Horcruxes Begin : Slughorn's Office

The year is 1943, night, in Slughorn's Office

Voldemort and about half a dozen boy's, were sitting around Slughorn, all on harder or lower seat's than his, all in our mid-teens'. Voldemort's right hand lay negigenlty upon the arm of my chair.

"Sir, is it true that Professor Merrythought is retiring?"

"Tom, Tom, if I knew, I couldn't tell you." Said Slughorn, wagging a reproving, sugar-covered finger at him, though ruining the effect slightly by winking. "I must say, I'd like to know where you get your information, my boy. More knowledge than half the staff, you are."

Riddle smiled; and the other boy's laughed and cast him admiring looks.

"What with your uncanny ability to know thing's you should't, and your careful flattery of the people who matter, thank you for the pineapple, by the way. Your quite right, it is my favorite."

Severall, of the boys tittered, "I confidently ecpect you to rise to Minister of Magic within twenty years. Fifteen, you keep sending me pineapple I have excellent contacts at the Ministry."

Riddle, sat there, and merely smiled, as the others laughed, again. Riddle, was not the eldest amoungst them, but the boys clearly looked up to him, as their leader. "I don't know that politics would suit me, sir." he said, as the laughter had finally broken down. "I don't have the right kind of background, for one thing."

A couple of the boy's smirked at eachother, enjoying a privite joke, undoubtely about they knew, or suspected, regaurding their gang leader's famous ancestor.

"Nonsence," Said Slughorn briskly, "Couldn't be plainer, you come from a decent wizarding stock, abilities like your. 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.

"Blimey, is it that time already? You'd lot better get going, or we'll all be in trouble. Lestrange, I want your essay, by tommorow or it's detetion. Same goes for you Avery."


One by one the boy's 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, after hours, and you a prefect..."

"Sir, I wanted to ask you somethin."

"Ask away, then my boy, ask away..."

"Sir, I was wondering what you knew about... about Horcruxes?"

Slughorn stared at him, his thick fingers absentmindedly caressing the stem of his wine glass. "Project for Defence Against the Dark Arts, it it?" But, Slughorn knew pefectly well that it was not.

"Not exactly, sir." Said Riddle. "I came across the term while reading and I did'nt quite fully understand it."

"No, well you'd be hard-pressed to find a book at Hogwarts, that'll give you details on Horcruxes, Tom. That's very Dark stuff, very dark, indeed." said Slughorn.

"But, you obviously know all about them, sir? I mean, a wizard like you, sorry. I mean, if you cn't tell me, obviously, I just knew if anyone could tell me, you could. So, I just thought I'd ask." It was very well done, his hesitancy, the casual tone, the carefull flattery, none of it over done. Riddle wanted this information, he had been working towards this moment for weeks.

"well," said Slughorn, not looki at Riddle, but fiddiling with a ribon on top of his box of crytilized 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 for an object in which a person has concealed part of his or her soul."

"I don't quite understand how that works, though, Sir." said Riddle. his voice was carefully controlled, trying to hide his excitement.

"Well, you split your soul, you see," said Slughorn, "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, existance in such a form..." and Slughorn's face crumpled, "Few would want it, Tom. Very few. Death would be preferable."

But Riddle's hunger was now apparent; his expression was greedy, he could no longer hide his longing. "How do you split your soul?"

"Well," said Slughorn uncomfortably, "You must understand that the soul is supposed to remain intact and whole. Splitting it is an act of violation, it is against nature."

"But, how do you do it?"

"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 incase the torn portion..."

"Encase? But, how?"

"There is a spell, do not ask me, I do not know!" said Slughorn, shaking his head like an old elephant bothered by mosquitoes. "Do I look as though I have tried it... Do I look like a killer?"

"No, sir, of course not." Said Riddle quickly. "I'm sorry, I did'nt mean to offend."

"No, not all all, not offended," said Slughorn gruffly. "It's natural to feel some curiosity about these things, wizards of a certain calibar have always been drawn to that aspect of magic...

"Yes, sir,"said Riddle. "What I don't understand, though... Just out of curiosity, I mean, would one Horcurux 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?"

"Merlin's beard, Tom!" yelled Slughorn. "Seven! Isn't enough to think of killing one person? And in any case... bad enough to divide the soul... but to rip it into seven pieces..."Sloghorn looked deeply troubled now; he was gazing at Riddle as though he had never seen him plainly before. "Of course," he muttered, "This is all hypothetical, what we're discussling, isn't it? All academic?"

"Yes, sir, of course." Riddle said quickly. "But, all the same, Tom. Keep it quiet, what I've told you. That's to say, what we've discussed, Peoplle would'nt like to think we've been chatting about Horcruxes. It's a banned subject at Hogwarts, you know... Dumbldore's particularly fierce about it..."

"I won't say a word, sir." said Riddle, and he left, his face was full of that same wild happiness it has worn when he had first found out he was a wizard, the sort of happiness that did not embrace his handsome features, but made them, somehow, less human...