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chapter sixty-three. (hope is a dangerous thing for a woman like me to have )
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THE NEXT DAY, ASCELLA AND HARRY confided in both Ron and Hermione the task that Dumbledore had set them, though separately, for Hermione still refused to remain in Ron's presence longer than it took to give him a contemptuous look.
Ron thought that Harry was unlikely to have any trouble with Slughorn at all.
"He loves you," he said over breakfast, waving an airy forkful of fried egg. "Won't refuse you anything, will he? Not his little Potions Prince. Just hang back after class this afternoon and ask him."
Hermione, however, took a gloomier view. "He must be determined to hide what really happened if Dumbledore couldn't get it out of him," she said in a low voice, as they stood in the deserted, snowy courtyard at break. "Horcruxes . . . Horcruxes . . . I've never even heard of them . . ."
"You haven't?" Harry was disappointed; he had hoped that Hermione might have been able to give him a clue as to what Horcruxes were.
"They must be really advanced Dark Magic, or why would Voldemort have wanted to know about them? I think it's going to be difficult to get the information, Harry, Ascella, you'll have to be very careful about how you approach Slughorn, think out a strategy. Ascella, have you heard of them?"
Ascella shook her head desolately. "No, never. There might be a book about it in my family's library — Laurent and Black — but if there is, I've never come across it. We could always ask Sirius — or my mum. They might know."
"Ron reckons I should just hang back after Potions this afternoon . . ."
"Oh, well, if Won-Won thinks that, you'd better do it," she said, flaring up at once. "After all, when has Won-Won's judgment ever been faulty?"
