"Where should we start?" asked Ron.

Harry skimmed the vials of memories on the wall. Dumbledore had done a nice job organizing them in alphabetical order.

"The letter said 'Horace Slughorn, 1945', so I'm guessing that's what one of the labels will say," he muttered, his eyes scanning along the "S" shelf.

"I've found it, Harry," Hermione called from further down the shelf. "You were looking in the wrong place. You needed to be further down, near 'Slu'. You're standing right near 'Sle'."

"Thanks," Harry said grudgingly. He appreciated her finding it, but he didn't need an academic lecture on the alphabet.

He, Hermione, and Ron all made their way over to the Pensieve. Harry uncorked the vial and poured the silvery thread-like substance in. The liquid inside Pensieve bubbled and turned a slightly darker shade of blue.

"Ready?" Harry asked. Ron and Hermione both nodded, and all three stuck their heads in.

May 3, 1945

"Professor?"

Horace Slughorn turned around to find a young man waiting for him in the doorway.

"Tom," Horace said, addressing the pale, black haired figure of a man. "What brings you here?"

"Well, Sir," Tom Riddle started. "You know I've been reading rather advanced books for my age, and I came across yet another term I didn't recognize."

Horace sighed. This couldn't be good. The last time Tom had come in talking about dark artifacts he had asked a lot about Horcruxes, which was never a good sign.

"What is it?" Horace asked, pushing thoughts of dark magic away.

"The Rope of Avalon," Tom stated. "I know Merlin was quite knowledgeable about it, and I was wondering if you knew about it too."

Horace relaxed a bit because this conversation wasn't as dark as the last one.

"I do," Horace informed him. "What would you like to know about it?"

"Everything," Tom breathed.

"The Rope of Avalon is a form of conceiving. One must wrap it around their lover's neck after drinking a certain potion, and then their lover will bear their child- or the other way around, for the opposite gender," Horace said.

"Where is it now?" asked Tom. His eyes were alive with curiosity.

"It currently lies with the Lady of the Lake, in Avalon," Horace told him. "Why do you ask?"

"Just like my last inquiry," Tom replied, "it is purely academic."

Horace watched Tom leave, and then sat down at his desk and stared into the fire.

Disclaimer: I own none of Harry Potter.