When two worlds collide.

The Supper Party.

"So tell me, Cormac, do you see anything of your uncle Tiberius these days?" Slughorn questions as we sit down at his supper party.

"Yes, sir, in fact I'm meant to get hunting with him and the Minister of Magic over the holidays." Cormac smiles proudly.

"Oh, well, be sure to give them both my best. And what about your uncle, Belby? For those of you who don't know well, Marcus' uncle invented the Wolfsbane Potion. Is he working on anything new?" He turns to Belby.

"I don't know. He and my dad don't get along. 'Prolly cause my dad says potions are rubbish. His only potion worth having is a stiff one at the end of the day." Belby shrugs.

Charming.

"And what about you, Ms. Granger, what exactly does your family do in the Muggle world?" Slughorn smiles at Hermione who was sat besides me.

"My parents are dentists. They tend to people's teeth." She explains.

"Fascinating. And is that considered a dangerous profession?" Slughorn leans forward in anticipation.

"Uh,.No. Although, one boy, Robbie Fenwich, did bite my father once. He needed ten stitches!" Hermione rambles on before Ginny walks in.

"Ah, Ms. Weasley. Come in, come in!"

"Look, her eyes. They've been fighting again. Her and Dean." Hermione whispers to me.

She looks really upset.

"Sorry, I'm not usually late." Ginny chuckles nervously.

"No matter, just in time for dessert. That is if Belby has left you any!" Slughorn chuckles at his own joke.

I was too focused on Slughorn to even acknowledge that Hermione was talking to me.

"What?" I whisper.

"Nothing." Hermione groans.

. . .

People started to leave and I stood to admire the huge hourglass.

"Goodbye. Bye-bye. Barnes!"

"I'm sorry, sir, I was just admiring your hourglass." I sigh.

"Ah yes, most intriguing object. The sand runs in accordance with the quality of the conversation. It is stimulating, the sand runs slowly. If it is not..." He stands besides me.

"I think I'll be going, then." I clear my throat.

"Nonsense. You have nothing to fear, dear girl. Actually, some of your classmates...Well, let's just say they're unlikely to make the shelf.." He chuckles.

"Shelf, sir?" I furrow my eyebrows.

The fuck is that?

"Anyone who aspires to be anyone hopes to end up here. But then again, you already are someone, aren't you, Alex?" Slughorn glances at me.

"Did Voldemort ever make the shelf, sir? You knew him, didn't you, sir? Tom Riddle? You were his teacher." I sigh.

"Mr. Riddle had a number of teachers who was here at Hogwarts." Slughorn huffs.

"What was he like? I'm sorry, sir. Forgive me. He's trying to kill me you see." I shrug casually.

"I am aware. It's only natural you should want to know more. But I'm afraid I must disappoint you, Alex. When I first met young Mr. Riddle, he was a quiet, albeit brilliant boy, committed to becoming a first-grade wizard. Not unlike others I've known. Not unlike yourself, in fact. If the monster existed, it was very deep within.." He frowns disappointingly.