THE HORCRUXES
"I’m afraid I must burden us with more bad news.” Minerva paused, glancing at the faces around the table. They are all far too young, and had already been through so much. “While the so-called Dark Lord was fallen, he may not be dead. Albus Dumbledore believed that You-Know-Who--” She paused, steeling herself. “Voldemort had found a way to cheat death. It is only with the most terrible darkest type of magic.”
She placed The Secrets of the Darkest Arts on the table. She had found it when going through Albus’s office, now her office, just a week ago along with some of his notes. She hadn’t wanted to believe it, and yet, it made sense with everything she knew of the man and the monster.
“If you’ll allow me a bit of a lecture to provide context…” Minerva paused and when no one dissented, she continued. “To create a horcrux, a wizard first must deliberately commit the most supreme act of evil, damaging his own soul in a foolish quest for immortality. From that damage he is able to tear off a part of his soul and place them into an object.”
“Albus believed that … Voldemort had managed to do this more than once.” Her mouth curled tightly around those words, unwilling to say them, but also uncomfortable with their implications. “From what I have gathered, he may have even found one. Although I don’t know where it is nor or what happened to it. However, horcruxes are extraordinarily durable, and quite difficult to destroy. So, I’m afraid I am going to be asking more of you, again, to ensure that the Dark Lord might not rise again.”