"So Snape was offering to help him? He was definitely offering to help him?" Ron asked.
"If you ask that once more," said Harry, "I'm going to stick this sprout —"
"I'm only checking!" said Ron.
Harry, Ron and I were standing alone at the Burrow's kitchen sink, peeling a mountain of sprouts for Mrs. Weasley. Snow was drifting past the window in front of us.
"Yes, Snape was offering to help him!" said Harry. "He said he'd promised Malfoy's mother to protect him, that he'd made an Unbreakable Oath or something —"
"An Unbreakable Vow?" said Ron, looking stunned. "Nah, he can't have... Are you sure?"
"Yes, I'm sure," said Harry.
"Why, what does it mean?" I asked.
"Well, you can't break an Unbreakable Vow..."
"I'd worked that much out for myself, funnily enough. What happens if you break it, then?" Harry asked.
"You die," said Ron simply. "Fred and George tried to get me to make one when I was about five. I nearly did too, I was holding hands with Fred and everything when Dad found us. He went mental," said Ron, with a reminiscent gleam in his eyes. "Only time I've ever seen Dad as angry as Mum. Fred reckons his left but- tock has never been the same since."
"Yeah, well, passing over Fred's left buttock —"
"I beg your pardon?" said Fred's voice as the twins entered the kitchen. I beamed immediately as George walked over to me and gave me a kiss on the head. Of course, we had already said 'hello' to each other extensively.
"Aaah, George, look at this. They're using knives and everything. Bless them."
"I'll be seventeen in two and a bit months' time," said Ron grumpily, "and then I'll be able to do it by magic!"
"But meanwhile," said George, sitting down at the kitchen table and putting his feet up on it, "we can enjoy watching you demonstrate the correct use of a — whoops-a-daisy!"
"You made me do that!" said Ron angrily, as I laughed, sucking his cut thumb. "You wait, when I'm seventeen —"
"I'm sure you'll dazzle us all with hitherto unsuspected magical skills," yawned Fred.
"And speaking of hitherto unsuspected skills, Ronald," said George, "what is this we hear from Ginny and Liana about you and a young lady called — unless our information is faulty — Lucy?"
Ron turned a little pink, but did not look displeased as he turned back to the sprouts.
"Mind your own business."
"What a snappy retort," said Fred. "I really don't know how you think of them. No, what we wanted to know was... how did it happen?"
"What d'you mean?"
"Did she have an accident or something?"
"What?"
"Well, how did she sustain such extensive brain damage? Careful, now!"
Mrs. Weasley entered the room just in time to see Ron throw the sprout knife at Fred, who had turned it into a paper airplane with one lazy flick of his wand.
"Ron!" she said furiously. "Don't you ever let me see you throwing knives again!"
"I won't," said Ron, "let you see," he added under his breath, as he turned back to the sprout mountain.
"Fred, George, Liana, I'm sorry, dears, but Remus is arriving tonight, so Bill will have to squeeze in with you three."
"No problem," said George and grinned at me. Mrs. Weasley had finally allowed George and me to share one bed, since we were all too cramped up to find other sleeping spots, anyway.
"Then, as Charlie isn't coming home, that just leaves Harry and Ron in the attic, and if Fleur shares with Lucy and Ginny —"
"— that'll make Ginny's Christmas —" muttered Fred.
"— everyone should be comfortable. Well, they'll have a bed, anyway," said Mrs. Weasley, sounding slightly harassed.
"Percy definitely not showing his ugly face, then?" asked Fred.
Mrs. Weasley turned away before she answered.
"No, he's busy, I expect, at the Ministry."
"Or he's the world's biggest prat," said Fred, as Mrs. Weasley left the kitchen. "One of the two. Well, let's get going, then, George."
"What are you two up to?" I asked.
"Can't you help us with these sprouts? You could just use your wand and then we'll be free
too!" Ron said.
"No, I don't think we can do that," said Fred seriously. "It's very character-building stuff, learning to peel sprouts without magic, makes you appreciate how difficult it is for Muggles and Squibs —"
"— and if you want people to help you, Ron," added George, throwing the paper airplane at him, "I wouldn't chuck knives at them. Just a little hint. We're off to the village, there's a very pretty girl working in the paper shop who thinks my card tricks are something marvelous... almost like real magic... Just kidding, Liana..."
I had thrown him a scornful look at which he almost winced. I hit his arm and he gave me a quick peck on the cheek, leaving the room with Fred.
"Gits," said Ron darkly, watching Fred and George setting off across the snowy yard.
"Would've only taken them ten seconds and then we could've gone too."
"Liana and I couldn't," said Harry. "We promised Dumbledore we wouldn't wander off while we're staying here."
"Oh yeah," said Ron. He peeled a few more sprouts and then said, "Are you going to tell Dumbledore what you heard Snape and Malfoy saying to each other, Harry?"
"Yep," said Harry. "I'm going to tell anyone who can put a stop to it, and Dumbledore's top of the list. I might have another word with your dad too."
"Pity you didn't hear what Malfoy's actually doing, though."
"I couldn't have done, could I? That was the whole point, he was refusing to tell Snape."
There was silence for a moment or two, then Ron said, " 'Course, you know what they'll all say? Dad and Dumbledore and all of them? They'll say Snape isn't really trying to help Malfoy, he was just trying to find out what Malfoy's up to."
"Of course he was!" I said, scowling. "Dumbledore fully trusts Professor Snape! He wouldn't dare make Dumbledore regret that!"
"You didn't hear him!" said Harry. "No one's that good an actor, not even Snape."
Harry turned to face Ron, frowning.
"You think I'm right, though?"
"Yeah, I do!" said Ron hastily. "Seriously, I do! But they're all convinced Snape's in the Order, aren't they?"
I snorted again and Harry said nothing.
"Won-Won!" Lucy said, running in and throwing her arms around Ron. "Mrs. Weasley asked if you three come to the living room."
Harry and I quickly left, not wanting to linger any longer with those two.
But to our surprise, Ron and Lucy entered the living room after a few minutes, Ron's ears bright red and both their expressions disgruntled.
The Weasleys and their guests were sitting in the living room, which Ginny had decorated so lavishly that it was rather like sitting in a paper-chain explosion. Fred, George, Harry, Rowan, Ron and I were the only ones who knew that the angel on top of the tree was actually a garden gnome that had bitten Fred on the ankle as he pulled up carrots for Christmas dinner. Stupefied, painted gold, stuffed into a miniature tutu and with small wings glued to its back, it glowered down at us all, the ugliest angel I had ever seen, with a large bald head like a potato and rather hairy feet.
We were all supposed to be listening to a Christmas broadcast by Mrs. Weasley's favorite singer, Celestina Warbeck, whose voice was warbling out of the large wooden wireless set. Fleur, who seemed to find Celestina very dull, was talking so loudly in the corner that a scowling Mrs. Weasley kept pointing her wand at the volume control, so that Celestina grew louder and louder. Under cover of a particularly jazzy number called "A Cauldron Full of Hot, Strong Love," Fred and George started a game of Exploding Snap with Ginny and me. Ron and Lucy kept shooting Bill and Fleur covert looks, as though hoping to pick up tips, Rowan looking completely the other way.
Meanwhile, Remus Lupin, who was thinner and more ragged-looking than ever, was sitting beside the fire, staring into its depths as though he could not hear Celestina's voice.
Oh, come and stir my cauldron,
And if you do it right,
I'll boil you up some hot strong love
To keep you warm tonight.
"We danced to this when we were eighteen!" said Mrs. Weasley, wiping her eyes on her knitting. "Do you remember, Arthur?"
"Mphf?" said Mr. Weasley, whose head had been nodding over the satsuma he was peeling. "Oh yes... marvelous tune..."
With an effort, he sat up a little straighter and looked around at Harry, who was sitting next to him.
Harry was talking to him and Lupin, no doubt telling them about the conversation between Professor Snape and Malfoy he had overheard. I still didn't believe Professor Snape would help Malfoy with whatever he was doing. I was certain he was only trying to get out information.
"What's on your mind, Liana?" George muttered into my ear and I started.
"Just thinking..." I said, leaning back into his chest.
Ron, Lucy, Harry and Ginny decided to go to bed a little early and went upstairs half an hour later.
"So how is Hogwarts lately?" George asked, fumbling with my hand absentmindedly. "Any other developments except for the ones you had written to me?"
I shook my head.
"Hermione and Ron are still angry with each other and Lucy and Rowan still don't talk to each other," I told him and he sighed.
"Children can be so stupid sometimes."
"I'm not a child!" I said, laughing and hit his arm lightly.
"You know," I continued on a more serious note, "I think Lucy is rushing things a little. I don't think she and Ron ever talk; they just snog all the time and I think Ginny fired Ron up a little in their argument. He seemed eager to show her that he has joined the real 'snogging phase', too."
"That's Ron," George said, grinning. "He really likes to exhaggerate a lot, the little git."
"Rowan has taken over your Beater position, you know," I said, suddenly thinking about that.
"He has?" George said, frowning. "I hope the others haven't forgotten us."
"Of course they haven't," I said. "There's still a small piece of swamp somewhere in the castle that Professor Flitwick left as a memorial to you two."
George seemed very pleased with that and I grabbed my glass of water.
"You know, it would be really nice to see you two married," Mrs. Weasley said, walking in and beaming at George and me.
I almost choked in my water.
"M-married?" I said, coughing. Mrs. Weasley nodded eagerly and George laughed.
"B-but I'm only sixteen!"
"You are off age if you are seventeen, Liana," Mrs. Weasley told me. "That means you are also allowed to legally marry at seventeen."
She looked at George and me expectedly and left the room.
"Marry..." I whispered, still finding it very odd.
George laughed.
"Don't worry, love. I won't do anything you don't like," he told me, making me smile.
"I know," I said and began to close in.
Just before our lips met, I saw a colours of bright orange and yellow lightening up the Burrow and the room in which George and I were sitting.
I quickly turned around and saw a gigantic ring of fire surrounding the Burrow. Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, who were standing in the doorway with Tonks and Lupin, looked startled and alert, drawing out their wands.
George and I got up and saw through the window, a trail of thick, black smoke nearing the Burrow. It reminded me of something.
The trail of smoke landed on the ground, near the edge of the ring of fire and I saw Bellatrix Lestrange emerge from it.
My heart filled with hatred. She had killed Sirius!
Suddenly, I heard someone running down the stairs and saw Harry, who immediately ran to the doorway, rushed past Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, Tonks and Lupin and ran after Bellatrix, who ran away into the large field of high grass behind the ring of fire, which magically seemed to part for her and Harry to go through.
"Harry, no!" Mr. Weasley said and Mrs. Weasley covered her mouth with her hands.
Before George could stop me, I ran through the doorway, after Harry, my wand clutched tightly in my hand and George, Mr. and Mrs. Weasley and Tonks and Lupin shouting after me.
"I killed Sirius Black! I killed Sirius Black!" I heard Bellatrix sing happily through the tall strands of grass, which only maddened me even more. She laughed madly and I could hear Harry's footsteps not too far away from me.
"You coming to get me?" Bellatrix yelled and laughed again. I still didn't see her.
I began to pant heavily. I was running very hard and my I was running out of breath.
Finally, I reached an open spot in the field, which was drenched with mud and some water on the ground.
I heard footsteps and turned around.
"Harry?" I asked fearfully as I watched the blades of grass in front of me move away.
A tall-looking man with broad shoulders and a grim look stepped toward me. He had a animalistic look on his face and I immediately recognised him from the wanted posters: Fenrir Greyback.
Fenrir Greyback smirked at me, a creepy, mad smirk, showing me his sharp, yellow teeth.
I took a few steps back, my breathing becoming heavier and heavier.
"Liana!"
George came running over, his wand raised, stood in front of me protectively.
"Stupefy!" he yelled at Fenrir Greyback, whom avoided it easily with a Shielding Charm.
Greyback smirked even wider and vanished into a thick, plume of smoke, which quickly sped away with a loud crack.
George and I stepped back, onto the middle of the open spot, as Harry and Ginny suddenly joined us, making me jump.
We all held out our wands now, George still holding onto my arm protectively.
I heard them running everywhere. I didn't know how many Death Eaters there were, but they Disapparated and Apparated everywhere, running a few steps before Disapparating again. We all turned at every sound we heard, the wind howling around us not making it easier.
"Harry! Liana!" I heard Mr. Weasley yell from somewhere and hell seemed to break loose.
There were spells everywhere. The Death Eaters shot them at George, Ginny, Harry and me from in the field of grass, making it impossible for us to predict from which direction the next spell would come.
Instead, we each faced another direction and blocked the spells our Shielding Charms, occasionally shooting a few spells back blindly into the grass.
"Ginny! George!" I heard Mr. Weasley yell and they were suddenly next to us: Mr. Weasley, Tonks and Lupin.
They went to stand in front of us four protectively, wands raised and arms spread and the Death Eaters stopped throwing hexes and curses at us.
We heard a loud crack again and looked up to see one of the streaks of black smoke rising up and speeding off. Another three plumes of smoke joined the first one and they all sped to the Burrow, flying right through it and making it explode and burn like they had done to the orphanage. Mr. Weasley, Tonks, Lupin, Harry, Ginny, George and I looked at the burning Burrow horrifiedly.
"Molly..." Mr. Weasley whispered and, ignoring us, dashed back to the Burrow. The rest of us followed him, hoping with all our might that the others had gone back out in time.
I was glad to find Mrs. Weasley, Bill, Fleur, Ron, Lucy, Hermione and Fred standing outside, looking at the big flames that were now eating up the Weasleys' home.
Mr. Weasley threw his arm around Mrs. Weasley's shoulder, who was staring at her home, looking completely thunder-struck and I grabbed George's hand.
• • •
"You should realise who you are Harry and Liana. It was really reckless of you, running after Bellatrix Lestrange like that," Hermione said, frowning. She was reading the article in the Daily Prophet about what had happened at the Burrow.
Harry, Lucy, Ron and I were only just back. Hermione, of course, had immediately flung into Harry's and my arms, telling us how worried she had been. She was completely ignoring Ron and Lucy's presence, who seemed to not snog for a change.
The new term started next morning with a pleasant surprise for the sixth years: a large sign had been pinned to the common room notice boards overnight.
APPARITION LESSONS
If you are seventeen years of age, or will turn seventeen on or before the 31st August next, you are eligible for a twelve-week course of Apparition Lessons from a Ministry of Magic Apparition instructor. Please sign below if you would like to participate. Cost: 12 Galleons.
Harry, Rowan, Ron and I joined the crowd that was jostling around the notice and taking it in turns to write their names at the bottom.
"So — Apparition," said Ron when we made our way to the Great Hall after Ron and Rowan had put their names on the list. "Should be a laugh, eh?"
"I dunno," said Harry. "Maybe it's better when you do it yourself, I didn't enjoy it much when Dumbledore took me along for the ride."
"I forgot you'd already done it... I'd better pass my test first time," said Ron, looking anxious. "Fred and George did."
"Charlie failed, though, didn't he?" I asked.
"Yeah, but Charlie's bigger than me" — Ron held his arms out from his body as though he was a gorilla — "so Fred and George didn't go on about it much... not to his face anyway..."
"When can we take the actual test?" Rowan asked.
"Soon as we're seventeen. That's only March for me!" Ron answered.
"Yeah, but you wouldn't be able to Apparate in here, not in the castle..." Harry said.
"Not the point, is it? Everyone would know I could Apparate if I wanted," Ron told him.
Ron and Rowan were not the only ones to be excited at the prospect of Apparition. All that day there was much talk about the forthcoming lessons; a great deal of store was set by being able to vanish and reappear at will.
"How cool will it be when we can just —" Seamus clicked his fingers to indicate disappearance. "Me cousin Fergus does it just to annoy me, you wait till I can do it back... He'll never have another peaceful moment..."
Lost in visions of this happy prospect, he flicked his wand a little too enthusiastically, so that instead of producing the fountain of pure water that was the object of today's Charms lesson, he let out a hoselike jet that ricocheted off the ceiling and knocked Professor Flitwick flat on his face.
"Harry, Liana and Luce have already Apparated," Ron told a slightly abashed Seamus, after Professor Flitwick had dried himself off with a wave of his wand and set Seamus lines: "I am a wizard, not a baboon brandishing a stick."
"Dum — er — someone took them. Side-Along- Apparition, you know."
"Whoa!" whispered Seamus, and he, Dean, and Neville put their heads a little closer to hear what Apparition felt like. For the rest of the day, Harry and I were besieged with requests from the other sixth years to describe the sensation of Apparition. All of them seemed awed, rather than put off, when we told them how uncomfortable it was, and we were still answering detailed questions at ten to eight that evening, when we were forced to lie and say that we needed to return a book to the library, so as to escape in time for our lesson with Dumbledore.
The lamps in Dumbledore's office were lit, the portraits of previous headmasters were snoring gently in their frames, and the Pensieve was ready upon the desk once more. Dumbledore's hands lay on either side of it, the right one as blackened and burnt-looking as ever. It did not seem to have healed at all and I wondered, for perhaps the hundredth time, what had caused such a distinctive injury, but did not ask; Dumbledore had said that Harry and I would know eventually.
"Is there something you want to tell me, Harry?" Dumbledore asked, looking at Harry cheefully, who was indeed looking as though there was something on his mind.
"There is, actually, sir," said Harry. "It's about Malfoy and Snape."
"Professor Snape, Harry."
"Yes, sir. I overheard them during Professor Slughorn's party... well, I followed them, actually..."
Dumbledore listened to Harry's story with an impassive face.
When Harry had finished he did not speak for a few moments, then said, "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."
"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."
Harry and I sat in seething silence, glaring at Dumbledore. What was going on? Did this mean that Dumbledore had indeed ordered Professor Snape to find out what Malfoy was doing, in which case he had already heard everything Harry had just told him from Professor Snape? Or was he really worried by what he had heard, but pretending not to be?
"So, sir," said Harry, in what he hoped was a polite, calm voice, "you definitely still trust — ?"
"I have been tolerant enough to answer that question already," said Dumbledore, but he did not sound very tolerant anymore. "My answer has not changed."
"I should think not," said a snide voice; Phineas Nigellus was evidently only pretending to be asleep. Dumbledore ignored him.
"And now, Harry and Liana, I must insist that we press on. I have more important things to discuss with you this evening."
Dumbledore shook his head, looking at Harry.
"Ah, Harry, how often this happens, even between the best of friends! Each of us believes that what he has to say is much more important than anything the other might have to contribute!"
"I don't think what you've got to say is unimportant, sir," said Harry stiffly.
"Exactly," I said.
"Well, you are quite right, because it is not," said Dumbledore briskly. "I have two more memories to show you this evening, both obtained with enormous difficulty, and the second of them is, I think, the most important I have collected."
Harry and I did not say anything at this.
"So," said Dumbledore, in a ringing voice, "we meet this evening to 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 a trip to Diagon Alley, and that I, in turn, warned him against continued thievery when he arrived at school.
"Well, the start of the school year arrived and with it came Tom Riddle, a quiet boy in his secondhand 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.
"However, if he was frightening or impressing fellow Slytherins with displays of Parseltongue in their common room, no hint of it reached the staff. 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?" I asked.
"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."
Dumbledore paused and looked inquiringly at Harry and me.
"But you didn't really trust him, sir, did you? He told Liana and me... the Riddle who came out of that diary said, 'Dumbledore never seemed to like me as much as the other teachers did.' "
"Let us say that I did not take it for granted that he was trustworthy," said Dumbledore. "I had, as I have already indicated, resolved to keep a close eye upon 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 true 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.
"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.
"Rigidly controlled by Riddle, they were never detected in open wrongdoing, although their seven years at Hogwarts were marked by a number of 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.
"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, after much painstaking effort, after tracing those few who could be tricked into speaking, after searching old records and questioning Muggle and wizard witnesses alike.
"Those whom I could persuade to talk told me that Riddle was obsessed with his parentage. This is understandable, of course; he had grown up in an orphanage and naturally wished to know how he came to be there. It seems that he searched in vain for some trace of Tom Riddle senior on the shields in the trophy room, on the lists of prefects in the old school records, even in the books of Wizarding history. Finally he was forced to accept that his father had never set foot in Hogwarts. I believe that it was then that he dropped the name forever, assumed the identity of Lord Voldemort, and began his investigations into his previously despised mother's family — the woman whom, you will remember, he had thought could not be a witch if she had succumbed to the shameful human weakness of death.
"All he had to go upon was the 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 find his Gaunt relatives. And now, Harry and Liana, if you will stand..."
Dumbledore rose, and I saw that he was again holding a small crystal bottle filled with swirling, pearly memory.
"I was very lucky to collect this," he said, as he poured the gleaming mass into the Pensieve. "As you will understand when we have experienced it. Shall we?"
I stepped up to the stone basin and bowed obediently until my face sank through the surface of the memory; I felt the familiar sensation of falling through nothingness and then landed right in front of a man I recognised at once.
It was a much younger Horace Slughorn. I was so used to him bald that I found the sight of Slughorn with thick, shiny, straw-coloured hair quite disconcerting; it looked as though he had had his head thatched, though there was already a shiny Galleon-sized bald patch on his crown. His mustache, less massive than it was these days, was gingery-blond. He was not quite as rotund as the Slughorn I knew, though the golden buttons on his richly embroidered waistcoat were taking a fair amount of strain. His little feet resting upon a velvet pouffe, he was sitting well back in a comfortable winged armchair, one hand grasping a small glass of wine, the other searching through a box of crystalized pineapple.
I looked around as Dumbledore and Harry appeared beside me and saw that we were standing in Slughorn's office. Half a dozen boys were sitting around Slughorn, all on harder or lower seats than his, and all in their mid-teens.
I recognised Voldemort at once. His was the most handsome face and he looked the most relaxed of all the boys. His right hand lay negligently upon the arm of his chair; with a jolt, I saw that he was wearing Marvolo's gold-and-black ring.
"Sir, is it true that Professor Merrythought is retiring?" he 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, so that I could see nothing but the face of Dumbledore and Harry, who were standing beside me. Then Slughorn's voice rang out through the mist, unnaturally loudly, "You'll go wrong, boy, mark my words."
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, I looked around as a small golden clock standing upon Slughorn's desk chimed eleven o'clock.
"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, Avery."
Slughorn pulled himself out of his armchair and carried his empty glass over to his desk as the boys filed out. Voldemort, however, stayed behind. I could tell he had 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 so that I could not see Slughorn or Voldemort at all; only Harry and Dumbledore, who was smiling serenely beside us. 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 beside Harry and me. "Time to go."
And my feet left the floor to fall, seconds later, back onto the rug in front of Dumbledore's desk.
"That's all there is?" said Harry blankly.
Dumbledore had said that this was the most important memory of all, but I could not see what was so significant about it. Admittedly the fog, and the fact that nobody seemed to have noticed it, was odd, but other than that nothing seemed to have happened except that Voldemort had asked a question and failed to get an answer.
"As you might have noticed," said Dumbledore, reseating himself behind his desk, "that memory has been tampered with."
"Tampered with?" I repeated, sitting back down too.
"Certainly," said Dumbledore. "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.
"And so, for the first time, I am giving you homework, Harry and Liana. It will be your job to persuade Professor Slughorn to divulge the real memory, which will undoubtedly be our most crucial piece of information of all."
Harry and I stared at him.
"But surely, sir," Harry said, keeping his voice as respectful as possible, "you don't need us — you could use Legilimency... or Veritaserum..."
"Professor Slughorn is an extremely able wizard who will be expecting both," said Dumbledore. "He is much more accomplished at Occlumency than poor Morfin Gaunt, and I would be astonished if he has not carried an antidote to Veritaserum with him ever since I coerced him into giving me this travesty of a recollection.
"No, I think it would be foolish to attempt to wrest the truth from Professor Slughorn by force, and might do much more harm than good; I do not wish him to leave Hogwarts. However, he has his weaknesses like the rest of us, and I believe that you are the only two persons who might be able to penetrate his defences. It is most important that we secure the true memory, Harry and Liana... How important, we will only know when we have seen the real thing. So, good luck... and good night."
A little taken aback by the abrupt dismissal, Harry and I got to our feet quickly.
"Good night, sir," we said together.
As we closed the study door behind us, I distinctly heard Phineas Nigellus say, "I can't see why the boy and girl should be able to do it better than you, Dumbledore."
"I wouldn't expect you to, Phineas," replied Dumbledore, and Fawkes gave another low, musical cry.