Hello everyone! This is just a little idea I came up with for a story, this is only the prologue, you need to read Chapter One to really get your teeth into the story! Please REVIEW and tell me what you think/whether I should continue!

THANKSIES!

Prologue - Prewett's Mistake

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

"Tom, Tom, if I knew I couldn't tell you," said Professor Slughorn, sitting in a comfortable winged armchair, his feet resting upon a velvet pouffe, and a glass of wine in his left hand. The other hand was foraging in a box of crystallised pineapple. Slughorn was a large man, with thick, shiny, straw-coloured hair and a fabulous gingery-blonde moustache, which gave him the appearance of a walrus in clothes, "I must say, I'd like to know where you get your information, boy; more knowledgeable than half the staff you are."

He shot Tom a look of admiration. The boy smiled at him, and the other boys sitting around the table glanced at him as though to bask in his reflected glory.

"What with your uncanny ability to know things you shouldn't, and your careful flatter 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 for Magic within twenty years. Fifteen, if you keep sending me pineapple. I have excellent contacts at the Ministry."

Tom smiled at his teacher as the other boys laughed, he was not the eldest of the group, yet seemed to be looked upon as their leader, "I don't know whether politics would suit me sir," he said graciously, "I don't have the right kind of background, for one thing."

"Nonsense," said Slughorn 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; one of the boys was still standing there.

"Look sharp, Tom, you don't want to be caught out of bed out of hours, and you a prefect..." Slughorn said hurriedly

"Sir, I wanted to ask you something," Tom said, his pale face illuminated by the flickering firelight.

"Ask away, then, m'boy, ask away. . . ."

"Sir, I wondered what you know about. . . about Horcruxes.'

Slughorn stared at him, his thick fingers clawing the stem of his wine glass. He looked as though he was about to answer, and then suddenly, there was a sharp knock on the door.

"Come in!" Slughorn said, possibly a little louder than he meant to, as it came out as more of a screech.

The door opened, and a small man in his late twenties walked in. He had bright red hair, freckles and was wearing horn-rimmed glasses.

"Terribly sorry to disturb you Horrace," he tittered nervously.

"Not at all, Ignatius, not at all," Slughorn replied, looking relieved to have been given an excuse not to have to talk about Horcruxes, "Tom here was just leaving, weren't you Tom?"

"Yes, Professor," Tom replied, and walked towards the door, looking disappointed, "Good night Professor Slughorn, Professor Prewett." He nodded his head towards Ignatius, who smiled at him, then closed the door behind him.

"What can I do for you Professor?" Slughorn asked.

"Well sir," Prewett replied, "Albus sent me here to check on Mr. Riddle. It seemed rather urgent- he was flustered. It was as though he'd seen a ghost!"

"Well, now you've seen the young Tom was alright, you won't mind leaving will you Ignatius?" Slughorn said shortly, his eyebrows folded in befuddlement, "I'm not a young man, after all, need my sleep don't I?"

"Of course, Horance," Prewett said quietly, and left the room without another word.