The Secrets of The Sighted (Golden Trio Era) {3}

Slughorn's Memory

"Sir is it true that Professor Merrythought is retiring?" Riddle questioned whilst watching Slughorn's very move, "Tom, Tom, if I knew I couldn't tell you," Slughorn said while wagging his finger reprovingly at Riddle, though winking at the same time, "I must say, I'd like to know where you get your information, boy, more knowledgeable than half the staff, you are." Riddle smiled at Slughorn's comment, the other boys laughed and cast Riddle admiring looks. "What with your uncanny ability to know things you shouldn't, and your careful flattery of the people who matter. Thank you for the pineapple, by the way, you're quite right, it is my favourite. I confidently expect you to rise to Minister of Magic within twenty years. Fifteen, if you keep sending me pineapple, I have excellent contacts at the Ministry."

Tom Riddle merely smiled as the others laughed again. It seemed that Tom was by no means the eldest of the group of boys in the Slughorn, but that they all seemed to look to him as their leader. "I don't know that politics would suit me, sir, I don't have the right kind of background, for one thing." Riddle express as soon as the laughter died down. His words seemed to cause a couple of the boys around him smirked at each other. It was as though they were enjoying a private joke, undoubtedly about what they knew, or suspected, regarding their gang leader's famous ancestor. "Nonsense," Slughorn countered briskly, "couldn't be plainer you come from decent Wizarding stock, abilities like yours. No, you'll go far, Tom, I've never been wrong about a student yet."

The small golden clock standing upon Slughorn's desk chimed eleven o'clock behind him and he looked around. "Good gracious, is it that time already? You'd better get going boys, or we'll all be in trouble. Lestrange, I want your essay by in morrow or it's detention. Same goes for you, Avery." One by one, the boys filed out of the room. Slughorn heaved himself out of his armchair and carried his empty glass over to his desk. A movement behind him made him look around; Riddle was still standing there. "Look sharp, Tom, you don't want to be caught out of bed out of hours, and you're a prefect."

"Sir, I wanted to ask you something." Tom replies, his eyes tracking Slughorn's movements, "ask away, then, m'boy, ask away." Slughorn encouraged with a welcoming smile on his face, "Sir, I wondered what you know about- about Horcruxes?" Slughorn stared at him as if trying to gage what Riddle's motives were, his thick ringers absentmindedly clawing the stem of his wine glass. "Project for Defence Against the Dark Arts, is it?" But it was clear that Slughorn knew perfectly well that this was not schoolwork. "Not exactly, sir, I came across the term while reading and I didn't fully understand it." Riddle responded schooling his expression into one of indifference.

"No, well... you'd be hard-pushed to find a book at Hogwarts that'll give you details on Horcruxes, Tom, that's very Dark stuff, very Dark indeed," Slughorn remarked as he looked at the young Riddle with a curious expression as to see where their conversation was going. "But you obviously know all about them, Sir? I mean, a wizard like you, sorry, I mean, if you can't tell me, obviously. I just knew if anyone could tell me, you could, so I just thought I'd–" It was very well done the hesitancy, the casual tone, the careful flattery, none of it overdone and he made sure that he didn't look too eager. Riddle was truly a masterful manipulator at work, even at such a young age.

Harry and Mikayla could wanted the information very, very much and perhaps has been working toward this moment for weeks. "Well," Slughorn cleared his throat looking away from Riddle, to fiddle with the ribbon on top of his box of crystallised pineapple, "well, it can't hurt to give you an overview, of course. Just so that you understand the term. A Horcrux is the word used for an object in which a person has concealed part of their soul." Slughorn described vaguely, "I don't quite understand how that works, though, sir," Riddle continued to pry, his voice was carefully controlled, but those watching the scene could sense his excitement.

"Well, you split your soul, you see, and hide part of it in an object outside the body. Then, even if one's body is attacked or destroyed, one cannot die, for part of the soul remains earthbound and undamaged. But of course, existence in such a form..." Slughorn's face crumpled as he paused for a split second, "few would want it, Tom, very few. Death would be preferable." Riddle's hunger was now apparent, his expression was undeniably greedy and he could no longer hide his longing for the information that Slughorn held.

"How do you split your soul?" Riddle query, fighting a cheshire grin that wanted to force itself onto his face. "Well," Slughorn began, his voice wavering in discomfort, "you must understand that the soul is supposed to remain intact and whole. Splitting it is an act of violation, it is against nature." Slughorn was avoiding saying what exactly one had to do, but Riddle continued to feign confusion and asked how someone would split their soul in half. "By an act of evil, the supreme act of evil. By committing murder. Killing rips the soul apart. The wizard intent upon creating a Horcrux would use the damage to his advantage. He would encase the torn portion-"

Riddle cut Slughorn off to ask him how one encases a piece of their soul into an object, "there is a spell, do not ask me, I don't know!" Slughorn exclaimed, shaking his head like an old elephant bothered by mosquitoes, it was clear that he had reached his limit. "Do I look as though I have tried it? Do I look like a killer?" Slughorn asked Riddle exasperatedly. "No, sir, of course not!" Riddle reassured quickly, before feigning guilt as he apologised to Slughorn and said that he didn't mean to offend the Potions Master. "Not at all, not at all, not offended," Slughorn dismissed gruffly, "it's natural to feel some curiosity about these things. Wizards of a certain caliber have always been drawn to that aspect of magic..."

"Yes, sir. What I don't understand, though, just out of curiosity, I mean, would one Horcrux be much use? Can you only split your soul once? Wouldn't it be better, make you stronger, to have your soul in more pieces, I mean, for instance, isn't seven the most powerfully magical number, wouldn't seven-?" Slughorn cut off Tom as he yelped in astonishment, "Merlin's beard, Tom! Seven! Isn't it bad enough to think of killing one person? And in any case... bad enough to divide the soul... but to rip it into seven pieces..." Slughorn looked deeply troubled now, not only by the theory behind Tom's words but with fear that he had said too much, which he had.

He was gazing at Riddle as though he had never seen him plainly before, and it was obvious that he was regretting entering into the conversation at all. "Of course," Slughorn muttered, slightly cowering away from Tom, "this is all hypothetical, what we're discussing, isn't it? All academic..." Slughorn asked mainly to put his own mind at rest that he hadn't just incidentally helped a mass murder with finding a way of immortality. "Yes, sir, of course," Riddle confirmed quickly, looking a lot like he had just won the lottery.

"But all the same, Tom... keep it quiet, what I've told- what we've discussed. People wouldn't like to think we've been chatting about Horcruxes. It's a banned subject at Hogwarts, you know... Dumbledore's particularly fierce about it..." Slughorn was majorly back-tracking on the whole conversation, trying to ease his mind, "I won't say a word, sir," Riddle promised before he turned and he left with an expression on his face full of that same wild happiness it had worn when he had first found out that he was a wizard. The sort of happiness that did not enhance his handsome features, but made them, somehow, less human... "Thank you, Harry. Mikayla, you can stop now, thank you." Dumbledore whispered quietly as the memory came to an end.