Slughorn's eyes widened at the question, but Tom's look of innocent schoolboy curiosity held strong as the professor tried to recover from his initial shock.
"Is this for a Defence Against the Dark Arts project, Tom?" he asked nervously, his sudden discomfort blatantly obvious.
Tom laughed, as though he were sharing a joke with a friend, and not discussing some of the darkest magic to ever be used.
"No sir, I suppose it's more extracurricular research. I often find myself quite ahead of my peers in class and need something now and then to keep myself busy whilst the other students catch up."
Slughorn considered Tom's response for a moment, his mouth opening and closing like a fish whilst he formed an answer.
"Of course, Tom," he said nervously, "an exceptional wizard such as yourself needs to be satiated with knowledge, but this is very dark stuff, very dark indeed." a shadow seemed to pass over the man's face.
"Forgive me, sir, but what do you know of them? I think it's no secret that you're one of the few teachers in the school who understands me, and I had assumed that a great man such as yourself would have no qualms with helping a devoted student, such as myself, to grow their understanding of magic in all of its facets." the professor flushed slightly with the flattery, and Tom knew he was about to get exactly what he wanted.
"I suppose when you put it like that -" Slughorn turned slightly, walking towards the fireplace in the corner of the classroom, but continued to speak, "a Horcrux is an object that holds a part of a wizard's soul,"
Tom already knew all of this but allowed the man to continue, better for him to assume he was completely naive to the subject, for fear of raising any suspicions.
"-the soul is split by an act of supreme evil, to take another's life corrupts one beyond imagination. An incantation can then be performed, attaching that shard of one's soul to an object for all eternity. Whilst the outcome is immortality, the price of creating a Horcrux on the witch or wizard's magic is arguably not worth the effort. It stains you, hindering your ability to use Light magic over time." Tom couldn't see Slughorn's face, but his tone was grim.
"And the effect on the use of Dark magic, sir?" he pressed.
Slughorn turned, but his eyes seemed keen to look anywhere other than Tom.
"Well, some say it increases an ability to wield Dark magic tenfold," he laughed lightly, trying to relive some of the tension that now sat heavily in the room, "but there has been no research on the topic for hundreds of years. You'd be hard-pressed to find a book even in the Restricted Section with much detail on the subject."
And didn't Tom know it. He'd spent weeks looking for a book on Horcruxes in the library, only to find it and realise it told him no more than the professor already had. However, what Slughorn said next very much intrigued him.
"Would I be right in thinking you'll be spending Christmas at the young Mr Malfoy's estate?"
"Indeed, sir."
"If I'm not mistaken, the Malfoy Library boasts one of the largest collections of texts on Dark magic in Europe. Septimus - his father, of course - has always been rather proud of the collection. May I suggest looking in there for your research?"
Tom's lip quirked. He had already been planning to look through Malfoy's library over the holidays, but Slughorn's suggestion reinforced Tom's confidence in the usefulness of the stacks that waited at Malfoy Manor.
"Thank you, sir. If you don't mind me asking, I do have one more question." Tom knew it was risky asking such a thing, but he was convinced Slughorn would drink up his lie about the research project.
"Of course, my dear boy."
"How many Horcruxes is it possible to make? Seven is the most powerful number in magic, as we all know, would seven strengthen the magic within them?"
Slughorn now did not attempt to hide his horror, his eyes almost bursting out the sockets as his face turned from red to purple.
"Merlin's beard, Tom! Killing one person does irretrievable damage as it is, but to kill seven people? You would be nothing but a shell of your former self! Assure me this is all purely hypothetical Tom? All for research?" he was almost pleading.
Tom smiled.
"All hypothetical, sir. I'll be off now, I apologise for monopolising your time."
Slughorn's face returned to its normal cherry red, waving off Tom's apology, but the fear hadn't left his voice when he spoke again.
"It's no trouble, Tom. Curiosity is natural, I just ask you to be careful, this is not a subject most wizards take lightly. I trust you to use this information responsibly?"
Tom nodded in acknowledgement, which appeared to satisfy the professor.
"Very well, off to bed now, I would hate for you to oversleep and miss the train tomorrow. Have a Merry Christmas, Tom."
"Merry Christmas, Professor."
Tom left the classroom, making his way to the Slytherin common room with a new plan forming in his head. He had a lot of work to do.
The train journey from Hogsmeade Station to Kings Cross was the same as ever, except Tom's compartment was one person down, as was the girl's according to Avery. As much as he knew he was to blame for Lestrange and Aurora's inability to keep their hands to themselves for longer than an hour, it wasn't going to stop him from getting incredibly frustrated every time the chit made him late for a meeting. No matter how profusely Lestrange apologised, Tom knew it was Aurora's way of getting to him indirectly.
Cunning little witch.
They were almost halfway back to London by the time Lestrange stumbled through the door, his dark robes noticeably dishevelled. Tom barely paid him any mind, just gesturing towards the seat opposite himself, eager to get the discussion regarding the holidays over with.
The plan was rather simple. Tom and, much to his dismay, Aurora would spend the whole two weeks at Malfoy Manor. He had already questioned Abraxas on the library and had been told he could have full access whenever wanted.
Then, on Christmas Eve, the Malfoys would host the ball, and each boy would be assigned to certain witches or wizards, trying to establish their stances on Tom's ideologies regarding a more harshly enforced hierarchy within the Wizarding World, without overtly asking, to establish the level of support he'd have access to. The only person who was being given leeway with this task was Abraxas, given that it was meant to be a celebration of his engagement.
Christmas Day with the Malfoys was an affair he had been promised would not disappoint. The days in between Christmas and New Years Eve he would spend in the library, keen to avoid the harpy that would now be swooping around the Manor also.
And finally, of course, there was New Year's Eve. His birthday. Try as he might, Tom had not been able to shut down Avery's insistence that the boys travelled back to the Manor to celebrate, given that it was his coming of age.
Tom usually hated his birthday, it was only ever a reminder of the day his mother had been weak enough to die, leaving him at the mercy of the muggles at the Orphanage. At least no one there ever bat an eyelid and his refusal to even acknowledge the day, something his magical counterparts could barely fathom.
But seventeen was different. Instead of a reminder of his confinement, it served as a marker of his freedom, now able to go and do as he pleased, at least within the laws of Wizards. Eventually, he agreed, but on the condition that it was only the boys in attendance.
Black and Selwyn were nice enough, but they seemed to be a package deal with Hornby. He would already have to put up with Aurora and really couldn't deal with more than one banshee at a time.
It was decided they would floo in the morning, school trunks in tow, and spend the day raiding Abraxas' father's Firewhiskey collection. They would then all depart from the Manor back to Kings Cross the next morning, and be on their way back to Hogwarts.
It was a simple enough plan. It was only a Christmas holiday, Tom told himself, it was incredibly unlikely anything could go wrong, yet for some reason, he couldn't quite shake the feeling of dread that grew stronger and stronger as the train drew closer to London.
The Malfoys had hired one of the cars from the Ministry to take them from the station to Wiltshire. The Saloon car that had been waiting for them looked almost brand new, but the shrunken head that hung next to the driver dampened the charm of the otherwise very muggle looking vehicle.
The fact the interior looked more like that of a bus than a family car thanks to extension charms also contributed, but the shrunken head was slightly more distracting.
Aurora spent the car journey tucked to the very back seat, pointedly staring out the window. When they had departed the train earlier, Malfoy had had to nearly drag her away from Lestrange. Once again, Tom knew she was only doing it to make him wait, but he had to admit her theatrical performance of a tortured soul forced to leave her lover had been impressive. Not to mention the amount of attention she had drawn.
As suspected, the moment they breached the barrier between Platform 9 ¾ and the muggle world, all traces of her tears from mere moments ago had gone, and she had returned to her usual bored sneer. After a few moments exposed to the volume of muggles though, her boredom had turned to blatant disgust, and she stormed towards the exit, dragging her trunk behind her, Malfoy sighing wearily before trailing after her with his own trunk in tow.
Only two weeks, Tom thought as he took a deep breath, adjusting his sport coat, and followed the two towards the main exit. When he stepped out into London, he allowed himself to absorb the sights around him, trying to place any changes to surrounding buildings that had appeared since his last visit in September.
It had become a game for Tom since the muggles from Germany had begun to bomb England in his Third Year. He used to count each building still standing when he left each year, then upon his return would work out which had succumbed to the Blitz. Since the halt in the Luftwaffe's attacks, the game had changed to guessing which buildings the muggles had considered important enough to resurrect, and which had been lost to the War.
As suspected, St Pancras Station across the bustling road stood proud once again, fully recovered from the bombing it had endured two years ago. The houses that had once stood nearby were conspicuously absent, the ground still bare. Tom supposed it would probably be turned into an office building. It was a stupid game, but it was a good brain teaser at the end of the day, so he continued to play.
When he was satisfied with his observations, Tom made his way towards the car parked directly in front of the station entrance, the door held open by a slender Wizard in a plum Ministry trench coat and hat. He nodded to Tom as he climbed into the car, taking his trunk and closing the door behind him.
Tom knew the Ministry had a fleet of muggle cars with extension charms applied, but ten rows of seats were somewhat excessive. Malfoy and Aurora were both staring out the windows, seemingly observing the still crumbling buildings of London as Tom had been doing moments ago.
"They really are animals, aren't they?" Malfoy remarked.
Tom laughed darkly.
"You have no idea, a couple of years ago you couldn't come into the city without risking being caught in a bombing. Almost all of London was destroyed."
Malfoy didn't take his eyes off the scene now rolling past them as the car drove away from the Station.
"This is the first time I've been allowed in muggle London since they started killing each other. Father used to apparate directly to and from the platform, he said we'd be savaged by the muggles if we came any other way."
Tom saw Aurora's brow furrow slightly at that.
"I thought apparition was banned on the Station?"
"Perks of being Senior Advisor to the Minister, my dear." He winked.
After that, the three fell into a comfortable silence, Aurora retreating to the back of the car where she had now been lounging for the best part of two hours. Tom had buried himself in a book, searching for any mention he could find of Horcruxes, but was thus far unsuccessful. The prospect of getting to spend almost two weeks tucked away with a whole library at his disposal delighted him far more than he let on, especially given that delight wasn't something he could normally even feel.
Therefore, when Malfoy announced their approach, Tom's eyes drew quickly towards the Manor fast approaching in the distance. He knew the Malfoy family was rich, but the sheer enormity of the house was staggering.
Even in the dull light of a December afternoon, Malfoy Manor towered over the otherwise unassuming Wiltshire countryside. Easily matching the width of Buckingham Palace, with towers at even intervals across the front of the building, it looked more like a fortress than a family home.
The car passed straight through the front gate, which appeared to have turned to smoke as they approached, before hardening back into steel behind them. The driveway continued for several hundred more feet until they finally came to a stop just in front of an unforgiving dark marble portico.
The same wizard from earlier opened the door once again, allowing the three younger wizards out, nodding silently to each as their trunks disappeared from beside the car. Tom raised his eyebrow towards Malfoy.
"Not sure how but it sends your belongings to your rooms, probably something to do with the house elves." was all he offered, before lending his arm to Aurora, turning and making their way up the steps to the entrance of the Manor.
Tom followed suit, his face relaxing into a polite smile as the great ebony doors swung open.
Lord and Lady Malfoy were quite the sight to behold.
Lord Malfoy looked almost identical to Abraxas, head tilted back ever so slightly as he observed his son and his two friends enter his house. Being a Malfoy, he had the signature platinum blond hair, although it was tied back at the base of his neck, unlike Abraxas who wore his loose at his shoulders. The most striking feature, however, was the cane he held at his side, a gilded silver snake with emeralds for eyes staring directly at Tom from the handle. He was exactly how Tom had imagined him to look.
Lady Malfoy was not what Tom had expected, however. Much like her husband, she held herself proudly, but the searching coolness that Lord Malfoy displayed was nowhere to be seen, instead, she smiled warmly at the younger wizards, hands clasped in front of her deep blue robes. She too was blonde, but instead of the icy white her son had, it was darker and more golden, curled on top of her head the same way Aurora often wore hers.
As the doors swung closed behind them, she rushed forward, embracing her son tightly.
"Oh Abraxas, it never does get easier to send you off for months at a time." she gushed as he laughed awkwardly, somewhat stifled by her hug.
"Mother you know Hogwarts is perfectly safe," he said as she pulled back, her hands resting on his arms as she stared at his face as if she were checking for injuries.
"I know darling, it's the train ride I worry about, you've seen what those cr-" she cut herself off, looking at Tom warily before Malfoy realised why she had stopped.
"It's fine, mother, he thinks the same." she visibly exhaled before continuing.
"-you've seen what those creatures have done to themselves, Merlin knows what I'd do if something happened to you if something happened when you're passing through their world." she smiled kindly, even though her words were far from it.
It was then Lord Malfoy finally spoke, his voice shockingly similar to Abraxas' as well.
"Aurelia, he's here in one piece, maybe you should introduce yourself to our guests you've been so looking forward to," he suggested, but Tom could hear his teasing tone.
"Of course," she turned to Aurora first, embracing her similarly to the way she had Abraxas "it has been far too long, Aurora my dear," she pulled back slightly, inspecting her as well, "and may I say, your hair is blonde enough to compete with Abraxas these days, I still remember when it was almost black."
Aurora smiled at the woman, laughing lightly.
"It's good to see you too, Lady Malfoy, and according to my father, my hair started to change about the same time I started showing magic. He liked to say that I changed through sheer willpower to look nothing like Gueneviere." that elicited a deep chuckle from Lord Malfoy and a slightly disapproving if not humoured look from the Lady, Tom assumed there was a joke he was missing out on.
"Ever the charmer, Miss Rosier," the Malfoy patriarch stepped forward, taking the hand his wife had just released and kissing Aurora's knuckles, "how your mother managed to produce a daughter quite literally her antithesis I will never know."
Aurora snorted, "Lord Malfoy, you know what she's like, it's quite difficult to not detest the woman and want to put as much distance as possible between you."
"Ah I'm afraid I've learnt too well to never speak ill of a woman," he smiled at his wife who looked as though she were holding back laughter at the exchange, so instead cleared her throat and turned to Tom.
"And Tom, I'm afraid that I've not had the pleasure of meeting you yet, I must admit when Abraxas owled me to say we'd have a guest I was very excited, I'm quite the host. I'm Aurelia Malfoy, and this is my husband, Septimus." she gestured towards the Lord.
Tom kissed her offered hand, as was expected in Pureblood customs.
"A pleasure to meet you, Lady Malfoy, thank you for inviting me into your home."
"Please, call me Aurelia, that goes for you too, Aurora, there's no point using titles in my own house." she waved off.
"Mr Riddle, is it?" Septimus asked, shaking Tom's hand firmly, "I can't say I've heard of that family before, are they foreign?"
Tom swore he could see Aurora's eyes narrowed towards him, as the lie he had perfected so many years ago rolled off his tongue.
"Yes, actually. The Riddles were a very reclusive family in Ireland and believed in home education to shield from muggles, but my mother pushed for me to attend Hogwarts. Unfortunately, a nasty Dragon Pox infection broke out only a few years ago, claiming the remaining family members and left me the sole heir. I do however have a benefactor who was kind enough to take me in, only asking me to keep his identity confidential. You know how some wizards are about privacy."
Strictly speaking, it wasn't a complete lie, there was fact woven into his fiction, but Tom was yet to meet a wizard who hadn't lapped up the lie. It appeared Septimus Malfoy was no different.
"Of course, of course, it is truly such a shame to see so many Pureblood families going extinct these days. A good friend of mine published a book a few years ago, The Pureblood Directory, can you believe there are only twenty-eight noble houses still standing in England?"
"It is rather shocking sir. I'm not sure what Abraxas has told you, but I myself am very passionate about maintaining Wizarding society effectively, and believe that only the purest among us are capable of such a thing. We allow those of muggle descent places of power and it derails all that it means to be a Pureblood. I think there needs to be reform within the ministry, and people like you are the ones who will be able to get the cogs moving." Tom finished his pitch, watching carefully for Septimus's reaction.
Aurelia looked impressed, her eyebrows slightly raised at the sixteen-year-old in front of her, who knew exactly what he wanted and had just pitched it very well tom someone so senior. Abraxas looked more cautious, his eyes darting back and forth between his father and Tom, trying to gauge the situation. Finally, Aurora had her arms crossed in front of her, her head tilted ever so slightly as she regarded him, looking as though she were actually processing what he had just said, instead of rolling her eyes and huffing. Septimus's lip quirked up.
"I think you and I will get along finely, Mr Riddle."