Raven | 𝘙𝘦𝘨𝘶𝘭𝘶𝘴 𝘉𝘭𝘢𝘤𝘬

Chapter 59

Alexandra lowered her head into the Pensieve and suddenly, she found herself falling through something icy-cold and black, as if being sucked into a dark whirlpool. But as soon as it had happened, the spinning and falling came to an end and she found herself in a large room.

     Alexandra looked around her, still not over the shock. The room was shadowy yet glamorous, with emerald green curtains hanging over the large windows. There was a big shelf full of moving pictures and there, right in the middle of the room, a table was set with a man and about half-a-dozen teenage boys sitting around him.

     Gulping, Alexandra moved closer toward them, trying to remind herself that this was just a memory and they weren't conscious of her presence.

     Once she neared the table, she immediately recognized the man as a younger Professor Slughorn. With his thick, shiny hair and his gingery-blond mustache, he was now sitting in the comfortable winged armchair in his office.

      His little feet were resting upon a velvet pouffe, one hand grasping a small glass of wine, the other searching through a box of crystalized pineapple.

     Reminding herself that this was her grandfather's memory and therefore he had to be present here, Alexandra tore her eyes away from Slughorn and looked around at the teenage boys, examining them carefully. But just then she took a sharp breath when she recognized her grandfather with great difficulty.

     He looked so much younger that she had nearly missed it. Marcellus Starling was around the same table, his brown hair nearly pushed back and his blue eyes glimmering under the dim light.

     To his left, a rather handsome boy with dark hair sat, and to his right there was a blond and pale boy whom Alexandra assumed was none other than Abraxas Malfoy.

    "Sir," Alexandra's attention was caught when the handsome boy with dark hair started speaking, a charming smile spread across his face, "is it true that Professor Merrythought is retiring?"

    "Tom, Tom, if I knew I couldn't tell you," said Slughorn, wagging his finger reprovingly at the boy, though winking at the same time. "I must say, I'd like to know where you get your information, boy, more knowledgeable than half the staff, you are."

    Tom smiled and the other boys laughed and cast him admiring looks, along with Alexandra's grandfather.

    "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 favorite —"

    Several of the boys tittered again, meanwhile young Marcellus Starling smirked at the Tom's direction, a look of admiration in his eyes.

     "— I confidently expect you to rise to Minister of Magic within twenty years. Fifteen, if you keep sending me pineapple, I have excellent contacts at the Ministry."

      The handsome and tall boy merely smiled as the others laughed again. Alexandra noticed that for some reason, the other boys were looking up at him as their leader, if that even made sense at that age.

     "I don't know that politics would suit me, sir," said Tom when the laughter had died away. "I don't have the right kind of background, for one thing."

      A couple of the boys around him smirked at each other as Abraxas gave Marcellus a knowing look before glancing away again, as if they were all in on a joke.

     "Nonsense," said Slughorn briskly, "couldn't be plainer you come from decent Wizarding stock, abilities like yours. No, you'll go far, Tom, I've never been wrong about a student yet."

The small golden clock standing upon Slughorn's desk suddenly chimed eleven o'clock behind him and he looked around.

"Good gracious, is it that time already? 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."

One by one, the boys stood up made their way out of the office, meanwhile Tom remained seated. Although young Marcellus lingered at the door, turning to look over at Slughorn.

"Sir, did you read the assignment I had sent you last week?" Marcellus questioned.

Slughorn beamed at him. "Yes, yes, of course, m'boy. It was written splendidly, I must say. I especially enjoyed the part you had researched about the bezoar. It was perfectly done."

"Thank you." Marcellus nodded at him with a sense of pride. "Goodnight, sir."

"Goodnight, Mr. Blackwood," said Slughorn and with that Marcellus left the office before sending a knowing look at Tom, who had now gotten to his feet.

Alexandra had taken aback. True, she had never been good at potions and Slughorn never cared much about her, always mispronouncing her surname. But she had expected that he would at least know the names of the boys in his own club.

But then again, when she came to think about it, the name 'Blackwood' sounded oddly familiar to her. She was sure that she had heard it before, or even read it somewhere.

Although before she could get a grasp of what was happening, the images changed. She was now seeing another memory.

The next moment, Alexandra found herself in a large and long room with rough stone walls and ceiling, from which round, greenish lamps were hanging on chains. A fire was crackling under an elaborately carved mantelpiece ahead of them.

This must be the Slytherin common room, Alexandra acknowledged, even though she had never been in there before.

When she looked around her and walked forward, she saw that the common room was completely empty except for only one boy, who was sitting beside the fireplace.

     It was her grandfather, Marcellus Starling. He was gazing into the flames in silence, as if awaiting something to happen.

Just then, his head shot up and Alexandra turned around when the door to the common room opened and the handsome and tall boy strode inside, his charming smile now completely vanished from his thin face.

"Well?" said Marcellus, looking up at Tom as he sat on the singular armchair next to the couch, his mind obviously somewhere far away. "Did you ask Slughorn about it?"

"Yes," Tom answered shortly, his cold eyes fixed on the blazing fire.

"And...?" he asked curiously, his blue eyes now on the boy, looking at him intently.

"He didn't say anything more than what I already knew," said Tom, his emotionless face unreadable and his gaze blank. "In order to do it, one must split their soul in half by committing murder, and then attach the piece of soul to another object, so it would be left unharmed."

Alexandra shivered at those words. She couldn't possibly imagine what spell could be so horrible and why a boy around sixteen would even want to know about it so bad.

"And can one make more than only one Horcrux?" Marcellus questioned, a glimmer of ambition in his eyes as he glanced at the boy admirably.

"He could not even bear to think about it once I asked him, but I knew it wouldn't hurt to seek for a second opinion," Tom answered distantly. "And yet... I do believe that it could be possible..."

     But then, Tom suddenly turned his sharp eyes on Marcellus, as if warningly. "I'm trusting you with this important matter. One that I'm not trusting the others with. I hope you know what would happen if anybody else finds out...?"

"Your secret is safe with me, Riddle," said Marcellus, bowing his head ever so lightly. "And I'm sure you will succeed."

The handsome boy finally turned his gaze on Marcellus, his lips twitching up into a faint smirk as he said, "I always do, Blackwood. I always do."