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Blood spurted from Malfoy's face and chest as though he had been slashed with an invisible sword. He staggered backward and collapsed onto the waterlogged floor with a great splash, his wand falling from his limp right hand.

"Sir — I've got it. I’ve got the memory from Slughorn."

'Very happy,' said Professor Trelawney sniffily.

'Go and wake Severus,' said Dumbledore faintly but clearly. Tell him what has happened and bring him to me. Do noth- ing else, speak to nobody else and do not remove your Cloak. I shall wait here.'

"Are you telling me," said Hermione, "that you're going to go back — ?"

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Harry bowed obediently over the Pensieve and felt his feet leave the office floor. . . . Once again he fell through darkness and landed in Horace Slughorn's office many years before. There was the much younger Slughorn, with his thick, shiny, straw-colored hair and his gingery-blond mustache, sitting again in the comfortable winged armchair in his office, his feet resting upon a velvet pouffe, a small glass of wine in one hand, the other rummaging in a box of crystallized pineapple. And there were the half dozen teenage boys sitting around Slughorn with Tom Riddle in the midst of them, Marvolo's gold-and-black ring gleaming on his finger.

"Oh — oh yeah," said Harry.

Harry hurried over to the door leading to the spiral stair-case, but his hand had only just closed upon the iron ring of the door when he heard running footsteps on the other side. He looked round at Dumbledore, who gestured to him to retreat. Harry backed away, drawing his wand as he did so.

"No —" gasped Harry.

Harrys heart missed a beat. "That's my nickname," he said. '

醫護日記|這特殊時期,武漢當地人給了我非常深刻的印象

"Well, it is inadvisable to do so," said Dumbledore, "because to confide a part of your soul to something that can think and move for itself is obviously a very risky business. However, if my calculations are correct, Voldemort was still at least one Horcrux short of his goal of six when he entered your parents' house with the inten-tion of killing you. He seems to have reserved the process of making Horcruxes for particularly significant deaths. You would certainly have been that. He believed that in killing you, he was destroying the danger the prophecy had outlined. He believed he was making himself invin-cible. I am sure that he was intending to make his final Horcrux with your death. As we know, he failed. After an interval of some years, however, he used Nagini to kill an old Muggle man, and it might then have occurred to him to turn her into his last Horcrux. She underlines the Slytherin connection, which enhances Lord Voldemorts mys-tique; I think he is perhaps as fond of her as he can be of anything; he certainly likes to keep her close, and he seems to have an un-usual amount of control over her, even for a Parselmouth."

"Not at all, not at all, not offended," said Slughorn gruffly, "It is natural to feel some curiosity about these things. . . . Wizards of a certain caliber have always been drawn to that aspect of magic. . . ."

'Professor Snape made a terrible -'

To what?' asked Dumbledore, his eyebrows raised. 'What is it that you suspect them of doing, precisely?'

Harry bowed obediently over the Pensieve and felt his feet leave the office floor. . . . Once again he fell through darkness and landed in Horace Slughorn's office many years before. There was the much younger Slughorn, with his thick, shiny, straw-colored hair and his gingery-blond mustache, sitting again in the comfortable winged armchair in his office, his feet resting upon a velvet pouffe, a small glass of wine in one hand, the other rummaging in a box of crystallized pineapple. And there were the half dozen teenage boys sitting around Slughorn with Tom Riddle in the midst of them, Marvolo's gold-and-black ring gleaming on his finger.

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"Tha was . . . tha was . . . beau'iful!" howled Hagrid, and he collapsed onto the compost heap, crying harder than ever.

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"I need your book," Harry panted. "Your Potions book. Quick . . . give it to me . . ."

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The ramparts were deserted. The door to the spiral staircase that led back into the castle was closed. There was no sign of a struggle, of a fight to the death, of a body.

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"Sir, I wondered what you know about. . . about Horcruxes?',

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'I do not know; I have suspicions that may be entirely wrong.' Dumbledore hesitated, then said, 'Harry, I promised you that you could come with me, and I stand by that prom-ise, but it would be very wrong of me not to warn you that this will be exceedingly dangerous.';

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