Horace Slughorn
"It's Halloween today," thought Horace Slughorn on the morning of October 31st 1981. He was no longer teaching at Hogwarts, having retired the year before. He got up and stretched his old bones before heading down to the kitchen and having some breakfast. The constant threat of You-Know-Who was on his mind and he was considering his plans. He had to be prepared for a sudden move; the Death Eaters could arrive at any moment. Albus Dumbledore had warned him and told him to set up proper precautionary methods. He glanced fondly over to the bowl that held his little fish, Francis. A lovely student by the name of Lily Evans, now Potter, had given him that fish in her sixth year. He had walked into his office one evening to find a bowl filled with water and had a single lily petal in the centre. When he saw it, the petal had sunk to the bottom, but just before it did it turned into this little goldfish, which he had called Francis. He headed out, buying his daily supplies and going to meet with a friend in The Three Broomsticks. When he returned that evening, he had dinner and checked on Francis. What he saw shocked him. The little fish was lying in the middle of the bowl dead. "Lily," he whispered to himself. She was gone. The bright eyed, red haired young witch with so much potential was gone. He felt his eyes fill with tears. "Him," though Horace to himself, feeling as though he would murder that dark, dark wizard who had done this to his student. He was guessing her husband was gone as well. Just then he heard a knock on his door. He wiped his eyes and opened the door, wand out. "Albus!" he said in relief. "Is it true? Are they gone?" he asked the older wizard. He nodded gravely. "It is true my old friend. James and Lily Potter are gone." Horace felt his eyes fill with tears again. "I'm guessing Francis is gone?" asked Dumbledore. Horace nodded and ushered him inside. "Their son, he survives," Albus told him. "I didn't even know they had a son," said Horace. "Yes, a little boy, one year old called Harry James Potter." "How? How did he do it? Where is You-Know-Who?" "As for that, I can only guess Horace. Voldemort is gone," said Albus. Horace flinched at the name. "Dead? The little boy killed the most powerful dark wizard of all time?" Horace asked disbelievingly. "I do not believe he is dead, I think he's out there, too weak to do anything," stated Albus. "What is your guess to how he survived Albus?" Horace asked. "I think that, from the information Severus has brought me, Voldemort offered Lily a chance to live, to step aside and let him kill her son. She refused and he killed her, but the power of her love, her sacrifice for her one year old son, made the curse rebound." "Shouldn't he be dead?" asked Horace. "I believe not," said Albus thoughtfully. "Do you remember?" he asked. Horace flinched. He nodded. "He has done it," said Albus. Horace gasped. "Seven!" Horace exclaimed. "He will not die until they are destroyed," said Albus. "What will become of the boy?" asked Horace. "Everyone in our world will know who he is," Horace said. "He will be going to his closest relatives, the Dursley's, they are muggles," Albus told him. Horace sighed. "I'm meeting Hagrid there. He is bringing Harry," Albus checked the time. "I better go, goodbye Horace, and good luck," he said. Horace said goodbye and Albus departed. Horace trudged up to bed, his heart heavy. In the safety of his bedroom, in his bed he finally let the tears flow.