The Saturday after her return to Hogwarts, Teddie found herself, once again, in Dumbledore's office waiting for Harry to join them. The lamps were lit, the portraits of previous headmasters were snoring gently in their frames, and the Pensieve was ready upon the desk.

Dumbledore's hands lay on either side of the desk, the right one as blackened and burnt-looking as ever.

Looking up from her homework, Teddie met Dumbledore's gaze and cocked her head to the side. "Are you okay, Professor?" she asked.

"How are you finding your sixth year at school, Teddie?" Dumbledore asked. "After everything that has happened to you since coming here, I feel you're dealing with it better than most would."

Teddie looked thoughtful and then shrugged. "I guess having a good support system is step one," she said. "Mr friends keep me sane, at the best of times. And, I dunno, I guess, I just keep reminding myself that things could be worse."

"What is worse than losing your parents, may I ask?"

"Losing Mason?" Teddie suggested. "I loved my parents, very much. But, I still have Mason, at the end of the day. He's what keeps me going when things are dark. It's like you said in third year, Professor - Happiness can be found even in the darkest of times, if one remembers to turn on the light - Mason is my light."

Dumbledore smiled fondly. "He is, indeed, dear one," he murmured. "And, may I ask, how are you finding your sixth year in general?"

Teddie smiled. "I thought I would be suffocating with all the work, if I am honest, but dropping a few subjects and only taking the ones that I really need has helped me tons," she answered. "Being Professor Flitwick's assistant is also better than I expected. I'm learning so much from him."

"Filius tells me that you believe you are ready for… a promotion, I believe the Muggles call it," said Dumbledore. "You're climbing the educational ranks faster than expected Miss Green… and we couldn't be prouder. You are doing well for yourself."

"Thank you."

"Although, I am curious," said Dumbledore, leaning back and steepling his fingers in front of his face, pressing his fingers to his lips. He was silent for a moment, just staring at Teddie as she sat opposite him. "Mr Potter has enquired several times about my hand," he showed her the charred appendage. "But you don't seem all that fussed. Why is that?"

Teddie shrugged. "I just figure that you would tell us when you're ready," she said. "I may be a child, Professor, and a Slytherin, but I don't see myself as entitled. If something doesn't concern me, I tend to stay out of it."

Dumbledore raised an amused eyebrow.

"Well," Teddie added, grinning sheepishly. "Sometimes."

The door opened.

Both, Teddie, and Dumbledore looked around as Harry stumbled inside. "Sorry, I'm late," he panted, closing the door in his wake.

"Nonsense, Harry, we were just having a little chat," said Dumbledore, smiling pleasantly. "I heart you had a meeting with the Minister of Magic over Christmas?"

"Yes," said Harry. "He's not very happy with me."

Teddie furrowed her brow. "Why, what happened?" she asked.

"He wanted me to tell the Wizarding community that the Ministry has been doing a wonderful job."

"But they aren't," said Teddie.

"It was Fudge's idea originally, you know," said Dumbledore. "During his last days in office, when he was trying desperately to cling to his post, he sought a meeting with you, both," he added, "hoping that you would give him your support -"

"After everything he did last year?" Harry and Teddie both exploded.

"I told Cornelius there was no chance of it, but the idea did not die when he left office. Within hours of Scrimgeour's appointment we met, and he demanded that I arrange a meeting with you -"

"That is why you argued," Harry blurted out. "It was in the Daily Prophet."

"The Prophet has no bounds when it comes to gossip," said Teddie. "Look at the crap it keeps reiterating about me? I mean, sure, it's all true, but they're rehashing articles from last year because I refuse to give them anything new."

Dumbledore nodded. "It would seem that Rufus has found a way to corner you at last, Harry," he said.

"He came to see me back in August," said Teddie. "Him and Fudge. Tried to get me to do the same, and even went as far as to say that several mistakes were made last year."

"Mistakes?" Harry echoed.

Teddie nodded. "I told him that those 'mistakes' as he called them were his fault, his and Fudge's, and that I would help them set the story straight with the community. They made their mistakes, and they can clean them up, too," she said.

"Scrimgeour accused me of being Dumbledore's man through and through," said Harry.

"How very rude of him," said Dumbledore.

"I told him I was."

The corner of Dumbledore's lips tugged upwards, his eyes watering slightly. "I am touched, Harry," he said, softly but steady.

"Scrimgeour wanted to know where you go when you leave Hogwarts," Harry added.

"But that's none of his business!" Teddie protested.

"He is rather nosy about that," said Dumbledore, now sounding cheerful. "He has even attempted to have me followed. Amusing, really. He set Dawlish to tail me. It wasn't kind. I have already been forced to jinx Dawlish once. I did it again with the greatest regret."

"If someone was tailing me, and I caught them more than once, I wouldn't regret jinxing them," Teddie muttered.

Harry bit back a smile and nudged her.

Teddie looked up, meeting Dumbledore's gaze and noticing the amusement that twinkled behind his half-moon spectacles. "Sorry," she apologised.

"Is that your way of saying they still don't know where you go?" Harry asked.

"No, they don't, and the time is not quite right for you to know, either," said Dumbledore. "Now, I must insist we press on, unless there's anything else —?"

"There is, actually, sir," said Harry. "It's about Malfoy and Snape."

"Professor Snape," Dumbledore corrected, gently.

Teddie closed her homework book, careful to not smudge the ink of her essays, as Harry explained everything that had happened before Christmas break. By the time she had finished putting everything away, Harry had finished, and Dumbledore was sitting thoughtfully in his seat.

"Thank you for telling me this, Harry, but I suggest that you put it out of your mind. I do not think that it is of great importance," said Dumbledore.

"Not of great importance?" repeated Harry incredulously. "Professor, did you understand-?"

"Yes, Harry, blessed as I am with extraordinary brainpower, I understood everything you told me," said Dumbledore, a little sharply. "I think you might even consider the possibility that I understood more than you did. Again, I am glad that you have confided in me, but let me reassure you that you have not told me anything that causes me disquiet."

Teddie glanced at Harry. He was sitting on the perch of his seat, glaring at Dumbledore with a simmering anger in his eyes. She could only imagine what was going on inside his head - had Dumbledore sent Snape to find out about Malfoy, had Snape already told Dumbledore what he had learned - she couldn't help but let her mind wander to her own Christmas. Was this why Snape was at Flint manor? Had he told Dumbledore about their encounter?

"So, sir," said Harry, in what he hoped was a polite, calm voice, "you definitely still trust -?"

"Professor Snape?" Teddie interrupted, her own eyes narrowing… but at Harry, instead. "No offence, Harry, but your distrust of Professor Snape is misplaced. You accused him of trying to kill you during your first Quidditch match, you were wrong, you accused him of going after the Philosopher's Stone, you were wrong. Why can't you just trust him?"

"I'm surprised you trust him," said Harry, before he could help himself. "He set you up with a Muggle family that lead to them being murdered."

Teddie opened her mouth to argue, paused, and then closed it again. Tears appeared in her eyes, and she slumped in her chair, her body turning away from Harry as she did her best to force the tears not to fall.

"Ted, I'm -" Harry started, guilt bubbling in his stomach.

"Let us move on," said Dumbledore, steering the conversation out of dangerous waters. "We have more important things to discuss this evening. Unless, you believe what you have to say is more important that myself, Harry."

Harry looked startled. "Of course not, Professor!" he exclaimed.

"Well, you would be quite right," said Dumbledore. "What you have to say is not as important to me as what I have to say. I have two memories that I wish to show you this evening, both obtained with enormous difficulty, and the second of them is, I think, the most important I have collected."

Teddie sniffed from her seat, pulling her sleeve down over her hand and wiping her tears. When she looked up, she refused to meet Harry's gaze, despite him doing his best to catch it, and focused her entire attention on Dumbledore.

"What do you have to show us tonight, Professor?" Teddie asked.

"Tonight, we continue the tale of Tom Riddle, whom we left last lesson poised on the threshold of his years at Hogwarts. You will remember how excited he was to hear that he was a wizard, that he refused my company on the trip to Diagon Alley, and that I, in turn, warned him against continued thievery when he arrived at school."

Teddie nodded.

"Well, the start of the school year arrived and with it came Tom Riddle, a quiet boy in his second-hand robes, who lined up with the other first years to be sorted. He was placed in Slytherin House almost the moment that the Sorting Hat touched his head," continued Dumbledore, waving his blackened hand toward the shelf over his head where the Sorting Hat sat, ancient and unmoving. "How soon Riddle learned that the famous founder of the House could talk to snakes, I do not know - perhaps that very evening. The knowledge can only have excited him and increased his sense of self-importance."

"It excited me," admitted Teddie. "I mean, I didn't know that I could talk to snakes in my first year, but the idea of someone being able to speak a language that wasn't a human tongue, was fascinating. Then, obviously, the year after I found out that I could do it. It was still interesting, just, brought with it a whole new level of fear."

Harry nodded his agreement. Teddie was still refusing to meet his gaze, but he could still adhere to her sentiments.

"Well, however, if he was frightening or impressing fellow Slytherins with displays of Parseltongue in their common room, no hint of it reached the staff," said Dumbledore. "He showed no sign of outward arrogance or aggression at all. As an unusually talented and very good-looking orphan, he naturally drew attention and sympathy from the staff almost from the moment of his arrival. He seemed polite, quiet, and thirsty for knowledge. Nearly all were most favourably impressed by him."

"Didn't you tell them, sir, what he'd been like when you met him at the orphanage?" asked Harry.

"No, I did not. Though he had shown no hint of remorse, it was possible that he felt sorry for how he had behaved before and was resolved to turn over a fresh leaf. I chose to give him that chance."

"I'm all for second chances, Professor, but Tom Riddle had, without a doubt, hurt people in that orphanage, whether those kids were forthcoming about it didn't matter," said Teddie. "How could you have trusted around other children while at school?"

"Because he didn't," said Harry, staring at Dumbledore. "Remember what he said in the Chamber of Secrets? Just after he came out of the diary - Dumbledore never seemed to like me as much as the other teachers did'"

Teddie furrowed her brow. "If he was out of the diary at this point then I was probably unconscious," she said. "If he had the ability to leave the pages of the diary in a corporeal form, then that meant he was draining my energy and magic."

"Oh yeah," said Harry, although he was more thankful that she was looking at him, not just talking to him.

Dumbledore smiled at the pair. But was it because of the fact they were once again talking, or was it because they were observant of things that had happened four years ago? "Alas," he said, interrupting them, "I did not take it for granted that he was trustworthy. I had, as I have already indicated, resolved to keeping a close eye on him, and so I did. I cannot pretend that I gleaned a great deal from my observations at first. He was very guarded with me; he felt, I am sure, that in the thrill of discovering his identity he had told me a little too much. He was careful never to reveal as much again, but he could not take back what he had let slip in his excitement, nor what Mrs. Cole had confided in me. However, he had the sense never to try and charm me as he charmed so many of my colleagues."

"Is that what we're seeing this evening, Professor?" Teddie asked, her hands tightening around the arms of her seat. Why was she so eager to see into Tom Riddle's mind? "A memory from young Tom Riddle?"

Dumbledore looked cheerful. "I appreciate your enthusiasm, Teddie, but, I hesitant to say that your idea of the extent of my abilities is vastly overestimated," he said.

"I don't know about that, sir," said Teddie. "The title 'greatest wizard in the world' doesn't come from being underestimated."

Dumbledore chuckled. "Indeed, my dear," he said. "As, I was saying, as he moved up the school, he gathered about him a group of dedicated friends; I call them that, for want of a better term, although as I have already indicated, Riddle undoubtedly felt no affection for any of them. This group had a kind of dark glamour within the castle. They were a motley collection; a mixture of the weak seeking protection, the ambitious seeking some shared glory, and the thuggish gravitating toward a leader who could show them more refined forms of cruelty. In other words, they were the forerunners of the Death Eaters, and indeed some of them became the first Death Eaters after leaving Hogwarts."

"Yeah, because every impressionable young teenager wants to be in a band of merry killers when they leave school," Teddie muttered.

Harry bit the inside of her cheek to keep from smiling.

"A band of merry killers that were rigidly controlled by Riddle, I might add," said Dumbledore. Either he was immune to Teddie's biting sarcasm, or he was choosing to ignore it. Harry's money was on the latter. "They were never detected in open wrongdoing, although their seven years at Hogwarts were marked by several nasty incidents to which they were never satisfactorily linked, the most serious of which was, of course, the opening of the Chamber of Secrets, which resulted in the death of a girl. As you know, Hagrid was wrongly accused of that crime."

Harry glanced at Teddie.

Her eyes glazed as she stared at Dumbledore, her mouth hanging open as she took in his words, Teddie sat up straight and shrugged. "Right. My bad," she said. "Every impressionable teenager wants to be in a merry band of killers before they leave school. Gotcha."

Harry snorted as Dumbledore raised a questionable eyebrow at Teddie.

"Sorry," said Teddie, slouching in her seat. She drew her knees up to her chest, rested her chin on top of them, and stared at Dumbledore, waiting for him to continue.

"I have not been able to find many memories of Riddle at Hogwarts," said Dumbledore, placing his withered hand on the Pensieve. "Few who knew him then are prepared to talk about him; they are too terrified. What I know, I found out after he had left Hogwarts."

Teddie perked up, and for a second Harry thought she was going to come out with more biting sarcasm. However, she dropped her feet to the floor and leaned forward, pressing her hand against the edge of Dumbledore's desk. "Wait, the few who knew him?" she asked. "His… army… for the lack of a better word, is huge. The few that refused are probably a minority, what about the ones who boast about him all the time? Like the Malfoys, or Cyrus Nott? Surely you could've gotten them to gush about their master."

"You'd be pleasantly surprised to realise, Teddie, that so many of them did in fact talk with me," said Dumbledore. "What I learned from them was that Riddle was obsessed with his parentage.""

"Understandable," said Harry.

"Yeah, he wanted to know where he had come from," said Teddie. "Although, know that isn't always a good thing. I could've gone years without knowing who I really was."

"It would seem your fath -"

"Don't say it!" Teddie snapped at Harry.

"- Riddle," Harry hastened to finish. "Didn't share your sentiment."

"Hardly anyone ever does," said Teddie.

"If you remember," said Dumbledore, gently. "Believed that his father was the magical one?"

Harry and Teddie nodded.

"Riddle searched in vain for any signs of his father at Hogwarts - books, old school records, prefect lists, even the shields in the trophy rooms - eventually, he was forced to accept that Tom Riddle Snr had never stepped foot within these walls," said Dumbledore. "I believe, it was then that he dropped the name forever."

Teddie made a small murmur. "Why should he be associated with a name that wasn't great," she said. "There's that 'entitlement' again. If his father was a nobody, then he didn't want to risk being a nobody, either."

"After dropping Tom Riddle, he assumed the identity of Lord Voldemort," said Dumbledore, "and began is extensive investigations into his previously despised mother's family."

"But he only had a name to go on," said Harry.

"Sometimes that is all you need," said Teddie. "The summer before fifth year, Mason found so much information about the Sutherland family, it was hard to deny their existence. All he had were names."

"Your brother is an exceptional young wizard, Teddie," said Dumbledore.

"I'll make sure to tell him you said that, sir," said Teddie.

"But, yes, Harry, all Lord Voldemort had to go on during these investigations was a single name - Marvolo - which, he knew from those who ran the orphanage had been his mother's father's name. Finally, after painstaking research, through old books of Wizarding families, he discovered the existence of Slytherin's surviving line. In the summer of his sixteenth year, he left the orphanage to which he returned annually, and set off to his Gaunt relatives. And now…"

As Dumbledore stood, he motioned for Harry and Teddie to join him. He removed a swirling memory, encased within a glass vial from beneath his sleeve, and emptied its contents into the Pensieve.

"I was very lucky to collect this," said Dumbledore. "As you will understand when we have experienced it. Shall we?"

~X~

"You!"

"Stop!"

Teddie watched anxiously as the man skidded into a table, sending mouldy pots and pans crashing to the floor. He stared at Riddle, his red bleary eyes blinking in the dim light.

"You speak it?"

"Yes, I speak it." Riddle stepped further into the room, allowing the door to swing shut behind him.

The man drew himself, clumsily, up to his full height, and almost send himself headfirst into the wall as he stumbled.

"Where is Marvolo?"

"Dead. Died years ago, didn't he?"

Riddle frowned. "Then who are you?" he asked.

"I'm Morfin, ain't I?"

"Marvolo's son?"

"'Course I am, then…" Morfin pushed hair out of his face, the black-stoned ring glinting on his right hand. "I thought you was that Muggle. You look a lot like that Muggle."

"What Muggle?" Riddle asked, sharply.

"That Muggle what my sister took a fancy to, that Muggle what lives in the big house over the way," said Morfin, and he spat unexpectedly upon the floor between them. "You look right like him. Riddle. But he's older now, I'n'e? He's older'n you, now I think on it…"

Morfin looked dazed as he swayed on the spot. His hand clutching at the edge of the table for support.

"Riddle came back?" Voldemort asked. "Alone?"

"Ar, he left her, and serve her right, marrying filth!" said Morfin, spitting on the floor again. "Robbed us, mind, before she ran off. Where's the locket, eh, where's Slytherin's locket?"

Voldemort did not answer.

Morfin was working himself into a rage again; he brandished his knife and shouted, "Dishonoured us, she did, that little slut! And who're you, coming here and asking questions about all that? It's over, innit. . . it's over. . . "

He looked away, staggering slightly, and Voldemort moved forward. As he did so, an unnatural darkness fell, extinguishing Voldemort's lamp and Morfin's candle, extinguishing everything….

~X~

"What happened?" Teddie asked, landing back in Dumbledore's office.

"Why did it go black?" Harry asked.

"Because Morfin couldn't remember anything from that point onward," said Dumbledore. "When he awoke next morning, he was lying on the floor, quite alone. Marvolo's ring gone. Meanwhile, in the village of Little Hangleton, a maid was running along the High Street, screaming that there were three bodies lying in the drawing room of the big house: Tom Riddle Senior and his mother and father."

"I bet I can guess what happened," said Teddie.

Dumbledore nodded. "You can guess also that the Muggle authorities were very perplexed," he said, softly. "To this day, they do not know how the Riddles died. As you may know, the Avada Kedavra Curse does not usually leave any sign of damage."

"Except for me," said Harry, touching his scar,

Dumbledore set his gaze on the lightning bolt shape. "The Ministry, on the other hand, knew at once that this was a wizard's murder. They also knew that a convicted Muggle-hater lived across the valley from the Riddle house, a Muggle-hater who had already been imprisoned once for attacking one of the murdered people," he said.

"Let me guess, they didn't question him?" Teddie asked.

Dumbledore shook his head.

"Of course not, why would they?" Teddie asked, her hands clenching into fists. "He'd already exposed himself as a wizard to Muggles, spoken about them in a derogatory manner, and expressed a dislike for them in the past. Why bother trying to see if, maybe, just maybe, he was innocent this time."

"There was also the fact that he was the only wizard in Little Hangleton," said Harry.

Teddie turned sharpy to face him. "That doesn't mean he didn't deserve the benefit of the doubt," she argued. "I mean, yeah, if he did it then lock the psycho up for good, but at least give him a chance to defend himself. Just because someone's past fits the bill for a future crime, doesn't always mean they did it."

"You're defending him?"

"I hate injustice," said Teddie. "I'm not defending what Morfin did to Tom Riddle Snr, but I still don't believe he should've been punished for a crime he didn't commit."

"His wand proved that he had done it," said Dumbledore. He seemed mildly amused by Teddie's defence. "And, he had admitted to the murder. He gave details only the murderer could know, and he said he was quite proud of his actions."

"It's easy to modify someone's memory," Teddie retorted. "All you would need is to know how. Voldemort could've easily done that. He stole Morfin's wand after he passed out, committed the murders, then returned the Gaunt home, give Morfin back his wand, and configured his memories to fit his narrative. He then left the scene and let Morfin take the fall for his crime."

"Interesting theory, Teddie," said Dumbledore. He seemed proud. "Of course, we have no memories to show us this, so it is all just speculation."

"But you agree with me," said Teddie. "It's your belief, too."

"It is indeed," Dumbledore nodded. "The only thing that upset Morfin that day, though, was the fact that he couldn't remember what had happened to his father's ring. He muttered about it as he was hauled off to Azkaban, where he spent the remainder of his days."

"And Morfin never realised?" Harry asked, stunned.

"Never," said Dumbledore. "He gave, as I say, a full and boastful confession."

"But he had this real memory in him all the time!"

"And it took a great deal of skilled Legitimacy to coax it out of him," said Dumbledore.

"Plus, he had already confessed," said Teddie. "Why did deeper when the suspect had already confessed? How did you get this memory, though, Professor?"

"I was able to secure a visit to Morfin in the last weeks of his life, by which time I was attempting to discover as much as I could about Voldemort's past. I extracted this memory with difficulty. When I saw what it contained, I attempted to use it to secure Morfin's release from Azkaban. Before the Ministry reached their decision, however, Morfin had died," Dumbledore explained.

"But how come the Ministry didn't realize that Voldemort had done all that to Morfin?" Harry asked angrily. "He was underage at the time, wasn't he? I thought they could detect underage magic!"

"You are quite right-they can detect magic, but not the perpetrator: you will remember that you were blamed by the Ministry for the Hover Charm that was, in fact, cast by -"

"Dobby," growled Harry; this injustice still rankled. "So, if you're underage and you do magic inside an adult witch or wizard's house, the Ministry won't know?"

"Nope. They rely on witch and wizard parents to enforce their children's actions within the walls of their own house," said Teddie. "Mo and Ursula are pretty lenient with me, Mason, and Theo using magic outside of school, or rather it's just Mason now, both me and Theo are seventeen, but he is allowed to use it sometimes."

"Well, that's rubbish," snapped Harry. "Look what happened here, look what happened to Morfin!"

"I agree," said Dumbledore. "Whatever Morfin was, he did not deserve to die as he did, blamed for murders he had not committed. But it is getting late, and I want you to see this other memory before we part. . . "

Dumbledore took from an inside pocket another crystal phial and Harry fell silent at once, remembering that Dumbledore had said it was the most important one he had collected.

"This will not take long," said Dumbledore. "We shall be back before you know it. Once more into the Pensieve, then. . . "

~X~

The first thing Teddie recognised when she landed in the memory was, she was standing in the Potions Classroom at Hogwarts. A long table had been erected down the centre of the room, at the head of which sat a familiar looking Professor. A younger familiar looking Professor.

"Professor Slughorn," said Harry, landing beside Teddie.

"Indeed," confirmed Dumbledore.

Slughorn, Teddie noticed, had used to have thick, shiny, straw-coloured hair, and while she was used to seeing him quite balled these days, a rather large and shiny patch of hair was missing from the centre of his back. His moustache, less massive than it was these days, was gingery-blond, and he was not quite as rotund as the current Slughorn, though the golden buttons on his richly embroidered waistcoat were taking a fair amount of strain.

On the table beside Slughorn, was an open box of crystalised pineapple, while in his other hand he held the stem of a wine glass.

Along the table were half a dozen boys, all of whom were watching Slughorn in a careful silence.

"This is after Morfin's conviction," said Harry.

Teddie furrowed her brow at him. "How do you know?" she asked.

Harry pointed at the thick black and gold ring that adorned Tom Riddle's finger. He was the only boy out of the twelve that seemed the most relaxed to be in the current situation, he was tapping his fingers rhythmically on the arm of his chair, the ring catching the light of the fire nearby.

"Sir, is it true that Professor Merrythought is retiring?" Voldemort asked.

"Tom, Tom, if I knew I couldn't tell you," said Slughorn, wagging a reproving, sugar-covered finger at Riddle, though ruining the effect slightly by winking. "I must say, I'd like to know where you get your information, boy; more knowledgeable than half the staff, you are."

Riddle smiled; the other boys laughed and cast him admiring looks.

"What with your uncanny ability to know things you shouldn't, and your careful flattery of the people who matter-thank you for the pineapple, by the way, you're quite right, it is my favourite-"

As several of the boys tittered, something very odd happened. The whole room was suddenly filled with a thick white fog.

"What's happening?" Teddie asked, her voice unnaturally loud. She turned to Harry and Dumbledore. Before Dumbledore could answer her, Slughorn's voice rang out through the mist.

It, too, was unnaturally loud. "— You'll go wrong, boy, mark my words," it said.

The fog cleared as suddenly as it had appeared and yet nobody made any allusion to it, nor did anybody look as though anything unusual had just happened.

Bewildered, Harry looked around as a small golden clock standing upon Slughorn's desk chimed eleven o'clock. He nudged Teddie and, just as he was pointing it out to her, Slughorn spoke again.

"Good gracious, is it that time already?" said Slughorn. "You'd better get going, boys, or we'll all be in trouble. Lestrange, I want your essay by tomorrow or it's detention. Same goes for you, Sutherland."

Teddie gave a start as her grandfather - Emry Sutherland - stood from the table. He nodded at Slughorn, and then filed out of the room with the other boys in tow.

Voldemort, however, stayed behind. He dawdled deliberately, wanting to be last in the room with Slughorn.

"Look sharp, Tom," said Slughorn, turning around and finding him still present. "You don't want to be caught out of bed out of hours, and you a prefect. . . "

"Sir, I wanted to ask you something. "

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

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

And it happened all over again: the dense fog filled the room. Then Slughorn's voice boomed out again, just as it had done before.

"I don't know anything about Horcruxes, and I wouldn't tell you if I did! Now get out of here at once and don't let me catch you mentioning them again!"

"Well, that's that," said Dumbledore placidly. "Time to go."

"But -?"

~X~

Teddie blinked as she landed back in Dumbledore's office. She looked over at Harry and then around at Dumbledore.

"I thought this was the most important memory of all?" Harry asked. "I don't - I mean…"

"He's trying to ask, if it's the most important memory of all, why does it seem so insignificant?" Teddie asked. "Also, I have a question - why was it tampered?"

Harry stared, stunned. "Tampered?" he asked.

"Yes, Harry," Dumbledore confirmed. "Professor Slughorn has meddled with his own recollections."

"But why would he do that?"

"Because, I think, he is ashamed of what he remembers," said Dumbledore. "He has tried to rework the memory to show himself in a better light, obliterating those parts which he does not wish me to see. It is, as you will have noticed, very crudely done, and that is all to the good, for it shows that the true memory is still there beneath the alterations."

Teddie stared at Dumbledore. She sensed that there was more to this topic than he was letting on. Why had he shown them a memory he knew be altered, if he already knew that the real memory was buried somewhere deep in Slughorn's head?

"You didn't get this from Professor Slughorn like you did the other memories, did you, Professor?" Teddie asked.

"Quite observant, Teddie," said Dumbledore. "But no, I did not. Horace provided me with this memory himself, which is when, he tampered with it beforehand."

Teddie nodded. "Voldemort did something, didn't he?" she asked. "Created something, and he got the know-how from Professor Slughorn."

Dumbledore nodded.

"A Horcrux," Harry murmured. "What is it?"

Dumbledore shifted his gaze to Harry. "That, Harry, is what we must find out," he said. "Although, I must warn you, you will not find anything in the Hogwarts library about Horcruxes."

"Then how do you intend for us to find out?" Teddie asked.

"You must find a way to persuade Professor Slughorn to divulge the real memory," said Dumbledore. "I believe, undoubtedly, it will be our most crucial piece of information of all."

Harry blinked. "But surely, sir," he said, keeping his voice as respectful as possible, "you don't need us— you could use Legilimancy . . . or Veritaserum. . . "

"He'll be expecting that," said Teddie, also staring at Dumbledore. "You already asked him once for the memory, which is why he tampered with it in the first place. He isn't going to give it up without a fight, even if it is for a good cause."

"Precisely," said Dumbledore. "I believe, if we try to force it out of him, Horace may decide to leave Hogwarts, and I do not wish for him to do that. However, just like all of us, he has weaknesses."

"Weaknesses that we can exploit," said Teddie.

Dumbledore nodded. "I do believe that one, or both of you, could be his undoing," he said. "He seems enamoured by the pair of you, after all."

"You want us to use Slughorn's fascination with us to our advantage?" Harry asked, stunned.

"Are you sure you weren't a Slytherin, Professor?" Teddie asked, a teasing smile tugging at her lips.

Dumbledore chuckled. "I assure you, Teddie, I was not a Slytherin," he said.

Teddie shrugged. "This plan is going to take the right amount of cunning to complete," she said. "Cunning and recklessness. I guess it's a good thing you asked both a Slytherin and Gryffindor."

Harry stared at Teddie, slack jawed. "Hey!" he whined. "I'm not that reckless."

"Sure, and I'm not cunning, at all."

Dumbledore chuckled at the pair of them. "Fun aside, you must both remember, that it is with the utmost importance that we secure the true memory. How important, we will only know when we have seen the real thing. So, good luck and goodnight."

Dumbstruck at the abrupt dismissal, Harry stood and headed for the door.

"Goodnight, Professor," said Teddie, rushing after him.