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"It's dreadful… I'm an old man…"
Slughorn stood there, muttering faintly for a moment. His vibrant green velvet robes were now soaked with sweat, clinging tightly to his skin.
"Severus," Slughorn began weakly, "I can't answer your questions. We need to see the Headmaster."
"Is the Headmaster back?" Snape asked curiously. "I haven't seen a trace of him in ages."
"He returned this afternoon," Slughorn replied, shakily pulling on his coat. "Come on, let's go to his office now."
"Why is it always you?" The stone gargoyle outside the Headmaster's office squinted at Snape, sizing him up with a sneer.
"Needs must," Snape shot back, glaring at the gargoyle.
"Oh, needs must, is it?" the gargoyle retorted in a shrill voice. "Same for me, standing here, isn't it?"
"—Acid Pops," Slughorn interrupted brusquely, clearly in no mood for their banter.
The gargoyle let out a few indignant grumbles but reluctantly slid aside, revealing the spiral staircase behind it.
"Albus, sorry to disturb you," Slughorn said as he led Snape into the circular office.
"Good midnight, Professor," Snape said, peeking out from behind Slughorn's broad frame with a smirk.
"Oh, Horace, it's no trouble at all," Dumbledore replied, his face lit with a gentle smile. "On such a cool, pleasant evening, what earth-shattering thing has Severus done this time?"
"Earth-shattering indeed, Professor," Snape said, stepping out from behind Slughorn with a scowl. "Prejudice is a mountain in people's hearts. Let me help you blast it to bits."
At the word "blast," the corner of Dumbledore's mouth twitched, and his eyes flicked toward the door, as if checking for any other "dangerous elements" trailing behind.
"Enough nonsense, Severus," Slughorn snapped irritably. "Muffliato—"
"He says he found a Horcrux in the castle, Albus."
"A Horcrux?" Dumbledore's expression turned grave in an instant.
He raised his wand, pointing it toward the window.
Snape heard something whistling through the air outside, streaking toward them.
Several faded, black-leather tomes soared through the open window from the pitch-black night sky, halting abruptly in midair beside Dumbledore.
Dumbledore tapped his wand lightly on the books. A black cabinet behind Snape creaked open, and the heavy tomes zoomed inside, the door slamming shut with a bang.
"My apologies," Dumbledore said softly. "That was careless of me. Have you read those books, Severus?"
"I have," Snape replied. "They're in the library, aren't they? Libraries are for reading, after all."
"How did you get in? I doubt any professor would sign your permission slip," Dumbledore said, raising an eyebrow.
Snape let out a soft chuckle, thinking to himself: Unless they were a brainless fool, like Gilderoy Lockhart years from now.
Dumbledore and Slughorn both looked baffled by his sudden, inexplicable laughter, staring at him in confusion.
"No slip, Professor," Snape explained quickly. "I used a Disillusionment Charm to sneak in."
"You see, a while back, I had a certain piece of parchment in my possession," Snape continued, his gaze drifting pointedly toward Dumbledore's desk, where the Marauder's Map lay quietly in a drawer. "I got quite good at wandering the grounds during that time."
"Young man…" Dumbledore shook his head, then turned to Slughorn. "Horace, has Severus been consulting you about Horcruxes?"
"Yes… Albus… he asked me about Horcruxes…" Slughorn's voice trembled slightly. "It unsettled me… because many years ago, someone else asked me much the same thing…"
"Someone else asked you?" Dumbledore's tone remained calm, reassuring. "That's nothing to worry about, Horace. It's only natural for some bright young witches and wizards to take an interest in the darker facets of magic. As long as they haven't made any irreversible mistakes, there's still time—"
"No!" Slughorn cut him off, his voice rising with agitation. "You don't understand, Albus! He found a Horcrux in Hogwarts."
"Easy now, Horace," Dumbledore said, drawing his wand and giving it a gentle flick. A grimy wine bottle and three glass goblets materialized in the air.
The bottle tilted, pouring a honey-colored liquid into each goblet, which then floated toward everyone in the room.
"Have a drink. It'll calm your nerves," Dumbledore said. "Madam Rosmerta's finest oak-matured mead."
He raised his goblet in a toast to Slughorn and Snape.
Slughorn grabbed his goblet and took a small sip.
Snape took a taste as well but found it lacked the richness of the bottle he'd once had at the Three Broomsticks.
Not the best, then.
"I may have made a mistake… Albus…" Slughorn clutched the stem of his goblet tightly. "I feel ashamed… Over thirty years ago, someone else asked me about Horcruxes… I fear I may have caused great harm that day…"
"Oh? Who was it?" Dumbledore pressed.
"I think you remember him…" Slughorn murmured softly. "Tom Riddle, that brilliant young man…"
"Him," Dumbledore said, giving Snape a meaningful glance. "Of course, I remember. A student like him is unforgettable in a lifetime."
"So, what did Tom ask you?"
"He asked me…" Slughorn hesitated for a long moment, as if summoning great resolve, before continuing slowly, "he asked… whether a soul can only be split once… or if splitting it into more pieces would be better… just as Severus asked me today…"
Dumbledore set his empty goblet on the desk, stood, and walked over to Slughorn, gently placing a hand on his shoulder in comfort.
"It's alright, Horace," he said. "I'm sure you only shared a bit of obscure magical theory by mistake. Everyone errs."
"But I wonder, could you share that memory with us? Perhaps there's still something we can do."
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