Chapter Text
Dumbledore sat in his office and stared down at the ring before him. He had been a fool, an old fool and now he would pay the price for it. Sighing he picked up the now broken and harmless piece of jewelry and turned it in his hand but stopped before he turned the stone a third time.
Setting it back down on the desk he frowned, he had been very excited when he had found the memory of the ring while he was searching for the history of Tom Riddle. He had assumed the man had hoarded such a valuable family heirloom but he had not been expecting to find the item cursed, or changed into something darker.
He had long suspected that Voldemort had done something as horrible as create a horcrux after Harry's second year and the discovery of the diary. This ring however suggested that there was more than one. He twinged at the pain in his hand and looked at it, it was time to deal with it, the longer he waited the worse it would become.
Silently he conjured his patronus and sent it to Severus, requesting his immediate aid. As he waited he stared at the ring, he had finally held all three of the hallows, and each one had brought death.
It seemed the fates had decided he was only worthy to possess one of the hallows and he sighed in resignation, he should have known he was unworthy to possess all three of them.
As Severus stepped out of the fire with his usual frown Dumbledore felt his heart clench a little. This man whose loyalty shamed all of Gryffindor house was his last hope, and he knew that what was to come would destroy him. "Severus my boy, I thank you for coming so quickly."
"Your message sounded urgent, what can I do for you?" As the tall dark figure approached his desk he saw the moment the dark eyes caught sight of his hand. Without a word Severus ran around the desk and kneeled at his side, pulling his wand from his robes and hovering his hand above his own.
"What is this? What have you done Albus?" The words came out as an angry hiss as Severus examined his hand, casting spell after spell over it. "The folly of a foolish old man I'm afraid." Severus glared up at him but continued his work.
"This is dark magic, where did you run into something like this?" He looked at the ring on his desk and Severus followed his eyes. "Do I want to know why something so dark was on a piece of jewelry? Or why you touched said piece of jewelry?" Dumbledrore sighed, "I am afraid in my excitement to reach the thing I did not expect a second layer of protection had been placed on it."
Severus grunted, "if you were searching for artifacts that had any connection to dark magic you should have taken me with you." He frowned as he finished casting over the injured hand. "Albus, this is serious. I cannot contain the curse, it is spreading." Resigned to his fate he met the concerned onyx ones looking up at him.
"How long?"
The potions master sighed and closed his eyes, "it is hard to say for sure but no more than a year. Most likely you have perhaps seven months." He nodded slowly, turning the withered limb and looking at it. "I can stop the physical damage from spreading but I cannot heal what has already been done."
The words were soft, too soft for the gruff Slytherin and he smiled sadly.
"Sometimes my boy, I believe we do the sorting too soon." Severus raised his brows at him and he waived his comment off. "Any time you can buy me I will be grateful for it. It appears our dear Draco's mission will not be so difficult after all."
Severus stood and paced in front of his desk. "How can you be so cavalier about this?" "Severus I am not a young man, I have lived a full life. I do not wish to die so soon but what's done is done, I must make my peace with that and spend the last bit of time I have left doing what needs to be done."
Severus stopped his pacing and glared at him. "And what of the dark lord? You are the one currently leading the fight against him, you are the one he fears. Once you are gone there will be nothing holding him back, he will become more dangerous than he ever was."
"I believe I have discovered the thing that will end this all Severus," dark eyes bored into his and he held up a hand.
"I still need to confirm it so no I am not ready to discuss it with you. If I am correct though it will be Voldemort's undoing." "And can it be done without you?"
Dumbledore leaned back in his chair and nodded, "I know that it can, although I believe stealth will be the optimum approach to it. You need to do whatever needs to be done to stay with him Severus, your role will be vital." The younger man nodded, but it was clear on his face he was not pleased.
"That will be difficult, he still does not fully trust me, I am afraid I will never reach the level I had before." "We will remedy that, we will need to arrange something that shows your dedication to him." Dark eyes met his sharply, "I will not kill you for him if that is what you are thinking."
He said nothing as he watched the man who pretended he had no heart, he feared that there would be no other option.
He walked quietly down the muggle street, the street lights the only thing lighting the otherwise deserted area. As he approached the house he had tracked Slughorn to he took a moment to appreciate it, from all appearances it was a well kept home. He opened the small gate that guarded the walkway to the front door and approached carefully.
The door sat slightly ajar and he slowly pushed it open, holding his lit wand ahead of him as he entered.
The house was a mess, furniture tossed around like a childs toys, burn marks and slashes of blood covered the walls. He made his way slowly through the main living area of the home, looking for something out of place.
It didn't take long to discover the man's hiding place, the large comfortable looking arm chair just a little too clean for its surroundings. He approached it slowly and pointed his wand towards it. "I can reveal you Horace or you can show yourself," it took only a moment for the chair to start to change form.
"How did you know where I was?" A slightly annoyed looking Horace asked as he stood before him in rather festive looking pajamas. He smiled at the man, "I assure you old friend that it took me quite a while to track you down, you have become quite adept at hiding."
Horace made a disgruntled noise as he waved his wand and silently began to put the house to rights. "This is quite a lovely home, whos is it?" He asked casually as he took a seat on the newly upright sofa. "A muggle family, they're on vacation until next week." He nodded as the last of the furniture was put into place and the walls were cleared. "What are you doing here Albus?"
He raised his brows, "do I need a reason to visit an old friend?" Horace gave a laugh as he settled his large form into a chair across from him. "When the old friend is trying not to receive visitors, yes." He smiled, "ah yes well I apologize for the surprise but I was worried that if I warned you you would have been gone by the time I arrived."
Horace waved his wand and summoned a bottle of firewisky and a pair of glasses. Pouring a glass for each of them he levitated one to Dumbledore and he took it with a nod. "So what are you doing here?" "Two reasons actually, the first is that I need something from you, something very specific."
Horace watched him thoughtfully, "And what might that be?" "A memory Horace, you know the one I speak of." The larger man's face went red and he took a healthy swing of his drink. "I already gave it to you Albus." "But not the real memory, I am not a fool Horace I know you altered it."
"What do you want with it, it's nothing." He sighed as he set his glass down on a table next to the sofa. "I am not here to judge you Horace, or what happened that night but it is imperative I know what you discussed with Tom. I know he asked you about horcruxes Horace, and I know he made them. What I need to know is how many."
Horace looked at him in horror, "he made one?" He nodded, "At least two that I am aware of, but I fear there is more." Horace filled his glass again and took a long drink. "I didn't know Albus, I didn't know what he would become back then." For the first time in many years he found himself pitying the man before him. Horace had always been one to get himself into trouble, and out of it as well, but he could not imagine the guilt he must still carry for not recognizing what Tom Riddle would become.
"I do not blame you Horace, none of us saw what he was capable of, you are not to blame." Sad eyes met his, "sometimes it feels like I am though. I encouraged the boy to seek greatness, I encouraged him to seek power."
"And I know you did not mean for him to become what he did. You are not an evil man, a little to Slytherin at times perhaps but nothing like him."
Horace gave a small sad smile. "I am not here to only seek help from you but to also offer help. I know that you are hiding from the death eaters, and I know that this is no life for a man like you. Come back to Hogwarts, teach again and you will be safe on school grounds."
The large man seemed to debate the idea but Dumbledore knew the man would likely say no. "We have a rather excellent group of students who could use your advice and connections as well. As I am sure you are aware, Harry Potter will be starting his sixth year this year and he is not only an exceptional quidditch player but rather gifted with defensive magic as well."
That drew Horaces attention, "he cast a fully corporeal patronus in his third year. He was the first student to get onto a quidditch team his first year in almost a century." Horace pursed his lips and Albus knew he had him.
"There are many other rather bright and promising students as well, come with me Horace, you can have your old position back although I have to insist on Severus holding his position as head of Slytherin."
"Alright, alright Albus I will think about it." Horace waved his hand through the air as if he was not yet convinced.
"If I give you this memory I will want my old quarters back, the dungeons were always too drafty for my taste anyway." He nodded his agreement.
With an exaggerated sigh the large man hefted his weight out of his chair and approached a large chest sitting in the corner of the room. Tapping it with his wand the chest swung open, shelves full of trinkets and pictures of his favorite students lined the inside of the case.
Pulling open a small drawer near the bottom of the case he drew out a small vial and with shaking fingers he put his wand to his temple and drew out a long silvery stream of thought. Placing the memory carefully in the vial he put a stopper on it and turned to face him.
"When you see it Albus I pray you will not think ill of me, I did not know what help I was giving him." Albus stood and approached his old friend and gently laid his good hand on the man's shoulder. "I would never think ill of you Horace, you were always a good man and a kind teacher."
Horace gave a shaky smile as he handed the vial over to him before returning to his chair and pouring another finger of firewisky. Tucking the vial safely into his robes he watched the figure of what had once been a great man.
Horace stared into his glass, clearly lost in his own thoughts and he silently turned to leave. Stepping out into the warm summer night he heaved a sigh of relief, finally he had what he had been looking for for years, he only prayed he had enough time.