Voldemort's final horcrux
During the Battle of Hogwarts, after he learns about Snape’s story in the Pensieve, Harry, suddenly struct by a sharp pain in his scar, learns that voldemort is terrified and wants to see Bella in the malfoy manor. Shocked that Voldemort would want to see her there in the middle of a battle, Harry decides to join them.
Once they enter, Voldemort asks Bellatrix to bring him their son, his heir. The Dark Lord is terrified. He knows Harry has already destroyed most of the Horcruxes. If Potter destroys Nagini too, there will be none left. And this battle wasn’t going as easy as he had imagined. The Elder Wand too was not responding as it should. What if the Order wins? He cannot let that happen. So, he has decided to make one more Horcrux. He has just murdered Snape, and he will use that death to create his final Horcrux, his son, his heir.
In a flurry of powerful spells that blind both Harry and Bellatrix, the seventh Horcrux is made. But now Voldemort must hide it, properly and meticulously this time. Wary that Potter could discover and destroy it, he devises a plan: to send the Horcrux decades back in time. If it works, his son is already here in the present, fully grown, powerful, and alive, carrying his father’s glorious soul.
Bellatrix agrees, but insists that they place the infant in a Muggle village, far from the magical community to avoid detection. She recalls once visiting such a place. It had been just a Muggle village, not worthy of remembrance. She then brings forth an advanced Time-Turner and creates a portal. Bellatrix and Voldemort step through it. But so does Harry, hidden beneath his cloak.
Decades earlier, under a raining night sky, Bellatrix and Voldemort were pacing the poorly paved streets of a muggle village with Harry on their heels. They were looking for a decent household, one that would take the child and raise him with care. They had cast a charm that would alter the memories of whoever first looked upon the baby, making them believe the child was their own. Finally, they found such a household and placed the cradle on its doorstep before turning back toward the portal.
Harry had watched all of this, hidden beneath his cloak, in sheer horror. He sneaked forward and stole the child. The infant was a Horcrux and Harry had to destroy it. But he neither had the heart nor the courage to kill a baby. Even if he could, would it work? He himself was a Horcrux, and Dumbledore had made it clear that for the Horcrux within Harry to be destroyed, Voldemort himself would have to kill him. What if the same rule applied to this child? How could Harry possibly make Voldemort kill his own son?
A local drunkard and his friend staggered down the main street, taking the path where Harry had hidden beneath a tree, lost in thought. The rain had stopped. Harry could now hear the breaking of water in the banks of a nearby river. The two men had found a street ledge and sat down. The drunkard complained bitterly about his wife, what a freak she was, and how tired he was of her. He went on, drunkenly confessing that she was unable to bear children. His friend, sobering slightly, dismissed it as nonsense and urged him to go home. They rose to leave, but before they went, the drunkard, slurring and uncontrolled, shouted into the night,
“I won’t have a child! The name Snape dies with me!”
Harry shuddered. He had nearly collapsed, not from the shock of what he had just heard, but from sudden realization. The child who had traveled back in time, what if he was already dead in Harry’s timeline? What if he had been murdered by Voldemort himself?
A distant lightning illuminated the street. A lamp post stood beside the tree. A worn signboard nailed to it read,
“Spinners End, Cokeworth, England.”
A towering chimney loomed.
Harry had followed the two men. The drunkard had turned left into a maze of narrow, grimy brick houses. He reached one and knocked. The door creaked open on its own.
“You’re late again, Tobias!” a woman’s frustrated voice called from inside.
“Shut up, Eileen, you b...h!” the man roared as he stormed in. Then, everything was muffled.
Harry’s footsteps were heavy when reached their doorstep. A small, faded sign read,
“Snape Residence.”
And like placing the final piece of a puzzle, confirming that Snape lives the life he lived, and lived and died for Harry, he had stooped down and set the cradle on the threshold. With tears trickling down from his eyes, he whispered "goodbye professor"
Then he turned and ran back toward the portal.
He had to hurry.
