Eternal /Drarry/

Chapter 17: Horcruxes

A/N: hello! As you may have seen, I have published two new stories. I didn't plan on publishing them so soon, but oh well. One is a drarry, and the other is a StanleyXBill fic from the new IT movie! I hope to see you guys over there, and I hope you enjoy them! This chapter is short, but the next one will be... interesting, and probably informative.

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter.

Darkness had fallen long ago on the grounds of Hogwarts. The castle looked eerie, a full moon casting an elongated shadow across the grounds that forced the Forbidden Forest into blackness. A few tentacles rose from the Black Lake every now and again, the moonlight rippling on the water's surface.

Dumbledore's office was quiet. A few of the portraits were snoring quietly, some of them empty of their inhabitants. A magical clock ticked away, some small magical trinkets whirring away and making strange noises.

The headmaster was sitting at his desk, fingers steepled under his chin. A frown was set onto his features, misty blue eyes glassed over, deep in thought.

His train of thought was abruptly shattered as a cloud of black smoke flew into the room. For a moment brief panic flared through the wizened old wizard, as the knowledge that death eaters often travelled as black clouds of smoke found its way to the front of his mind. His anxiety was quelled as the ominous black cloud morphed into the humanoid form of one of his students.

Harry stood in the centre of the office, hardly missing a beat as he strode forward. He reached into his pocket, and pulled out a small crystal phial, white wisps swirling inside of it. "I got it."

Harry had never seen a man of such old age move so quickly, Dumbledore standing up as if someone had lit a fire under his chair. He hurried over to where the Pensieve was kept, long periwinkle blue robes swishing out behind him.

"Wait, shouldn't we get Draco, Newt and Credence?" Harry asked, following the man towards the large basin.

"We don't have time," Dumbledore replied, taking the phial from Harry and pushing his half moon spectacles further up his crooked nose. "This is urgent."

Harry frowned, but didn't question Dumbledore's judgement. He watched as the ethereal contents of the phial were poured into the basin, seeing a scene beginning to form below it. His scarlet eyes flickered up to meet those of Dumbledore's, before he plunged his head into the basin.

******

Once again, they stood in the previous office of Horace Slughorn. Everything was as it had been during the last, tampered memory they'd viewed it in.

He was sitting on a couch in front of the fire, one hand holding a glass of mead, the other searching through a nearly empty box of crystallised pineapple, watching the flames crackle. A knock came on the door. "Come in!" Slughorn called.

The door opened, revealing the tall and slender form of Tom a Riddle leaning against the doorframe. His hair was neat, skin unblemished, clothes clean and expensive looking. He was, in every way, the perfect looking young man.

"Ah, Tom," Slughorn quickly recognised the boy with evident happiness, inviting him inside with a wave of his hand. "Look sharp. Wouldn't want to get caught out of bed at this hour, you're a prefect after all..."

Harry's eyes flickered towards a magically operated clock on the wall, much like the one that stood in Dumbledore's office. It was a little past midnight, the open window giving a view of the dark, midnight blue sky outside.

"Of course," Tom replied nonchalantly, stepping into the room and closing the door. He paused for a few seconds, a small frown crossing his features. His next words seemed rehearsed, as if he'd practiced them many times before. "You see, sir, I couldn't sleep. I wanted to ask you something."