Sherlock Holmes at Hogwarts.

Chapter 446 Tom Horcrux Riddle

Professor Horace Slughorn was not bald when he was young.

He had a thick head of glossy blond hair.

However, the observant Sherlock noticed that a bald patch the size of a Galleon had appeared on his head.

In addition, the ginger-colored beard wasn't as thick as it is now.

Her figure wasn't quite as round, but the gold buttons on her embroidered vest were stretched quite tightly.

Slughorn rested his small feet on a large velvet cushion, reclining in a comfortable winged armchair.

He held a small glass of wine in his right hand and picked through a box of pineapple preserves with his other hand.

They looked very relaxed and at ease.

"The Slytherin Headmaster's Office."

Sherlock said softly.

Just then, Harry and Dumbledore appeared beside Sherlock.

Sherlock did not speak to them.

He glanced around and saw six or seven boys, around fifteen or sixteen years old, sitting around Slughorn.

Tom Riddle is the most notable one among them.

Not only because he was the most handsome, but also because he happened to be surrounded by those little boys.

Compared to the other boys who were more or less reserved, he was the most relaxed.
His right hand rested casually on the armrest of the chair, adorned with a simple yet exquisite black gemstone ring.

At that moment, the memory officially began.

Tom Riddle was the first to speak:
"Sir, is Professor Miles retiring?"

"Tom, Tom, even if I knew, I couldn't tell you."

Slughorn shook a sugar-coated finger at him as if to scold him, but then winked at him:

“I have to say, I want to know where you got your information, kid—you know more than half the teachers.”

Riddle smiled slightly, and the other boys laughed too, casting admiring glances at him.

Sherlock noticed that the boys' admiration was genuine.

This brought a smile to Sherlock's lips: "Interesting."

Professor Slughorn continued:
"You little devil, you always know things you shouldn't know."

She'll also carefully try to please important people—and by the way, thank you for the pineapple, you guessed it, it really is my favorite—"

The boys chuckled again, and Slughorn relaxed, his words starting to sway slightly:
“I believe you will be promoted to Minister of Magic within twenty years, maybe even fifteen—if you keep sending me pineapple preserves—I have very strong connections in the ministry.”

The other boys laughed for the third time, but Tom Riddle remained smiling throughout, appearing very elegant.

“I don’t know if politics is a good fit for me, sir,” Tom Riddell said slowly after the laughter subsided. “First of all, I have no connections.”

The two boys closest to him exchanged a knowing smile upon hearing this.

Based on Sherlock's understanding of Voldemort, he knew that Tom Riddle had already begun to secretly build his influence at the school.

He led people to believe that he was born into an ancient wizarding family, though it had since fallen into decline.

"What are you talking about?"

Sure enough, Slughorn laughed heartily:

“A talent like yours must come from a respectable wizarding family.”

That couldn't be clearer, Tom. You have a bright future ahead of you. I've never misjudged a student.

"..."

As soon as he said that, Harry and Dumbledore, who were observing the memory, couldn't help but shake their heads—he was completely wrong this time.

Meanwhile, the small gold clock on Slughorn's desk struck eleven.

"My God, is it already this late?"

It's time to go, kids, or we'll be in trouble.

Lestrange, you have your paper due by tomorrow, or you're in solitary confinement.

You too, Avery.

As Slughorn called out the names of the two boys, he slowly got up from his chair and took the empty cup to the table.

The boys left Slughorn's office one by one, but Riddle lagged behind.

Even without Sherlock's explanation, Harry could tell that he was deliberately dawdling, hoping to stay alone in the room with Slughorn.

When Professor Slughorn turned around, he found Riddle still standing there and urged him on:
"Hurry up, Tom—you don't want to get caught outside after lights out, do you?"

"..."

"You know, you're the prefect..."

"Sir, I'd like to ask you something."

"Then ask quickly, child, ask quickly..."

"Sir, I want to ask you if you know anything about... Horcruxes."

The moment the proper noun was uttered, Slughorn's eyes narrowed sharply.

But soon, his chubby fingers began to absentmindedly stroke the stem of the empty wine glass:

"The subject of Defense Against the Dark Arts, is that right?"

Sherlock couldn't help but chuckle.

Slughorn's behavior told him that the old professor knew very well that Horcruxes were not a subject of schoolwork.

Even so, he was still willing to say it.

He really thinks highly of Tom Riddle.

"No, sir—I saw it in a miscellaneous book, but I don't quite understand it."

Riddle appeared to be very honest.

Slughorn gave Riddle a deep look:
"Hmm...yes...it's really hard to find a book that details Horcruxes at Hogwarts, Tom. Because they're very evil things, very evil."

"But you clearly know a lot about this, sir?"

Riddle looked at Slughorn with a sincere expression and said in an adoring tone:

“I mean, a wizard like you—excuse me, I mean, if you can’t tell me…”

Obviously—I only know that if anyone could tell me, it's you—so I wanted to ask—”

Riddle's performance made Sherlock think more highly of him.

In Sherlock's view, Tom Riddle, before he became Voldemort, was far more capable than he was after he had mastered his powers.

That hesitant, casual tone.

That kind of subtle flattery.

A little more would be excessive, a little less would be insufficient.

Just right.

Sherlock himself had far too many experiences of extracting information from unwilling people—he had done it just ten minutes earlier—so he wouldn’t fail to recognize an expert.

Of course, no matter how well Tom Riddle disguised himself, he couldn't fool Sherlock's eyes.

He may have been planning for this moment for several weeks.

"Tom..."

Slughorn ignored Riddle and continued fiddling with the ribbon on the pineapple candy box.

"Actually, it won't hurt to give you a simple introduction, just to help you understand this term."

A Horcrux is an object that contains a part of a person's soul.

"...But I still don't quite understand what happened, sir."

Riddle carefully controlled his voice.

This time, even Harry could feel his excitement.

However, Slughorn seemed oblivious and continued talking about the topic:

"Compared to the term Horcrux, I actually prefer to call it a split soul, because it can split a complete soul and then hide it in an object."

In this way, even if your body is attacked or destroyed, you will not die.

Because a portion of the soul remains in the world, unharmed.

But, of course, to be precise, the soul exists in this form…

At this point, Slughorn frowned deeply.

He seemed to be organizing his thoughts.

Sherlock immediately recalled the Voldemort he had seen two years ago in the room where the Philosopher's Stone was kept.

Without a physical body, it could only stick to the back of Quirrell's head, living in that humiliating way.

In some ways, it wasn't even as good as the ghosts of Hogwarts at that time.

But he is still alive.

To live a life of mere survival.

"Very few people will become like that, Tom, very few indeed."

Rather than end up like that, it would be better to just die; that would be a quicker and more painless death.

Slughorn didn't forget to remind Tom Riddle, but unfortunately, Riddle's greedy expression was barely concealed by the time he heard this.

He revealed an eager expression and continued to press, "How do you split the soul?"

"Oh?"

Hearing Riddle's words, Slughorn felt uneasy.

"Tom, you must understand that the human soul, no, the soul of any living being, should remain whole and intact."

We should revere life; to split one's soul is unnatural and goes against objective laws.

Even those evil dark wizards were unwilling to understand these things.

"But... how exactly should we split?"

Riddle ignored the warnings and continued to press for answers.

"Through evil deeds—the most evil deeds."

Slughorn emphasized: "Murder—only killing can split the soul."

Wizards who wish to create Horcruxes use this destruction to seal away the fragments of the soul that have been split off—

"Sealed off? But how exactly—?"

"There's a spell, don't ask me, I don't know it!"

Slughorn began shaking his head frantically. "Do I look like I've tried—do I look like a murderer?"

"No, sir, of course not."

Riddle realized he had gone too far and quickly apologized:
"I'm sorry... I didn't mean to offend you..."

"No, no, I didn't mean any offense."

Slughorn said gruffly, “It’s normal to be curious about these things… A talented wizard like you will always be drawn to the other side of magic…”

Sherlock can see from this scene that Slughorn really likes Tom Riddle very much, even more so than Lily; it can be said to be true love.

"Yes, sir."

Riddell seized the opportunity and decisively said:

"But what I don't understand is—of course, just out of curiosity."

My question is, how useful is a Horcrux?

Slughorn tensed up immediately: "Tom, what...what are you saying?"

(End of this chapter)