Almost convinced that he were dreaming. But it felt so real. So good. Tom's lips were so soft and they moved against his own smoothly.

The moment of shock broke and Heri began to kiss Tom back. It was chaste and hesitant, which was rare for Tom. And it was gentle. Almost sweet. One of Tom's hands moved from Heri's shoulder up into his hair and he threaded his fingers into Heri's long black mess and used his position there to help turn Heri's head slightly as he cocked his the opposite direction and deepened the kiss.

And then slowly, the two pulled apart, still staring into each other's eyes. Tom's eyes displayed his uncertainty for a moment, while Heri's were mostly filled with surprise and wonder.

"Was that okay?" Tom whispered quietly.

Slowly, a small smile appeared on Heri's face and he ducked his head slightly with embarrassment as he nodded his head. "Yes... I liked that a lot, actually."

Tom's face shifted slightly to relief before his lips curled into a smug grin. "Good, because I intend to do it again."

Heri smirked back and a moment later the two were kissing again.

–

Tom's group of 'friends' unquestioningly accepted Heri back amongst them and he instantly resumed his old position as Tom's closest and most trusted, and all of the respect that position came with.

Tom and Heri kept their shift in relationship secret from the others. They'd learned during their six years in the wizarding world that same-sex relationship were not unheard of, but still not openly spoken of. The muggles tended to pretend such things didn't even exist, and any such relationships were considered unnatural and sinful. The wizards didn't seem to think of it as something evil or disgusting, however, propagating their already thin bloodlines and continuing to grow the wizarding race was important to them – especially the Dark families and the old Pure-blood lines – and being with a member of the same gender would result in no heirs, and as such, seen as counter productive.

If a witch or wizard decided to take on a lover of the same gender after marrying and producing a child with another person of the opposite gender – well, that was fine, as long as the infidelity was approved of by the spouse, and not flaunted in the public eye.

Despite all of the extenuating circumstances and the theoretical potential approval of the wizarding world, Heri and Tom had still been raised in the muggle world. With Catholics. Same-sex relationships were not okay in the world they'd come from. So they kept it secret. It was their private love-life, after all, and no one else's business but their own.

One positive thing could be said though. While they came from the close-minded muggle world, they no longer had any obligation to ever go back. That December for Tom, and January for Harry, they had each turned seventeen.

They were now of age. That spring they each took their apparition tests, and of course, both passed. When the end of June was drawing close, they arranged with the owner of a pub on Knockturn Alley to stay there for a few weeks with the option of staying the whole summer, if they didn't find something better.

In the muggle world, 18 was the age of adulthood, and they could have, technically, returned to the orphanage for that summer... but why would they? They no longer had to, and thus they had no intention of ever setting a foot back in that place ever again. Unless it was to burn the place down.

Heri had decided to hold off on going to Rome to investigate his family heritage until after graduation, so they simply spent the summer in London with one very brief detour where the two of them apparated to the country to the same sea-side area that they had been taken to in their youth many years ago. Tom picked a muggle at random. A young woman who seemed to be out there all alone and managed to secret her away from any of the crowds unnoticed. Heri and Tom took her into the same cave where they had tormented Amy Benson and Dennis Bishop when they were young children.

Tom had wanted to play with the muggle some first. No doubt he would get a thrill out of killing her slowly and listening to her scream, but Heri had insisted it be quick and simple. The woman had done nothing to them, personally. Her only crime was being a muggle – and while Tom seemed to think that was crime enough, Heri managed to win out, and Tom had simply killed her with the killing curse. They transfigured her body into a rock and tossed her out into the sea and then used the large cave to perform the spells necessary to split off another piece of Tom's soul. This time it was anchored to the ring that Tom had stolen from his uncle Morphin.

Tom had then given the ring to Heri, which had honestly surprised him. Tom had said there was no one else he would trust to protect it, and he knew that Heri had been fascinated by the ring ever since Tom had acquired it.

Heri was convinced that it was some sort of necromantic artifact. His Black Sight told him he was right since he could see black tendrils of magic spooling around the stone. Tom had attached his soul to the actual ring, while leaving the stone specifically untouched just in case it really did have some greater purpose that the two of them were unaware of. The protections were applied to the entire thing though, and only Heri and Tom would be able to wear it without being cursed.

Once finished with their task, the two magically cleansed the cave of any evidence and apparated back to London.

They ended up renting a small one room flat above one of the Knockturn Alley shops for the rest of the summer. It was almost strange how sharing a bed had almost instantly felt natural. As if the two had always done it. Their physical relationship reached new limits that summer, and when it came time to return for the seventh and final year at Hogwarts, they were both saddened by the idea of having to sleep in separate beds again, and having to restrict their intimate actives to places they could guarantee privacy like the Hidden Room.

But with the new school year came something that both had honestly been expecting. Tom was made Head Boy.

Heri's playful teasing was about the only thing that kept the taller boy from floating away with the fat head he had. Heri had joked that Tom's head was filled with smugness and if he wasn't careful, he was going to just float away. Tom had swatted at him, but his glare was playful and not truly angry. There was no denying that Tom was proud of his achievement. He had the entire school in his back pocket. Well... except for Dumbledore.

Dumbledore had never stopped suspecting the two of them. He'd kept an eye on them all sixth year, and seventh was no different. They still managed to slip away when they really wanted to though.

The Hidden Room got a lot of use that year.

Tom spent a lot of that year with his political maneuvering and his manipulations of the school populace and the teachers. While he was busy doing things that he needed to do alone, Heri resumed his Necromancy research. He didn't have to always retreat to the Hidden Room for it since a lot of what he was doing now only required he slip into the proper trance and he could even do that in his dorm room.

He was searching for a specific highly acclaimed necromancer that several of the other spirits had told him about, and was having trouble locating the man. He was worried that the spirit might have already been reborn, in which case, Heri wouldn't actually be able to find him. Fortunately, for him at least, it was a tendency with those who had the power to retain their awareness in the astral plane, to spend a great deal of time there between their rebirths.

Heri learned that, while there, in the astral plane and not tethered in any way to the physical plane, these necromancers had access to the memories of every physical life they had ever lived. They remember each and every time they were born, lived, and died, with perfect clarity. However, once reborn and back in the physical world, they lost access to those memories, and with them, all of their knowledge and skills. And even if they managed to become a Necromancer again in their new life, and were able to slip their consciousness back into astral plane, the memories of their astral body would still be blocked from them. Only the dead can remember every life they lived.

At least, that was what each of the spirits Heri had come across insisted. Heri was beginning to suspect otherwise, though.

Another thing that he learned during his communications with the spirits of the astral plane was that he was apparently a very young soul. Several of them suggested that they were quite sure that this was, in fact, his very first life.

Heri had initially asked them if they could tell how old he was because he suspected he may have been a Necromancer in a previous life, however, many of the spirits seemed convinced that was not the case. He was too young and his energy too bright.

It was quite rare for new souls to be 'born'. There were already so many and there was rarely a cosmic demand for new souls that couldn't be filled by those that already existed. But from time to time a new soul would come into existence. Heri wanted to know more. Know how these souls were born, and if it meant that some souls could die, but the spirits he spoke with did not have the answers and he was left with only conjecture, speculation, or simple responses like 'I have no answers for your many questions.'

Heri's available time to continue his research and exploration into his Necromantic powers quickly grew slim as the NEWT exams drew nearer. Heri finally admitted temporary defeat and set his personal studies aside in exchange for focusing on his school work and revising for his exams.

The closer it drew to graduation, the more focus was drawn to the students future career prospects. Everyone was convinced that Tom would go straight to the Ministry, and most likely a surprising high position for someone fresh out of school.

Heri was the only one that knew what Tom actually intended to do. Not that he necessary approved of it. He felt it was truly beneath the other wizard, but the job itself wasn't the point. The point was the objects that the job would give him access to.

Tom intended to go work at the largest shop in Knockturn Alley. Borgin and Burkes – the shop that they had pawned so many Dark objects off to over the years. Tom had decided, during the course of the year, that he wanted his four remaining Horcruxes to be significant, important, artifacts. It was his true desire to have a relic of each of the school's founders, but didn't know if he'd actually manage to find them. He really hoped to someday find the locket that his uncle had told him had once belonged to his mother. The locket of Salazar Slytherin. But both of the admitted that the chances of that happening were slim.

Still, if he hoped to find any at all, working for Borgin was the best shot. While he searched for his future Horcruxes, Heri was going to finally make his trip to Rome and visit his family vault. Once the two of them were done with their separate tasks, they intended to travel to Albania where, Tom hoped to find the diadem of Rowena Ravenclaw. Tom had managed to discover from the Ravenclaw House ghost, the Gray Lady, that she was in actuality Helena Ravenclaw, Rowena's daughter. Helena had apparently stolen her mother's famous diadem and taken it with her when she ran away to hide in the forests of Albania.

Once done with that endeavor, they would begin traveling Europe together. Searching for obscure magic and Dark wizards who could teach them things that they would have never learned at school.

Tom's true hope for a career had actually been to stay at Hogwarts – a fact that only Heri really knew. Tom had even gone to Headmaster Dippet and asked if he could fill the Defense Against the Dark Arts post since Professor Merrythought was retiring that year. However Professor Dippet had turned him down. He had insisted that Tom was still too young for the job and needed to go out and live his life for a while before taking on a teaching position at Hogwarts. Tom had been bitter and angry about the brush off, but had kept his ire to himself.

–

Tom had graduated top of their class, with Heri second behind him. Much to the shock of everyone, Tom started working at the assistant buyer for Borgin one week out of school. They rented another one-room flat, and a week later, Heri was taking the international floo to the mainland, and then a couple floo hops later, he found himself in Rome.

He checked into a hotel and the following morning made his way to the Rome branch of Gringott's for a scheduled visit.

The Valeriusn family vault was mammoth. It was a cavern-sized space filled with gold, books, trinkets, furniture, art, magical portraits put under stasis charms, and a tremendous number of magical artifacts that were radiating Darkness.

Heri found himself standing there, gaping at the vault in shock and awe.

He ended up spending nearly a month in Rome. Every day he would go to visit the bank and spend the day in the vault, cataloging the objects in it, setting aside everything that he intended to take with him, and going through the treasure trove of books.

He and Tom sent letters back and forth every few days, keeping each other up to date on their progress. Tom had seen a lot of very interesting objects, but nothing that he found worthy enough to become the next vessel for a piece of his soul.

During the course of Heri's journey to investigate his family's past it became very obvious to him that his family held a long line of Necromancers. He found nearly a dozen grimoires in the vault and out of all the treasures contained within the bank, he considered those books the most valuable.

By the start of August, Heri returned to England, and to Tom. Both were greatly relieved to be back in each other's company – the last month having been the longest period of time that the two had ever been apart from each other. They celebrated their reunion in bed, and then again each and every night after that.

It was eight months before Tom finally hit the jackpot. An old wealthy witch by the Hepzibah Smith, had quite a few incredibly valuable treasures that she had revealed to Tom, but he had known that she had more that she had been holding out. He'd been wooing her favor for months and finally he managed get her to show him two of her most prized possessions. A cup that had belonged to Helga Hufflepuff, and... a locket.

It was the locket. Salazar Slytherin's locket that had once belonged to Tom's own mother. Hepzibah told a story of Borgin swildling it out of some poor ignorant girl who didn't realize what she had or how much it was worth. And Hepzibah had bought it from Brogin.

Tom had come home that night and informed Heri that they would be leaving England very soon and that he should pack up everything he wanted to keep and be ready to go.

Heri had spent those past months in self study as he poured over the grimoires he'd brought back with him from Rome. As long as he had his books with him, he was ready to leave at a moments notice, so he had no problems with Tom's sudden proclamation.

He had been slowly developing an idea from the things he'd been reading and studying lately. He hadn't yet told Tom of his theories since it was not only untested, but also because he knew his ideas were no where near fleshed out enough to be sure it could even work... he wanted to be sure before he brought it up, so he had kept his research mostly to himself while Tom had continued his search.

That night, Heri and Tom went back to Hepzibah Smith's home. Through the course of their brief visit they managed to seal the locket and the cup, kill the old witch, and Tom even manipulated the memories of the old woman's house elf so that she would remember having accidentally killed her mistress herself.

Despite the confidence that they both had in the layers of precautions they had taken to lay the blame somewhere else, they both left England the very next day.

The next task on their list was Ravenclaw's diadem. Tom now had two founders objects, and had a fairly clear idea on where to find a third, so he was eager to get going. It took them four months of searching to finally locate the diadem, magically hidden inside a tree.

It was during those four months that Heri had finally succeeded in his first proof of theory and finally felt comfortable telling Tom of what he planned to do.

"Tom, I'm ready to tell you what I've been working on." Heri said as he came into the sitting room of the small cottage they'd been renting for the last few months. Tom's head shot up and he eyed Heri with wide eyes. He'd been pestering Heri to tell him about his work for months, but Heri had been insistent that he wasn't willing to go into it until he was sure it would work.

Tom moved the books and scrolls off from beside him on the couch, and onto the low table in front of him. Heri came over and sat down beside Tom, leaning forward with his hands clasped between his knees.

"I know you don't exactly believe in the rebirth cycle of the soul, but I ask that you to suspend your disbelief long enough for me to explain what I'm planning to do."

Tom rose a single eyebrow at Heri, but he gave a curt nod and relaxed back into his side of the couch, giving Heri his full attention.

"It's important to first understand the nature of the astral plane, the physical plane, and how life coexists in both places. We – all of us – really exist in the astral plane. Even right now, you and I both exist in the astral plane. That's where our souls live. A portion of the soul lives inside our physical body, extending our consciousness here to this plane of existence, but even while we are physically alive, our primary soul still resides in the astral plane. Our body is tethered to our soul and it keeps us here, in the physical world, living. Its the same thing that your horcruxes do. As long as there is some portion of your soul tethered to the physical world, the rest of you can remain here as well.

"Normally, when the physical body dies, the tether snaps and our consciousness returns completely to the astral plane. Your horcruxes prevent this action. You already know all this."

Tom nodded his head to acknowledge that he did in fact, already know this.

"Okay, so from my research and from my own ventures into the astral plane to commune with the spirits there I've been able to determine a few things. One, our soul or astral body, or whatever you want to call it – it remembers everything. Every life that a person has ever lived, they can remember with absolute perfect clarity, while they are in the astral plane. However when we are here, in a physical vessel, we no longer have access to any of that knowledge or any of our memories. There is a filter on the tether that connects our primary soul to the bit that resides in our physical body.

"The stories of people who have bits and pieces of memories of their past lives are the result of a defective filter on their astral tether. But the filter tends to mend itself which is why most past life memories occur in children, and fad away by adulthood. They loose access to those memories. They only have access to the physical, imperfect, memories stored chemically in their brain."

Heri paused for a moment. Tom looked interested at the very least, and less skeptical than he usually did when Heri talked about all his 'astral plane' stuff.

"So I started to wonder – if it's possible for this filter to be faulty and allow partial access to the soul's memories, what would happen if the filter was removed entirely? At first, it occurred to me that full access to one's astral memories would mean perfect recall. I could have even better memory than you, Mr. Eidetic-memory," Harry said with a teasing tone, earning him a pair of rolled eyes from Tom.

"But it goes even further than that. If I was able to permanently destroy the filter I would always remember everything. Even after I died and was reborn. I would still retain all of my memories. All of my knowledge." Heri continued, getting excited. "So I summoned the spirits of some of the more powerful necromancer's I've found in the astral plane and asked them for their opinion on my theories. It's been done before! I'm not the first necromancer to think of doing this. And what's more, destroying the filter would mean that I would retain full access to all of my magic as well, no matter how many times I'm reborn. Every new life would simply be a continuation of the last, only in a new body. My own personal brand of immortality."

Tom's face betrayed his surprise for several moment before he his brows knitted together. "This is all assuming that you will, in fact, be reborn. You've said in the past that some of these Necromancers you speak with have been in the astral plane for hundreds of years..."

"That's simply because they choose to exist there. They could trigger their rebirth at any time if they wanted to."

Tom continued to frown and grumbled quietly under his voice. He sighed and ran his hands down his face. "I wish you'd just create a horcrux..."

Heri growled quietly. "No! No, Tom! I refuse to mutilate my soul like that!"

"I haven't mutilated anything!"

"You have, too! But we're not having this discussion again! You've chosen your path, and now I'm choosing mine. If you're going to live forever, I want to live forever with you, but I'm not creating a horcrux."

Heri and Tom's eyes connected and they simply stared, silently, at each other for a long moment. Finally Tom sighed and looked down. "What can I do to help?"

Heri smiled softly and pulled out the small leather-bound booklet he always kept with him for notes and original spells. "It's fairly complicated... but I'm confident I can do it."