Horace Slughorn and the Prophesy
Students of the Slug Club sat around the table that had been covered with empty glasses and dirty ice cream bowls. It was the final meeting of the year, and for some, simply the final club gathering ever. In a lull in the conversation, Professor Horace Slughorn noticed the clock.
"Merlin's Beard! How time flies!" says Slughorn. "Off to bed. You have your NEWTs and OWLs to study for. You don't want Mr. Filch to catch you wandering the halls and give you detention."
The students filed out the door continuing their conversations, exchanging hugs, handshakes and congratulations. Slughorn shut and locked the door behind them. As he turned around, he noticed his hourglass had all but stopped. He pulled up with a start as he saw Lily Evens.
"Is there something on your mind, Miss Evens?"
"Sir," said Lily, "I…I was in the library the other night, in the restricted section, and I came across something very odd about a rare piece of magic, and I don't fully understand it. I thought, perhaps, you could share some insight. I read that it is possible for one to protect another from the killing curse."
Slughorn stiffened. For a split second, his face contorted in to a grimace, as if a mask had been removed and revealing such anguish that Lily recoiled. Then his face hardened, regaining some semblance of composure and authority.
"I beg your pardon," said Slughorn. "I don't know anything about such things. And if I did, I wouldn't tell you! Now get out of her at once, and don't ever let me hear you mentioning— "
"Professor, please! None of the others would und—I don't know where else to turn."
Slughorn locked gazes with Lily, and her pure earnestness in her green eyes overcame Slughorn's resolve. Furthermore, Slughorn would do anything to help his all-time favorite student. Had she not been such a talented witch, she still would have made the club on pure kindness alone. Well many not, thought Slughorn with another pang of guilt. He sighed.
"It is old magic, powerful magic. One would need to sacrifice one's own life, of course, for the other. And this magic can only be conjured when the bond of love is so strong that to that to break that bond would be a violation against nature."
"Is the love between a husband and a wife, partners, powerful enough, Professor?"
"No—well yes and no—you see, love isn't enough. You also need a blood connection. And only the love that a mother has for her child is known to be strong enough to successfully conjure such magic. "
"I see."
"There's a price," continued Slughorn. "There's a little-known fact about the killing curse. The soul of the victim is in the killer's captivity until such a time that the killer's wand is sufficiently weakened or if, never mind. The point is that many succumb to fear at the end and don't follow through," Slughorn continued, "even though it doesn't make a difference for the victim. It is a terrible test. Such a tragic, heart-wrenching test. It is one thing to have the selfless bravado, even the bravado the make the Unbreakable Vow, but a whole new level of selfless bravery is needed here, and at the precise moment."
"But if the spell is successful, is the child safe? "
Slughorn closed his eyes straining to remember.
"The protection wears off quickly after the mother passes. However, the protection remains throughout childhood should the child be in the presence of another blood relative."
Lily pondered the professor's comments before asking her next question.
"Is love necessary? I mean, do the blood relatives need to have a strong connection?"
"I—well, no. Now that you mention it. In fact, I don't believe love is necessary. 'Blood is thicker than water' as they say."
Lily met Slughorn's gaze once again. Those green eyes seem to belong to old Nicolas Flamel, not a seventh year about to take her exams.
"Lily, this is…all purely…academic. Isn't it?"
At his question, Lily averted his gaze but finally looked up.
"Thank you, professor."
Lily Evens got up to leave, but as she got to the door, she turned around and smiled at the old wizard. Gone were the cares for a moment and there gazing back at Slughorn was that 11-year-old first-year Gryffindor that he had so actively recruited to his collection.
"Sir, I have a present for you."
"A present? Oh, dear me, child, I couldn't. It just wouldn't be appropriate."
Lily gave him a fleeting smirk which Slughorn matched. Then her smirk turned into a smile that brightened up the room. Any tension that had been there was a distant memory.
"Thought you'd say that, Professor. That's why I have already left it on your desk."