Chapter Thirty One
Once again Harry felt the floor leave his feet and he fell through the darkness for a moment before his feet once again found solid ground.
Harry looked around the very familiar, brightly lit room. Slughorn's office had barely changed, it was still as plushy and comfortable as it was now but with a few less knick knacks and photos. Slughorn looked much younger as well.
He had thick, straw coloured hair, minus a galleon sized bald spot that had already started on the back of his head. His moustache was also smaller than it currently was, the same dull strawberry blond colour as his hair. Harry found it strangely disconcerting.
Slughorn was sitting in a large armchair, with a matching velvet foot stool. In one hand he held a glass of rich coloured red wine, the other was digging into a newly opened box of crystallised pineapple.
Harry recognised Tom Riddle at once, his stomach doing an uncomfortable jolt when he spotted Marvolo's heavy black ring sitting on Tom's hand; he'd already killed his father and doomed his uncle.
Tom was part of a group of half a dozen or so boys sitting around Slughorn. Harry noted that all of them were sitting on slightly lower and harder chairs that Slughorn was, meaning they all had to look up at him, shuffling every so often.
Tom looked by far the most comfortable of the students. He lounged happily on his chair, his arm leaning on the arm while he smiled lazily at Slughorn.
"Is it true that Professor Merrythought is retiring?" Tom asked.
Harry could tell that Tom cared very little about Professor Merrythought. It seemed more likely he just wanted to get Slughorn talking, or possibly was trying to suck up to him… or more likely still, both.
"Tom, Tom, if I knew I couldn't tell you." Said Slughorn with a small laugh, wagging a finger, covered in sugar, at Tom and giving him a small wink, "I must say, I'd like to know where you get your information, boy, more knowledgeable than half of the staff, you are."
Tom flashed Slughorn a beaming, mischievous smile while the other boys laughed and gave Tom admiring looks.
Slughorn popped another chunk of crystallised pineapple into his mouth and wiped his fingers on an intricate lace napkin, "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…"
Several of the boys laughed again, making approving noises and smiling at Tom and Slughorn; when something very strange happened.
The room was suddenly filled with a thick white fog, so that Harry could see nothing, apart from Dumbledore standing next to him.
Slughorn's voice filled the strange, white space. It was unnaturally loud and seemed to come from all around them at once, "You'll go wrong, boy, mark my words."
The fog cleared as suddenly as it had formed, leaving the room unchanged from before, the boys were still looking happily at Tom and Slughorn and Tom was still giving Slughorn his easy smile while Slughorn beamed down at him.
It was clear that no one else in the memory had heard Slughorn's booming sentence. The small golden clock on Slughorn's heavy wooden desk, the same one he was using in the present Harry noted, chimed eleven.
"Good gracious, is it that time already?" Slughorn said, looking around, "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, Avery."
Slughorn pulled himself, rather ungracefully, our of his armchair and walked over to his desk to sit his empty glass down as the boys filed out of the room.
Tom stood and stretched slowly, placing his hands lightly on the back of his chair, it was clear he was delaying leaving room until he and Slughorn were the only two left in the office.
"Look sharp, Tom." Slughorn said, turning around and finding Tom still there, "You don't want to be caught out of bed out of hours, and you a prefect…"
Tom gave him another dashing smile, "Sir, I wanted to ask you something."
"Ask away, then, m'boy, ask away…" Slughorn beamed.
"Sir, I wondered what you know about… about Horcruxes?" Tom asked, slowly, as though he was almost worried about the answer.
The fog filled the room once more.
Slughorn's voice boomed out once again, much louder than it had been even last time, "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 it." Dumbledore said simply, "Time to go."
Harry found himself back in the office and looked confused at the foggy memory still swirling in the pensive.
"There's no more?" Harry asked.
Dumbledore nodded, "Yes, well… as you might have noticed, that memory has been tampered with."
"Tampered with?" Harry repeated, "The fog, smoke, stuff?"
"Correct." Dumbledore said, flashing Harry a smile.
"Why?" Harry asked, already knowing the answer deep down, something Slughorn said made him ashamed now, very ashamed for him to lie to Dumbledore.
"I think he is ashamed of what he remembers." Dumbledore said, saying what was going through Harry's mind, "Horace has tried to rework the memory, to show himself in a somewhat better light. Pretending the bits he doesn't want people to see never happened."
"It wasn't done very well." Harry said, wrinkling his nose, "He didn't exactly put a lot of effort into it."
"It was done very crudely but that is a good sign for us, Harry. I means the true memory, what really happened is still in there, beneath the alterations." Dumbledore said.
He looked at Harry carefully, gazing at him up and down for a moment, studying him. Harry shifted in his seat, feeling a little uncomfortable under the intense scrutiny.
"And so…" Dumbledore said, pulling his eyes away and breaking the silence, "for the first time, I am giving you homework, of a sort. I need you to persuade Professor Slughorn to give us, to give you, the real memory. It will undoubtedly be our most crucial piece of information for the coming times."
Harry stared at him in disbelief, "I…" he struggled to keep his voice steady, "Surely sir, you don't need me, you could use Legilmency… or Veritaserum?"
Dumbledore shook his head, "Professor Slughorn is too intelligent for either of those methods to work. He is rather accomplished at Occlumency, far more than Morfin Gaunt and someone of his level will naturally be carrying an antidote to Veritaserum. Professor Snape carries one after all, does he not?"
Harry nodded, disappointed in himself he'd not thought the argument though, "The thing is, Sir, surely, Professor Slughorn respects you much more than he does me… why do you think he will hand it over to me if he was refusing to tell you?"
"You are failing to look at the bigger picture Harry," Dumbledore said, kindly enough but very firmly, "Professor Slughorn respects me, it is true, but as we saw this evening this respect hasn't been enough to persuade him to give me the real memory. Horace does have a weakness though, as do we all, and I think you, Harry and his need to collect you is the one thing that may allow us the real memory."
Harry wasn't sure what to say, it seemed an impossible task before him. A part of his mind wondered if Dumbledore knew it was impossible and he wanted to test Harry in some way. There had to be an easier way to get this memory after all, if it was even so important.
"Is this why you asked Professor Slughorn to come back to teach this year?" Harry asked, "The reason why you finally promoted Dad?"
Dumbledore looked at him, giving him another smile that just didn't quite reach his eyes, "What a peculiar thing to say, Harry."
"I didn't mean…" Harry wasn't sure how what he'd said could have been classed as being rude but whatever it was, clearly it was the wrong thing to say.
"Your father is a brilliant Potions Master but he is also very skilled in the Defence Against the Dark Arts and he has wanted the job for many years. Slughorn was due to come and teach last year, if you remember? Professor Umbridge blocked his return as Slughorn delayed sending back the correct paperwork." Dumbledore said, still smiling, "So I thought why not give Severus the job he has always wanted, and allow us to keep Slughorn a little closer, until we get all of this sorted out. And now it is late. Goodnight Harry."
"But Sir-"
"Goodnight Harry." Dumbledore said again, still calmly but once again forcefully.
Harry nodded and stood up, "Goodnight Professor."
Harry couldn't pretend he wasn't frustrated with being dismissed so abruptly when Dumbledore knew that he wanted to say something. Memories were very personal and Harry was sure that Dumbledore could get the memory if he wanted to, but why was it so important?
The corridors were empty as Harry walked back to the common room. He was sure he would never get used to the cold that seemed to creep out of the walls of the castle once everyone was in bed, it was a cold that just wasn't there when the school was bustling with life.
"Harry?"
Severus's voice rang out through the corridor. Harry spun round to see his father, standing rather sleepily in the doorway of his office, a black dressing gown wrapped tightly around him.
"What on earth are you doing up at this hour?" Severus asked.
"I had a lesson with Dumbledore." Harry told him, "I was just on my way to bed now."
"Is that why you look so confused?" Severus asked with a grin.
Harry smirked, "Well, they always give me a lot to think about."
"Would you like to come in a talk about it?" Severus offered, gesturing to his office.
Harry wanted to say yes, "I would, but my friends will be waiting up for me, they always do." Harry explained, a comforting warmth spreading though him at the thought of so many people waiting for him, for no other reason than they wanted to.
Severus took a step forward and sealed the office door behind him, "I'll walk with you."
Harry was grateful to have Severus with him as he made his way to the Slytherin common room. His father didn't say anything, just walking side by side listening to one another's footsteps.
The portrait that guarded the Slytherin common room opened at Severus's touch, he didn't need to even give the password.
Draco, Daphne and Pansy were, as Harry had expected, still sitting around the table by the fire talking quietly. Daphne had her nose buried in a book while Pansy and Draco were playing chess. They saw Harry arriving back and gave him a smile.
"Professor Snape? Is everything OK?" Pansy asked, looking over.
Severus nodded, "Yes, yes. I just saw Harry walking by my office and thought I would walk with him."
"My head was a bit scrambled after the lesson with Dumbledore." Harry explained.
Draco shuffled over slightly so there was room for Harry on the sofa next to him and Severus could sit in the free armchair. Harry sat gratefully, settling back into the warm leather.
"So, what happened?" Daphne asked, handing Harry a mug of hot tea.
"More memories." Harry sighed, "Tom knew this girl, Maggie, when he was little. She was in the orphanage with him and basically raised him. He would go home every summer, mostly just to see her I think, but he went back sixth year summer and she'd had a baby. He freaked, said she'd abandoned him."
"Was she too busy for him or something?" Pansy asked.
Harry shook his head, "No. She was still really sweet to him. He just got really upset."
Daphne curled her legs underneath her, "I mean, I know it was hard when younger siblings come along but I love Astoria."
"I get that he was upset just… I don't get why he was so upset, you know?" Draco frowned, "You'd know how he was feeling Harry?"
Harry blinked, "What do you mean I'd know?"
Draco looked wide eyed at Harry, clearly regretting speaking before thinking, "I just mean… you had your mum and then…" he looked awkwardly between Harry and Severus, "I mean…"
"Danica?" Harry asked, a sickening feeling in his stomach.
"It's different… though… isn't it?" Pansy said, also curling her legs up, looking worriedly between Harry and Draco.
Harry blinked, his mind racing faster than he could keep up, "No, I guess it's not all that different…"
"Harry?" Severus asked, slightly worried.
"I love Danica, totally, but… but there is a connection really." Harry leaned back in the sofa, before shaking his head and forced a smile, "It's just a weird memory to show me, I guess."
Severus looked worriedly at Harry but didn't say anything, Harry wouldn't thank him for pushing in front of his friends.
"What else did he show you?" Daphne asked.
"Tom killing his father, not actually when it happened but just before and then…" Harry wasn't sure if he should tell them about his homework. He thought about it for a moment before deciding that they had a right to know, and he could well need their help, "he showed me a memory of a younger Slughorn and Voldemort while he was at school."
"That must have been so weird." Draco said, "Young Slughorn, what was he like?"
"Pretty much the same as he is now." Harry smirked, "Just with blond-ish hair and less of a moustache."
"That's such a weird thought." Pansy said, picturing the younger Slughorn.
"The memory was broken though." Harry tired to explain, "He'd altered it, it wasn't the truth."
"So why did Dumbledore bother to show it to you?" Pansy asked.
Harry drained the last of his tea and set the mug on the table, "He wants me to get Slughorn to give us the real memory."
"Harry… that's going to be a very difficult task." Severus frowned, "Memories are very personal."
Harry sighed, "Yeah, tell me about it." he thought about seeing McGonagall's memories, and his mother's without asking and how bad he felt about breaking their privacy, "I don't even know where to start."
"Well… he is very fond of you." Daphne shrugged, "Maybe you could just sort of… guilt him into it?"
It was an idea, although Harry wasn't sure it was a very good one. The clock chimed loudly on the mantle piece.
"I think we should be getting to bed." Severus said, "Harry will you walk me out?"
Harry nodded and stood up, walking over to the door with Severus.
"You don't have to try and get the memory if you don't want." Severus said quietly.
"Dumbledore seems to think we really need it though." Harry said awkwardly.
Severus nodded, giving him a tight smile, "I understand that, but you don't have to. You know that?"
Harry nodded, "I just want to be prepared. Everything feels… it's like I have no control at the moment."
Severus smoothed down Harry's unruly hair, "Trust yourself Harry, you have good instincts."
Harry smiled, "Thanks Dad."
"Now, off to bed."
Harry hugged Severus good bye and followed Draco up the stairs. They changed quietly and climbed into bed.
"I didn't mean to upset you Harry, with the comment about Danica." Draco said quietly.
Harry gave him a friendly smile, "You didn't."
"It just seemed to get to you a bit?" Draco said.
Harry lay back in the bed and took a deep breath, "It wasn't that you upset me. It's just… doesn't it feel a bit weird that Dumbledore made such a big point of it? First it was how alone Tom was, never had a real friend, that his parents abandoned him, one of them through dying. And then the person he thought of as a parent had a baby, also abandoning him, passing him over…"
"Oh gods…" Draco said, sitting up.
Harry nodded, "Exactly. On paper we're just the same but… not."
"Just remember the 'but not' bit." Draco said firmly, flopping back into his bed, "You have friends, lots of us and a family who really loves you. Gods help anyone who Danica went after." he said, snorting a laugh.
Harry grinned and lay back in bed, "I know. I never forgot it."