36 The Mystery of Horcruxes

20 October 1995.

 - Harry," Sirius, looking at me from the see-through mirror, seemed thoughtful. - 'After you got rid of the Horcrux in your head, I started digging in that direction. The Black's were never a bright family, you know, so I had plenty of literature, even about such dark things.

 - And what did you find?

 - If I understand correctly, the Lord created more than one Horcrux, something no one had ever dared to do before. - Sirius grimaced. - You can tell by the fact that the further you go - the more violent, unpredictable and out of control the Dark Lord became during the first war. Then again, I, along with James, had faced the Lord on the battlefield more than once, and with each encounter, the breath of evil emanating from him grew stronger. So, I'm afraid that one Horcrux was not limited to the serpentfolk.

 - But where and how do we find them now?

 - I think we can safely cross off two of them - your scar and the Malfoy notebook you came across in second year. - Sirius swore foully. - 'I can't believe Dumbledore didn't realise what he was dealing with when you brought him the notebook. But why the hell he kept silent about Horcruxes afterwards... I don't get him.

 - You know, I think he'd rather die than give away anything he knows. - I grinned wryly, looking in the mirror.

 - Let's see... I've found one interesting person I'd like to get on our side.

 - Who is he? - Sirius didn't usually make such an emphasis, but I was getting curious.

 - He's one of the best potions masters in the country, a good occlumency too, and most importantly, he's trusted by Dumbledore; they used to work together at Hogwarts before Snape was hired there. Horace Slughorn. A very slippery man and quite a powerful mage with a huge amount of knowledge. And by the looks of it, he's a moustachioed goody-goody sybarite.

 - Doesn't he want to change sides? - I shrugged. - Or just wants to stay out of the game?

 - Not exactly. It's you he wants to talk to specifically. - Sirius grinned as well. - In a way, the fat man is a copy of Alastor in his suspicion of unknown people, and he's willing to believe you for some reason. Horace Slughorn needs a strong assurance of his own safety.

 - Are you suggesting I visit England? Dumbledore and the Lord may sense I've returned.

 - He will be of real use to us. Most importantly, sooner or later Dumbledore will come to him, and Slughorn could become another of our eyes and hands in the Headmaster's camp. And even fifteen years ago, there was talk that Slughorn was desperate to replicate Nicholas Flamel's experience and therefore would not get involved in any conflicts.

 - When do you want me to come, godfather? - I looked carefully at the smirking Black. - But I won't be travelling alone, and I hope I can persuade the teacher to back me up.

 - You've become more careful, godson," Black looked at me respectfully. - It's a pity it wasn't there for me or your father in the First War, for which we both ended up paying the ultimate price. Slughorn has agreed to speak to me again tomorrow at ten o'clock at night, before then he's brewing something in his lab.

 - Good, I'll be there for sure. - The see-through mirror in my hands went out.

21 October 1995

 The next day literally flashed past me. Morning training with Ciaran, at which the teacher graciously agreed to accompany me to England and have my back. Lunch with the Delacours, at which I had to exercise the utmost tact and control so as not to give away our changed relationship to Fleur's perceptive mother. A walk with Fleur and Gabrielle through the autumn park, where we ate hot Muggle pizza, fooled around and ran around among the trees like children. We couldn't afford to do anything out of the ordinary in front of my little sister, so I occasionally kissed a slender wrist or casually hugged a smiling girl. Gabrielle wasn't really interested in such things, though, and was just trying to have fun on her day off, asking me about the faculty-we'd never seen each other in Beauxbaton.

 - You won't! - Gabrielle shrieked and threw a footstep spell at me and hid behind a tree.

 Staring at Fleur's slim profile, I most embarrassingly missed the childish spell. However, the passive shield I was gradually learning to maintain around my body at all times safely deflected the girl's spell, and Fleur and I ran after the dodging, giggling Gabrielle.

 In the evening after dinner, when it was gradually getting darker, I exchanged an eager kiss with Fleur, with whom we were finally alone, and left for the fireplace room to join Ciaran, who was waiting for me. By mutual agreement, we donned robes with deep hoods, hiding our faces completely. Grasping the crystal of the international portkey, we were transported to England, and found ourselves in front of a wrought iron gate, where Sirius was waiting for us.

 - Come on," Sirius shook our hands and led us through a tiny park, in the centre of which a red-brick tile-roofed house was hidden between the trees, and beyond it a much larger structure, apparently Slughorn's main dwelling.

 - The guest house," Sirius said as he walked to the porch.

 After knocking on the door and pulling back the hood of his cloak, Blek persuaded the owner to let us in, and then we were ushered through dark corridors and a small living room into a room decorated with a table, chairs, and brightly coloured torches on the walls. The rough stonework of the walls, much sturdier than the rest of the house, showed that dangerous experiments were often conducted here, far from the Potions Master's dwelling.

 - Good evening, gentlemen. - Only now did I get a glimpse of our hospitable host. Obese, rather fat, with a luxurious grey moustache on his full face, but his grey eyes shone with a youthful glint, and his sausage fingers deftly held his wand, directing the movements of the coffee pot and cups. Dressed in a simple brown robe, Horace had clearly just stepped away from the cauldrons - the clothes still held the pungent yet spicy aroma of an unfamiliar potion.

 - Good evening, Mr Slughorn," Ciaran and I pulled back our hoods, revealing our faces. The potion maker's eyes ran down my face and stopped at my forehead. He grinned.

 - 'Congratulations to you, Mr Potter. A master of his craft has worked on your appearance. I can't feel any emanations of magic from your scar at all.

 - There are many things in the world..." I quoted Shakespeare, for whom Fleur had a certain weakness.

 After exchanging some of the inevitable courtesies, we got down to business. Even in this half-empty room, however, the host had managed to create a certain cosiness, with coffee and trays of sweets from all over the world, and I understood why Sirius had called him a sybarite. The man was eating the candied fruit with satisfaction, and he looked me in the eye.

 - Mr. Potter, I've had the honour of being friends with your mother. Despite her primary talent in spells, she was very capable in potions. - Horace sipped his coffee. - 'As I understand Lord Black, you are assembling a third party in the coming war... But I would like to know, for what purpose?

 - 'To be honest, Mr Slughorn,' I met his gaze squarely. - I see a future for magical England without the two people poisoning its present. Without Voldemort," the man didn't flinch at the sound of the name, "and without... Dumbledore.

 Slughorn grinned with just his lips.

 - Well, what's wrong with... Voldemort, I understand, I'm sorry. But what's your problem with Headmaster Dumbledore?

 - Well, for starters, the man ruined my whole life until recently. - I'm trying to pull myself together. - He put me in the hands of magic-hating relatives I lived with until fourth year. He put my godfather in Azkaban without a trial. He had me poisoned with potions of friendship and affection, and was going to give me spells to take away my family's heritage in favour of blood traitors. That is as far as what he has done to me personally, but there is more....

 Slughorn's grey eyes were full of attention.

 - Through the connivance and apparent support of the headmaster, much knowledge is being declared dark and destroyed. The magical arts are being squeezed into the framework of Ministry decrees, and aristocratic families, bearers of ancient magic and traditions, are being destroyed. My friends and I have nothing against Muggleborns or half-bloods - they are just as human. But the loss of much of the ancient knowledge that the Headmaster and the Minister are preventing them from accessing, the loss of the old traditions and ideals of the purebloods, I find unacceptable.

 - Is that all, Mr Potter?

 - Not quite. - I realised that the strange examination was still going on. - Magical society is in a terrible stagnation right now. Dumbledore, with the support of Muggleborns, is trying to change that, but I do not agree with his course of simplification, which is what we are seeing at the current Hogwarts. We may well take the most advanced achievements from the Muggle world without losing the old knowledge of magic, of the rituals of noble families. - I tried to recall in detail all of our conversations with Delacourt Senior, James, Sirius. - One more thing. During the entire First War, Dumbledore had not personally killed a single Death Eaters or sought Voldemort's death, being the greatest light wizard ever, while the Aurorat and the Dumbledore-run Order of the Phoenix had lost dozens of powerful wizards in pointless operations. Such a development in the new war is unacceptable to me.

 - Suppose so, what do you want from me personally? - Slughorn relaxed somewhat in his chair.

 - From you. I'm going back to England after a year, I have too much to learn now, and Dumbledore won't allow me to gain the real power and knowledge to survive a war with Voldemort. We need brilliant potions masters too," I flattered the old man a little, "and warriors, and people the Headmaster trusts. I don't think there will be any left out in the next war - neither Dumbledore, nor Voldemort, nor those who believed and followed me will let them.

 Slughorn pondered, sending another candied fruit into his mouth. Finally coming out of his musings, he said:

 - Consider me with you, Mr Potter. Besides, the Headmaster never ate my fruit, preferring his horrible lemon wedges," he chuckled.

 We smiled demurely, appreciating the irony of the Potter's irony.

 - Well, as a sign of my seriousness, I'll tell you one thing that Dumbledore has been trying to find out from me for days now.

 At that moment our conversation was interrupted by a crackling sound from the next room. Someone came out of the fireplace net, bumping into the wood stacked randomly in front of him, which immediately scattered in all directions. A voice familiar to all but Ciaran hissed something profane quietly, and then louder:

 - Horace, my friend, are you here?

 - Dumbledore. - Sirius and Ciaran and I threw our hoods over our heads, pulling out our wands. Slughorn turned pale, realising what was about to happen.

 A light wave of scanning spell travelled through the wall before we could react. And instantly - the sensation of power gathering into a thin bundle for an attack from the next room - Dumbledore sensed that there were three less than bright wizards in the house besides Slughorn. The Headmaster's new spell, long and flashy, blocked the ability to apparate out of the house.

 - Harry, when it starts, break the blockade. The counterspell you know. - Ciaran whispered. I nodded, clenching my wand in my sweaty hands.

 Separated by only one stone wall from Dumbledore, considered the greatest wizard in Europe, we were preparing for battle. Sirius, staying in the family mansion, could have argued with the Headmaster himself, but outside of him I didn't expect to win, and again, it was unacceptable to reveal my plans to an unsuspecting schemer.

 - I'm sorry, Mr Slughorn," Ciaran extended his wand in the direction of the wall Dumbledore was hiding behind. - But I'm afraid this cottage will have to be rebuilt.

 The Headmaster, covered by his powerful shields, tried to dash through the wall, but...

 - FIENDFIRE! - Sirius bellowed in the direction of the wall. A wave of Hellfire, the most dangerous of the fire elemental spells, swept towards Dumbledore, who began to retreat. It smelled as hot as a blast furnace, and the stone in the next room must have melted from the heat, but the Headmaster held his ground and now tried to fight his way through the raging fire to us.

 - Break the block! Fiendfire! - Sirius and Ciaran shouted in two voices, looking up at the cracked ceiling. Slughorn hissed something through his teeth and the cracks shrank with a white glow, stopping expanding. I rambled a long Latin phrase, and my spell overcame the power of the Headmaster's block, though my nose bled from the exertion.

 Sirius grabbed Slughorn's arm and immediately apparated away, followed by Ciaran, throwing another spell behind me that literally tore the house apart. It was an endless series of apparatus transfers to various parts of England, and after a good fifty jumps, when I was ready to vomit up my dinner, Ciaran pulled out an international portal that threw us into the Delacour living room.

 - We're off. - He exhaled, puffing out the last spell, which I realised was at the limit of the mage's abilities, but his eyes were gleaming merrily. The best fighter in the French Aurorate was genuinely enjoying the process. When I looked in the mirror on the wall, I saw that we were both covered in soot, and I had blood all over the collar of my robe, still oozing from my nose.

 - You'll be fine," Ciaran patted my shoulder. - You just broke the spell of the strongest wizard in England, so all you need is experience.

 - Yeah, experience..." I staggered a little and headed for the exit. - Why so quiet?

 - Jean-Claude and Marie have gone to see the Minister of Magic, I think they'll be back by morning. And the girls don't have full control over the mansion's defences, so they didn't sense anything and are sleeping. Moreover, Jean-Claude personally made the portal, so the mansion let us in as their own. - Ciaran turned back to the fireplace to return to his house.

 In the corridor, however, I was greeted by a whirlwind of care and affection with the gentle name of Fleur Delacour, who, as it turned out, had ordered the housekeepers to warn her in case I returned. A few minutes later, I was already soaking in the bathtub in my allotted rooms, and next to the tub sat Fleur, dressed in a warm dressing gown.

 - What's happened at your place?

 - We accidentally ran into Dumbledore in England. - I shook the little hand reassuringly. - 'But we managed to get out of there without leaving a trace.

 - Men. - The girl in that slight sneer expressed all her attitude to our affairs. - The important thing is that you weren't hurt.

 Fleur handed me the evening portion of elixirs from my bag, to which, as I was surprised to notice, she had added a vial of revitalising power. Looking at the girl with a smile, I noticed her blushing slightly, and only then did I realise why she had added another vial.

 Fleur stepped out for a while, giving me a chance to wash my face, though after the potions I had taken, I would have loved to see her next to me in the bath. After getting out of the tub and picking up the wand case on the table, I walked into my bedroom. The room was lit only by the faint glow of a nightlight, but I could see that my bed was already occupied by the most beautiful girl in the world. I sat down beside her and finally kissed her soft, honey-scented lips, once again amazed that this treasure had chosen me. Somehow the girl was on my lap, having already got rid of her dressing gown, where my clothes had gone, too, passed my consciousness. Kissing the hot, wriggling body of my beloved, I felt really happy.

 The two men sitting in armchairs in one of the deepest cellars of the Grimmo Street mansion were gloomy. The decanter of aged red wine between them did little to lighten the mood.

 - Most importantly, Dumbledore hadn't noticed who had attacked him, and after the hellfire it was impossible to keep track of anything. - Slughorn sipped from his glass, not noticing the taste.

 - Well, the Bleck clan and the Potter clan apologise to the esteemed master and promise to help with the restoration of your guest house. - Sirius smiled.

 - 'Yes, actually, that's not even what I'm talking about, Lord Black, it's about how I'm going to get legalised in England under Dumbledore's nose now.

 - If you draw some parallels, the Headmaster will probably think you were attacked by the Death Eaters," Black tapped his fingers on the tabletop, thinking hard. - Alastor can arrange through his loyal Aurorat fighters to have you released when they raid a discovered Deathstalker stronghold....

 - Sounds good... But we'd have to make sure that Dumbledore wouldn't dig in, even if he did brainwash Alastor's subordinates, even though it was illegal. But did that stop him?

 - Hardly. Until he realised that it was dangerous for him to mess with me in the mansion, he regularly tried to read my mind as well," Black stretched out thoughtfully.

 - Well then, I suppose you won't deny me sanctuary until Alastor has prepared a hiding place from which I can be released by the Aurors? - Slughorn relaxed in his chair. - I am pleased with the young man's behaviour in my house... He shattered Dumbledore's anti-apparatus block with a single blow.

 - I noticed it too..." Sirius grinned. - 'My godson needs only one thing right now - time and endless training to stand up to the Lord and Dumbledore. And now, Mr Slughorn, behind this door you will find several quite habitable rooms with the sweetest of meals in the drawing room. Beneath the house are not only dungeons and warehouses, but quite a few other rooms as well, including those for guests in need of safe haven.

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