Chapter 10

Only Power

A Memoir on Horcruxes and the Morality of their Making

By Lord Voldemort, formerly known as T. M. Riddle

Dear Albus, or whoever else may read these words, making Horcruxes was a difficult choice for me, but it is one I have made all the same and must now defend, in the face of the stupid wizard world.

Perhaps it would be wise to explain what exactly a Horcrux is and does, a topic that I had, of course, thoroughly researched beforehand. The basic principle, as I suppose all of my potential readers already know, is for a wizard to split his soul, an effect achieved through a murder, and to conceal one part of it in an object, a process which allegedly protects the Horcruxed party from death. This description might seem comprehensive, but it is actually relying on several shorthands that must now be cleared. First, a rather crucial detail that is not usually explained his how the splitting of the soul protects the Horcruxed one from death. The reason, I have found, is that a soul yearns to be whole, for that is its nature; powerful magics hold it together, and when a part of it is separated, it is still attracted to the other piece like a small chip off a magnet, if you will. Therefore, when a lethal situation threatens to destabilize the 'main' soul — that is the one that remains in the Horcruxed one's body —, the concealed soul piece, or pieces, act as anchors that stabilize the main soul and prevent it from disappearing or 'moving on' to the Afterlife.

Secondly, there has recently been some debate over the nature of a soul in the first place; Muggles have indeed discovered that thinking processes similar to what any human being performs can be achieved through the mere structure of the brain, without any need for a magical mind-holder such as the soul. My tests lead me to conclude that a soul is a permanent magical phenomenon that copies the state of the brain at any given moment; should the brain be damaged or otherwise stop functioning properly, the soul takes over, so to speak. This allows wizards to keep thinking as humans when in Animagus form or put through other similar transformations. The soul, still according to my studies, can however only store a finite amount of memories on its own, which is one of the reasons why one should not stay under Polyjuice or in Animagus form for too long, lest he suffer issues such as amnesia or even outright insanity. This very same thing also accounts for the so-called 'forgetfulness' and 'thick skull' of ghosts such as that of our dear departed Professor Binns. Speaking of ghosts, I do believe they are manifestations of souls, and not a separate phenomenon such as a 'magical imprint' as has sometimes been posited. However, I find it noteworthy that ghosts have only ever been known to manifest in heavily magical locations, a fact that is perhaps best illustrated by the profusion of ghosts at Hogwarts. My theory is therefore that ghosts are souls that are sustained post-mortem by the surrounding magic field.

Since we have now settled the matter of ghosts, this leads us right into the next issue, that is the so-called Afterlife. No actual evidence has ever been found of its existence. It should be a telling sign that the Afterlife currently imagined by our wizarding scholars is inherently unreachable, for some unexplained reason. There are only two objects that allegedly prove a persistence of non-ghostified souls after death: the Resurrection Stone, and the Veil. The Stone is very easily dismissed, for it is merely a legend, quite lovely but also quite unfounded. No records speak of any 'Peverell Brothers', nor does any contemporary wizards mention the Stone's creation in their writings, which is quite surprising, as such a breakthrough would have been a ground-shaking event. The Veil undoubtedly exists, that is fact, but it may still be a hoax, designed perhaps by the wizarding pope in the times when our religion was ruled by secular priests. Once again, I find it quite conspicuous that there is no way of observing what lies on the other side. It would be ludicrously easy to build a thing identical to the Veil — a Hogwarts first-year could do it easily. Build an archway, hang a piece of black cloth, and enchant it so that it Vanishes anything it touches; add an enchantment not any more complicated that the Howler Charm, to make the glorified wnidow curtain produce ominous whispers; and lo and behold, The Veil. If it did exist, I could also think of several ways the Stone itself could likewise be faked.

What the believers always answer to this argument is that 'Our Creator' could not have been so evil as to allow for true oblivion to exist for his children. That is assuming that there is such a thing as an omnibenevolent Creator. I have yet to see any evidence whatsoever of such a being's existence. It is a superstition that Muggle researchers lay aside long ago, though the masses still abide to it. To that, those same blind wizards will answer that the existence of magic is evidence to an omnipotent creator's existence. This is nonsense; if magic was a miracle brought forth by a benevolent God, and not a mere law of nature, why would there be nearly as much Dark magic as there is Light magic? Like all things in this world, magic is a neutral phenomenon, and can be used for good or for evil alike. Could the benevolent God have designed the Cruciatus Curse, or let some creature of his design it? Rubbish, I say.

The sad truth, I am very much afraid, is that the soul, this beautiful system, is a human creation. Some great wizard, whose name has unfairly been forgotten by History, must have designed it millenia ago, for the purpose of allowing human transfiguration; the existence of ghosts in some magically-charged place is likely an unforeseen side-effect which has unfortunately lit the hopes of the unfortunate mortal crowds. Alas, it was not designed to hold together without the sustainment provided either by the individual's own magical core (contrary to the pureblood supremacists' belief, Muggles and Squibs — who are actually one and the same — do possess one, albeit weaker than wizards') or by the surrounding magical field. Unless they are provided with an alternate and reliable power source, souls become unstable and fade after the original individual's passing. This process takes long enough that survivors of 'Near-Death Experiences' can report an out-of-the body experience, further strengthening the belief in an afterlife.

With this in mind, Death becomes much more awful than any of our 'religious' wizards think it is. Death and oblivion are the same. Oblivion is a prospect I very much fear, and I have spent a significant part of my youth (of our common youth, Albus, if it is you reading those words) researching means to escape it through magic. As I have said before, magic is neither good nor evil; it is only power, the full possibilities of which most wizards are too weak to seek. If there is no good or evil in it, no great creator with his grand cosmic plans, there is no reason why there shouldn't be ways to escape death through magic. However, due to the zealous nature of the believers in the afterlife, who later were very quick to label me as a Dark Lord, that research I could only lead in secret, as I still do today. One day, I will have perfected this great creation and I shall offer it to the world. Until then, I must hide and protect myself to ensure that, in tragic irony, I will not be cut off in my quest to defeat Death by Death itself. This is why I have resorted to Horcruxes, despite the unholy sacrifices they require. Seven people, Albus. Seven carefully chosen martyrs, to allow for the survival of billions. The answer to this dilemma is obvious in retrospect. I even tried to arrange for my victims to be made into ghosts, although that did not, sadly, always succeed.

I have also been attacked for making seven Horcruxes, rather than only one. My opposer (you, dear Albus, if it is you reading) argued that this was overdoing it, that one murder was bad enough. I beg to disagree. The alleged 'luck' of the number seven, unlike what a certain newspaper woman by the name of Skeeter insinuated, has nothing to do with it. I made seven Horcruxes simply as a safeguard: if one should be found and destroyed, I could still rely on the others, hidden in other places with other protections, making the likelihood of all of them being destroyed at once infinitesimal. Finally, I will explain why my last Horcrux (this is the only one of which I will disclose the nature) is a mortal, living being, a snake. It, too, is essential to my safety: should (Heaven forbid) my body be entirely destroyed, I could only regain one by temporarily possessing another wizard's body. Since, firstly, my six inert Horcruxes obviously need to be hidden in unreachable locations, and secondly, physical contact of the Horcrux with the possessed wizard is needed for Horcrux-based possession to take place, it would be best to have a special Horcrux that I could control to move around and find a suitable host in such an occurence. I made a snake because I know a few of my Knights of Walpurgis (whom the public may know better by the disgraceful name of Death Eaters, also courtesy of Mrs Skitter) to be Parselmouths, which would then allow me to communicate with my future host, which I could otherwise only have achieved by Horcruxing a human being, which would of course be an ethically abhorrent idea.

I hope I have argued my case satisfyingly.

Lord Voldemort