A couple of the boys around him smirked

A couple of the boys around him smirked at each other. Harry was sure they were enjoying a private joke, undoubtedly about what they knew, or suspected, regarding their

gang leader's famous ancestor.

“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 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 in morrow or it's detention. Same

goes for you, Avery.”

One by one, the boys filed out of the room. Slughorn heaved himself out of his armchair and carried his empty glass over to his desk. A movement behind him made him

look around; Riddle was still standing there.

“Look sharp, Tom, 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?”

Slughorn stared at him, his thick ringers absentmindedly clawing the stem of his wine glass.

“Project for Defense Against the Dark Arts, is it?”

But Harry could tell that Slughorn knew perfectly well that this was not schoolwork.

“Not exactly, sir,” said Riddle. “I came across the term while reading and I didn't fully understand it.”

“No... well... you'd be hard-pushed to find a book at Hogwarts that'll give you details on Horcruxes, Tom, that's very Dark stuff, very Dark indeed,” said Slughorn.

“But you obviously know all about them, sir? I mean, a wizard like you—sorry, I mean, if you can't tell me, obviously—I just knew if anyone could tell me, you could

—so I just thought I'd ask—”