"We?" Slughorn's face showed a flicker of hesitation, his eyes darting between Dumbledore and Snape. "Severus, too?"
"I don't see why not, Horace," Dumbledore replied softly, nodding. "After all, he's the reason we're here. Don't you agree?"
"Oh, well... yes..." Slughorn muttered under his breath. "Tonight's events started because of him, and I hope he learns a lesson from it..."
He slowly, ever so slowly, reached into his pocket, pulled out his wand, touched the tip to his temple, then withdrew it.
A long, silvery thread of memory streamed from the wand tip. It stretched longer and longer, until finally, it broke, shimmering and swirling like gas from the wand.
It felt like an age before they were once again pulled upwards by an unseen force, soaring weightlessly through the darkness, through a void, and then settling gently back onto the carpet in front of Dumbledore's desk, the Pensieve glowing before them.
Outside, the night still held its embrace.
"I imagine you saw it just now, Severus," Slughorn said, turning his gaze slowly to Snape after he'd found his footing. "Don't think me a bore, but I told you before: Tom vanished not long after he graduated, and no one knows what became of him.
"I don't want you to end up like that. You have a brilliant future ahead of you.
"You must understand, the soul should remain whole. Splitting it is an abomination, unnatural. So, you must keep far away from that thing; it's far too evil, and far too dangerous..."
"Thank you, sir." Snape took a step forward and bowed deeply to Slughorn. "I will remember your warning."
Though he was already intimately familiar with this memory, the fact that Slughorn was willing to let him witness his past indiscretion, hoping it would serve as a warning, filled Snape with profound respect.
Beneath the old Potions Master's rather worldly and smooth exterior, he possessed his own sense of conscience, bravery, and nobility.
"Albus..." Slughorn's voice was heavy with weariness. "I truly am old... That Horcrux in the castle, let Severus take you to see it.
"And that resignation letter from before, if it's no trouble, would you mind giving me another copy...?"
"Sir, you shouldn't leave Hogwarts." Snape quickly stepped forward, picked up the mead from the desk, and poured Slughorn another small glass. "You'll be safer staying here."
"Why..." Slughorn took the goblet, barely able to speak above a whisper. "What good is keeping an old man like me... I could leave the country..."
Snape thought for a moment, then slowly drew his wand from his pocket.
With a gentle flick of his wrist, he traced a few swift motions in the air, conjuring three shimmering names:
**Tom Marvolo Riddle**
Then, with another wave of his wand, the letters rearranged themselves:
**I am Lord Voldemort**
"This is for your own good, sir," Snape said softly.
Slughorn's face turned even paler, his brow glistening with beads of sweat.
He remained silent, but his expression was one of sheer terror.
In that moment, he finally connected Voldemort with the clever, handsome Head Boy who had once attended Hogwarts.
Slughorn raised a plump hand, pressing his trembling fingers to his lips. For a moment, he looked like a large, helpless infant.
"I—I—" Slughorn shivered violently, seemingly unable to tear his terrified gaze from the words.
"I—I gave them his secret..." Slughorn mumbled softly through his fingers, the fear lingering on his face. "What ever shall I do...?"
"You need rest, Horace," Dumbledore said gently. "You're overly tired; a good sleep will make you feel much better.
"Furthermore, you needn't worry. Everyone here will keep this a secret. Won't we, Severus?"
Snape looked into Slughorn's eyes and nodded seriously. "If you're still uneasy, I can make an Unbreakable Vow. Professor Dumbledore can witness it for us."
"No, no need," Slughorn waved a weak hand, sighing heavily again. "There's no need for that. Oh, I just—I just shouldn't have to bear all this..."
"I'll see you back, Horace," Dumbledore said, donning his robes and turning to Snape. "Wait for me here a moment, Severus. I'll be right back."
With that, he raised his wand again, and the bottle of mead and the three glasses on the desk vanished instantly.
The two walked past Snape and closed the door behind them.
A minute later, Snape heard the stone gargoyle jump aside and then jump back into place.
Feeling restless, he began to look around.
Though the old Headmasters in their portraits were softly snoring, Snape suspected that a few of them were merely pretending.
"Hello, Fawkes." Snape looked up, greeting the phoenix perched on a golden stand by the door.
Professor Dumbledore's phoenix, Fawkes, was observing Snape with two bright, black eyes.
"If I were in danger in the castle and cried out Dumbledore's name, would you come save me, Fawkes?" Snape asked, pointing to the tattered, crumpled old wizard's hat on a shelf. "Preferably with that thing along."
Next to the Sorting Hat, in a glass case, lay a gleaming silver sword with large rubies embedded in its hilt.
Gazing at the Sorting Hat, Snape had no inclination to try it on. Who knew if the ancient hat might truly read something it shouldn't? If it did, he'd probably have to destroy it.
Though, on second thought, that might not be a bad thing. Perhaps after that, Hogwarts could finally achieve grand unity among its houses.
Snape thought this as he walked around the desk and reached for the Sorting Hat on the shelf.
He stared at the Sword of Gryffindor in its case, then plunged his hand into the hat, trying to feel for a hilt. But after fumbling for a while, there was nothing inside.
What in the blazes? he grumbled to himself. Am I not brave enough? This old relic is far too biased.
"Hey, give me a break, will you?" Snape held the Sorting Hat before him. "Even if you once belonged to Godric Gryffindor, you can't play favorites."
"What are you doing, Severus?"
Just then, Dumbledore's voice suddenly spoke from behind Snape.
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