Snape's heart gave a sharp thud against his ribs. He immediately asked, "A Horcrux? Are you certain?"
In the mirror, Narcissa shook her head, then, after a tense pause, nodded with a flicker of fear in her eyes.
"I can't be completely sure," she said, her golden hair trembling slightly, "but the Dark Lord was unusually solemn about it. He handed it to Lucius himself and instructed him to act with absolute secrecy. No one was to know, not even me."
"The level of caution he showed makes it very likely." Her voice quickened slightly. "It's an exquisitely made locket, about the size of an egg, hanging from a heavy gold chain. There's a prominent 'S' on it, set with small green gemstones."
At her description, the image of Slytherin's Locket, the Horcrux that should have been hidden in the seaside cave, flashed through Snape's mind. He was nearly certain that what Narcissa described was indeed that Horcrux.
It seemed that after Dumbledore had uncovered his previous hiding place, Voldemort, in his twisted logic, had chosen what he believed to be a safer, symbolically fitting location: the vault of an ancient pure-blood family, at Gringotts.
"Excellent," Snape said slowly. "Then, Narcissa, can you find a way to remove the locket from the vault and deliver it to me?"
"What?" Narcissa gasped, shaking her head in alarm. "Of course not, Severus! Don't you understand? The Dark Lord already controls Gringotts. The goblins there are his eyes and ears.
"Even the slightest irregularity would be reported to him directly. The Malfoy family vault is under constant, meticulous surveillance."
"Forget about taking anything out-" she gave a bitter laugh, "even if Lucius and I simply asked to open our vault without a fully justified reason, the goblins would grow suspicious, and word would reach the Dark Lord in moments. We cannot afford that risk."
Snape fell silent. Her reasoning was sound. Forcing Narcissa to enter Gringotts now would be suicide. He couldn't possibly ask her to retrieve the Horcrux and then make a daring escape on a blind dragon, could he? She might not share the same luck as those who once had.
"Then which goblin specifically oversees the Malfoy vault?" he asked. "What's its name? Any distinguishing traits? I might find another way inside, but I'd need a goblin's cooperation. Otherwise, it's impossible to reach the inner chambers."
"Calm down, Severus." Narcissa's expression turned from fear to disbelief. "If you're planning to rob Gringotts, you've gone mad. It can't be done. The goblins, the dragons, the enchantments, you wouldn't make it halfway."
"Then what do you suggest?" Snape's mouth curved faintly. "Should you go? As the lady of the house, you must know it better than I do. Perhaps you can find an excuse to approach it without drawing suspicion?"
Narcissa froze, caught off guard. Her expression shifted from surprise to faint irritation.
She fell silent for several seconds, as if weighing a grave decision. Finally, her gaze hardened. Staring into the mirror, she asked, "How many Horcruxes have you destroyed so far?"
Snape's eyes narrowed, his brow tightening slightly. "Does that matter to our current objective?"
"Of course it does!" Narcissa's tone sharpened; there was a tremor of resentment beneath it. "You people float above everything, you have Dumbledore's ship, you can disappear at will, you have an escape route. But what about us, Severus? The Malfoys?
"We live right under his nose, in the midst of Death Eaters, in the shadow of the Dark Lord himself!
"If you fail, or if destroying a few Horcruxes isn't enough to weaken him, do you realize what kind of danger we're in?
"I need to know how close you are to success. I have to know if we're nearing the end, or if this is just a futile gamble!"
A heavy silence fell between them.
Narcissa's chest heaved as she caught her breath, her face pale.
Snape studied the tense woman in the mirror. He understood her perfectly.
If their mission succeeded, she and her family would be honored for their part. But if it failed, or if only one or two Horcruxes were destroyed, leaving Voldemort's power intact, the Malfoys would be doomed.
Given how far she had already gone, after providing the diary and sending Regulus to their side, the family was effectively committed. Snape decided she deserved the truth.
"Four," he said quietly, lowering his voice. "We've found and destroyed four Horcruxes."
Narcissa's breath hitched sharply. Her eyes widened in disbelief, and her hands trembled, nearly dropping the mirror.
"I, Merlin above... that many? Four... and if the locket counts... five, five fragments of his soul..." She shook her head. "That's monstrous..."
"Yes," Snape replied evenly. "But it's nearly over. We're close now, we can see the end ahead."
Narcissa took several long moments to absorb the magnitude of it all. Her eyes flickered, uncertain, then refocused with visible effort.
"Severus," she asked, voice unsteady, "how many pieces do you believe the Dark Lord meant to divide himself into?"
"Six vessels," Snape answered at once. "Including the fragment within himself, seven parts in total."
"So," he continued, his gaze steady, "if we secure the locket you mentioned, only one target will remain. Victory is within reach."
"Seven... seven..." Narcissa murmured, the number rolling off her lips like a spell.
Snape waited, assuming she would need time to recover from the revelation. But suddenly, her eyes snapped into focus.
"Severus," she said, drawing a deep breath, her voice resolute, "you don't need to go to Gringotts."
"What?" Snape blinked. "You mean, you've decided to go yourself?"
Narcissa didn't answer immediately. Instead, a peculiar expression, part fear, part relief, part cunning, crossed her face.
Lowering her gaze, she reached into her robes and drew out a small box wrapped in dark green silk. It fit neatly in her palm.
Her hands trembled slightly as she unwrapped it and lifted the lid toward the mirror.
Inside, against a lining of deep red velvet, lay a heavy golden locket.
"Before Lucius placed the real one in the vault," Narcissa said, her pale face breaking into a shaky but triumphant smile, "I swapped it with a counterfeit."
"The imitation looks and feels nearly identical, though not perfect enough to survive close inspection," she admitted, closing the lid and clutching the box tightly.
"But Lucius was so nervous at the time, and under such pressure, that he didn't notice. He put the fake one away."
"The one in Gringotts is false. The real one has been with me all along."
Snape froze. For a moment, he simply stared at her through the mirror. Then shock gave way to admiration, and relief.
"Narcissa," he said sincerely, "you've done brilliantly. You've spared us, and yourself, an impossible ordeal. Now there's only one Horcrux left."
Hufflepuff's Cup, their final target.
Then, remembering the locket's curse, Snape quickly warned, "But listen carefully, don't wear it. Not ever."
"I'm not a fool, Severus," Narcissa replied, regaining her composure and poise. "Just looking at it makes my skin crawl. I'd rather throw it into the sea."
"Understandable." Snape gave a thin smile. "I doubt anyone sane would choose to wear that thing around their neck. Very well, let's meet somewhere secluded. You'll hand it over then."
They agreed upon a remote, barren hillside in Wales, far from any wizarding or Muggle settlement, to meet at dusk the following day.
...
The next evening.
Dusk fell heavy. The wind howled through the bare branches.
Snape arrived early, lurking in the shadows, ensuring he hadn't been followed.
When Narcissa appeared, anxious and tense, and had waited for some time, he finally stepped out from hiding.
There was no need for pleasantries. She withdrew the small box from beneath her cloak and held it out to him, as though offering a burning coal.
Snape opened it, confirmed its authenticity, and set it on a flat rock nearby.
He narrowed his eyes at the emerald-studded "S," imagining it as a small serpent coiled atop the stone.
From within, something scuttled faintly, like an insect trapped in a cage.
Drawing his goblin-made silver dagger, Snape pinned the locket firmly against the rock.
"Open!"
With a hiss, the clasp sprang open.
Behind each tiny glass window blinked a living eye, dark and lucid, like Tom Riddle's before they turned red and slit-pupiled.
Before that familiar voice could begin its whispers, Snape's dagger flashed down.
Two screams rang out at once, Narcissa's cry of shock and the Horcrux's shriek of agony.
Then silence.
Snape bent down and picked up the broken locket. The glass panes were shattered, the eyes gone, faint wisps of smoke curling from the silk interior. The fragment within was destroyed.
He used a few quick spells to cleanse the stone of residue, pocketed the ruined locket, and turned to Narcissa. She was pale, clutching her chest, trembling.
"It's done," he said simply.
Catching her breath, she managed, "You could have told me you spoke Parseltongue!"
"Does it matter?" Snape shrugged.
"Of course it does!" Narcissa huffed. "Most pure-blood families care about that sort of thing!" She sighed, then added, perhaps to lighten the mood, or to share news, "By the way, the Ministry looks completely different now.
"The Fountain of Magical Brethren has been replaced with a massive black statue, a witch and a wizard sitting on ornate thrones, with Muggles and Mudbloods crushed beneath their feet. And the inscription at the base now reads, 'Magic Is Might.'"
"Might?" Snape gave a dry, cold laugh. "Don't forget, Narcissa, you already held power. Now you've just gained a lunatic above you, a so-called immortal who fears death more than anyone, who's turned your family vault into his storeroom."
Narcissa's expression faltered slightly. She quickly shifted the subject.
"Speaking of immortality," she said, "Lucius told me that during a recent Death Eater gathering, the Dark Lord proudly declared that he had reached the end of the path to eternal life, that he had conquered death itself."
"Of course, they don't all believe him," she added. "Lucius and the others think it's just one of his triumphant boasts. No one truly believes he's defeated death."
"But," Narcissa's eyes grew intent, "given what you've said, about his Horcruxes, perhaps that's what he meant? Perhaps he was referring to his progress in creating them?"
Snape understood instantly.
Voldemort's boast made perfect sense now, he must have just completed the final Horcrux, transforming the Invisibility Cloak into one, thus achieving the magical number seven.
To him, it was the pinnacle of immortality.
And now, that so-called immortality had been shattered.
"I see," Snape said, nodding once. "Thank you, Narcissa. That's valuable information."
Their business concluded, they parted quickly and went their separate ways.
When Snape returned to his cabin, he had barely taken off his cloak and begun thinking about how to locate Hufflepuff's Cup when a rapid, hesitant knock sounded on the door.
He adjusted his robes and opened it.
Standing outside were James Potter and Sirius Black.