Harry Potter and the Clash of the Titans

Author's Note:

Please know that I am going to let the information from book seven cook for a little bit before starting on this sequel to Harry Potter, Heir of Gryffindor in earnest. Perhaps unfortunately I have some things I need to get done before I am able to completely devote myself to the task. This is the first chapter if Harry Potter and the Clash of the Titans. Please know that the story is taking shape in my mind and I hope to have it finished and completely posted before the end of December 2007.

Disclaimer:

Harry Potter belongs to J.K. Rowling. This story takes place in an alternate universe. It is the sequel to Harry Potter, Heir of Gryffindor. I am afraid you are going to have to read that story before reading this one because this story picks up where that one left off, just as my first story picked up where J.K. Rowing's Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix leaves off.

Horace Slughorn

Harry was surprised when Albus left the leaving feast early, leaving more than half of his meal untouched. Although he had only attended a few leaving feasts in the past he had never known Albus to leave any meal before pudding. Glancing over at Minerva he could tell that she was just as curious. Turning his attention back to the aging headmaster as he made his way out of the Great Hall Harry could tell that something was bothering him.

Not wanting to draw any undue attention to Albus' disappearance Harry waited until after pudding before following his mentor and guide out of the Great Hall. Reaching out with Ethereal Consciousness he found the headmaster sitting in his office studying a memory in his penseive. Making his way quickly through the castle's maze of hallways and corridors Harry soon found himself approaching the gargoyle guarding the entrance to his friend's office.

With a barely perceptible nod, the gargoyle leapt aside as he approached, clearing the way for his ascent. Mounting the stairs Harry quickly climbed to the landing outside the headmaster's office and was surprised to find that the heavy, oaken door was slightly ajar.

Hesitating briefly, Harry knocked lightly before entering. Fawkes trilled softly as he entered the outer office and Albus glanced up from the memory he had been studying. "Ah, Harry," the headmaster said congenially. "How was your dinner?"

Harry smiled at the old man's seemingly trivial concerns as he entered the headmaster's inner sanctum. Shrugging his shoulders slightly he said, "It was okay I guess, but I'm curious. Why did you leave so soon? What's on your mind?"

Albus hung his head as if in defeat for several seconds before responding. "With everything that has been going on this year," he said, "I fear that I may have overlooked something.

"If nothing else, our adversary is a cunning man. While cutting into my steak this evening something clicked. A light came on, if you will. I had an epiphany, a very disturbing epiphany but an epiphany nonetheless, and did not want to waste any time. So I came up here and began following up on its leads."

After a brief, pregnant pause, during which Harry felt slightly disappointed that Albus seemed intent upon leaving him hanging, Harry shook his head at the esteemed headmaster's habits of speaking in riddles and leaving volumes left unsaid and asked the obvious. "What have you learned?"

Albus looked up and Harry could feel himself being invited into the old man's mind. Before entering, however, he hesitated just long enough to be sure that it was a legitimate invitation and not a figment of his imagination.

What met his mind's eye when he accepted the invitation was a rapid-fire collage of memories. There were scenes of a young Tom Riddle at an orphanage when Albus was delivering his letter and telling him about Hogwarts and the magical world; scenes of Tom's first few years at Hogwarts, which included several disturbing conversations with his professors; scenes from the original Chamber of Secrets episode, which included Myrtle's death and the aftermath; and scenes from conversations Albus had had with people who had had dealings with Tom after his graduation. After what seemed like hours, but which had, in reality, been little more than a few seconds the connection was broken and Harry collapsed onto one of the nearby couches. Almost a minute later he looked over at the wizened old man sitting behind the desk and, after several false starts, said, "Wow, so that's the kind of person we are up against."

Albus nodded his head gravely. "Yes," he sighed, "I'm afraid so. I'm afraid that getting rid of Tom Riddle is not going to be as easy as simply killing him."

Harry glanced curiously up. "Do you remember the conversation Tom had with the former head of Slytherin House?" When Harry nodded Albus continued. "Do you know what a horcrux is, Harry?"

Harry shook his head.

"The creation of a horcrux is among the darkest of the dark arts. It involves intentionally murdering someone with the goal of splitting your soul so that you can place a portion of your soul inside a vessel of sorts. It is, I fear, the means through which Tom Riddle hopes to attain immortality."

Harry breathed in deeply and, leaning back into the couch, let the air out slowly as he considered the ramifications of what he had just learned. "So what you are saying is that so long as Tom has an intact horcrux we will never be able to completely destroy him."

Albus nodded gravely. "Yes. That is precisely what I am saying. What is even more disturbing, however, is that Tom seems to created more than one."

Harry's head shot up and his eyes widened in shock and disbelief. "What!?" he asked. "More than one? Is that even possible?"

With a sigh of resignation Albus sat back in his chair. "Yes," he said tiredly, "I'm afraid so." His eyes misted over with a far away look for a moment as he seemed to lose himself in a memory. "Not many people know this but Igor Grindelwald had three. Each one was different and all of them had to be destroyed before the final battle."

Returning to the present Albus looked over at Harry and said, "What we don't know is how many Tom has created, where they are and how to destroy them. We do, however, know that he has created more than one."

Pushing himself into a more upright posture Harry looked over at his mentor, a guarded glint of determination in his eyes, and asked the obvious questions. "How do we know he's created any and why are you so certain he has created more than one?"

"Many years ago," Albus began, "while Tom was still a student here at Hogwarts, his head of house came to me after a rather disturbing conversation with one of his favorite students. He told me that Tom Riddle had asked him about horcruxes. He was understandably nervous and didn't give many details of this conversation but at least he did let me know about it. My suspicion was is that he knows more than he is telling and that this information may prove critical to our success.

"'As to how we know that Tom has created at least one horcrux, the fact that he has come back, seemingly from the dead, speaks volumes in favor of this conclusion because no matter how powerful we may be there is no return from death. My reason for suspecting multiple horcruxes stems from the events that transpired towards the end of your second year.

"That diary, the one you destroyed with a fang from that basilisk, was a horcrux. Had that been his only horcrux he would not have been able to come back. What we need to know is how many horcruxes Tom created, where he hid them and how each of them is to be destroyed."

Harry sat back, resting his elbow on the arm of the couch and thoughtfully perching his chin on the thumb of the corresponding hand. After several seconds of battle-weary consideration wherein his mental musings traversed many possible scenarios Harry looked up and said, "Do you know where he is? Can we get to him before Tom? Do you think he will talk to us?"

A wry smile spread across Albus' face. "One of my contacts in the Ministry has been tracking Horace for the past several months. It would seem he has chosen the life of a wanderer since word of Tom's return was made public, never staying in one place for more that a week. But, yes, we do know where he is. As to whether or not we can get to him before Tom … only time will tell. However, the fact that Tom is currently licking his wounds from his latest defeat may work in our favor. As to whether or not he will talk … well, let's just say that we can only hope. Horace is not as open with his affections as he could be. He is not necessarily greedy but he does tend to primarily pursue those relationships he feels will, if he plays his cards right, benefit him in the long run and is not inclined to willingly surrender any information unless he can see an immediate benefit, for himself in doing so."

Harry leaned back in his seat and thought this over for several seconds, weighing his options carefully before speaking his mind. If nothing else, his experiences over the past year had taught him the value of a patient and measured response. "From what you've said," Harry began, "his information could determine the outcome of the war. Based upon that alone it is obvious, to me at least, that we need him. In addition, it sounds like he is a shrewd businessman and will not part with that information unless we have something of value to offer him in return. I don't want to break the bank or anything, Albus, but what do we have that he would want?"

Sighing softly, Albus looked Harry in they eye and said, "We have safety, security, his old teaching job and a chance to rub elbows with one of the most famous people in our world today."

Harry's eyes grew wide as the realization of what Albus was suggesting dawned on him. "Me?" he asked. "Why would he want to know me?"

Albus rocked back in chair and laughed. "Oh, Harry!" he laughed. "Do you not realize how famous you are?"

Harry looked at him curiously for a moment and then sighed in resignation. "Yeah, I guess. But I'm nothing special."

After he had stopped laughing Albus looked thoughtfully over at the young man in front of him. "In your mind, I am happy to say, you are no one special; but in the eyes of the people you are very special. One of the reasons I placed you with the Dursleys was so that you could grow up away from all of the fame that would come your way as a result of the events that transpired that fateful night. I did not want you to be … shall we say, full of yourself. I deeply regret that they were incapable of showing you the kind of love you so richly deserved but at least one part of my plan was successful: You are a humble hero, Harry; and for that I am eternally grateful.

"Public perception, however, is an entirely different matter. If you will recall the reception you received when you first entered The Leaky Cauldron with Hagrid you should have some idea as to just exactly how famous you are in the eyes of the people. Horace Slughorn is a man who feeds off of the fame of others. He befriends those who are already famous or who he thinks will make names for themselves and goes out of his way to groom them in such a way that, when the time comes, they will return the favor. The reason I am telling you this is because, with your permission, I would like to use you as the bait we will need to reel him in."

Harry leaned back and withdrew into himself as he worked his way through what Albus was suggesting. On the one hand they needed the information that only Horace Slughorn could provide. On the other he didn't like the idea of serving as bait, much less using his supposed fame as a means to any end, to lure him in. The battle raged in his mind for several seconds as he went back and forth between the two positions.

Albus seemed to sense the nature of this internal battle and remained silent. Fawkes, however, seemed to sense Harry's need for emotional support and flew over to perch on his knee. "Hullo, Fawkes," Harry said as he automatically reached up and started stroking the phoenix's feathers. Almost a minute later, his mind on the verge of making a decision, Harry looked up and asked, "I won't have to play his games will I? I mean, I'm willing to bait the rook if it will get him here and we can get the information out of him but to be honest with you, I have more important things to do than hang around with some glory hound."

Albus smiled, his eyes twinkling merrily, and nodded his head. "No, Harry, I don't think you will have to play his games. He may try to reel you in but you are under no obligation to play his games. In fact, if he becomes too overbearing you have my permission, as an Associate Professor, to deduct house points from him."

Harry couldn't help himself as a broad grin spread across his face. "Which house will he represent?" Harry asked while fighting to control his laughter.

"Horace Slughorn was the head of Slytherin House while he was here and I am hoping he will take up that mantel upon his return because even though Victor has done an admirable job filling in for Severus I'm afraid we will be needing both him and his abilities in other areas."

Harry grinned at the prospect of being able to take house points away from Slytherin but immediately promised himself that he wouldn't do it unless absolutely necessary. "What subject will he be teaching?"

Dumbledore smiled. "Horace was one of the best potions masters Hogwarts has ever seen. He may be a little out of practice but with more than fifty years of experience behind him I don't think it will take him long to return to his previous levels of excellence."

Displaying a wisdom beyond his years Harry nodded his head slightly. "Alright," he said. "When do we leave?"

Albus placed his hands on his desk and stood up smiling. "The sooner the better, I think. We know where he is tonight but if we wait to long he will most likely move again. It will then take a few days for us to find him again, days I am not willing to risk with Tom on the loose."

Fifteen minutes later, as Harry and Albus were walking across the grounds towards front gates, the headmaster sighed. "Harry," he began, "I'm afraid you were a bit preoccupied last year and missed the sixth-year classes on apparation. I have been able to temporarily modify the wards to allow aparation on the quidditch pitch during our training sessions so that I could apparate but I'm curious. Since you have never formerly learned to apparate and since the wards did not seem to be able to stop you back in December, what is the process you use when transporting yourself from one place to another?"

Harry was silent as they approached the gates, his mind transporting him back to the battle on Christmas Day and the forward through their many duels on the quidditch pitch, as he tried to figure out how he had performed that particular bit of magic. When they reached the gates he looked up and said, "I don't know, Albus. It's almost as if it has always been a part of me. All I really do is wrap myself in a blanket of energy and mentally move that energy from one place to another. I know I used it several times during the battle in Hogsmead last week to get the drop on a few Death Eaters but that was a rarity because I didn't want to leave Neville's back uncovered any longer than absolutely necessary." After they had passed through the gates and were approaching the edge of the antiapparation wards he glanced over at his mentor and friend and finished his thought. "I've never really thought about it before but why do you ask?"

Albus stopped just beyond the wards. "Apparation, even for the most accomplished witch or wizard, creates a signature cracking or popping sound. Whatever it is that you are doing is totally silent.

"I will be teaching you to apparate this summer so that you will be able to get your license after your birthday as I would like you to keep this ability to yourself. For now, however, as I am familiar with Horace's location, I would like you to take a firm hold on arm. The sensation is somewhat different than what you are used to but … that, I fear, is the nature of the beast."

Harry looked at his headmaster with a curious expression on his face for a moment before doing as instructed and taking a firm hold on the wizened old man's arm. "Are you ready?" Albus asked.

Almost as soon as Harry nodded his head he felt Albus' arm threaten to twist away so he redoubled his grip as he began to experience the sensations of apparation: He felt as though several crushing bands of steel had wrapped themselves around his head, neck, chest, arms and legs and were squeezing with incredible force. For a moment it felt as though his eyes were being pushed back into their sockets, his ears were being forcefully pressed into the sides of his head and that the air was being forced from his lungs. All in all the experience felt as though he had been forcefully dragged through an extremely small hosepipe.

And then it was over. The next thing Harry knew he was shaking his head and blinking his eyes to clear his vision and regain some sense of normalcy. As his vision cleared he became aware of the fact that they were now standing near the center of an apparently vacant town square. Albus chuckled. "Yes, the sensation does take some getting used to. Oh, and you can turn loose now, Harry."

Harry glanced down at his hand that was still griping the headmaster's arm as though his life depended on maintaining physical contact with his elderly friend. He turned loose of Albus' arm and glanced sheepishly up at his mentor. "Sorry."

Albus chuckled once more and said, "Quite alright, Harry. The first time is always the most difficult." Then, turning on his heel and walking swiftly out of the village square he said, "This way, I think."

Several intersections later they turned up a narrow, cobbled street leading up into the low hills to the west of the village. As soon as they turned the corner Harry felt a perimeter, warning ward go off. "He knows we're here," he said.

Albus nodded slightly. "Yes, he does. I sincerely doubt he knows who we are but he does, indeed, know that someone with magical abilities has passed through his perimeter."

As they continued up the street Harry could feel several hurried spells being cast in a small, single-family dwelling towards the end of the block and almost without warning Albus picked up the pace so that they were jogging up the road. When, less than a minute later, they reached the front gate leading into the small garden that surrounded the cottage Albus stopped. "Oh dear," he said. "Oh dear dear dear." Then, turning to Harry, he said, "Wand out, Harry. And stay close."

The cottage's front door hung at an odd angle from one hinge and the windows on either side looked to have been recently shattered. Going instinctively into battle mode, Harry drew his wand and began scanning his surroundings both visually as well as with his magical senses while staying close to Albus in case they needed to defend themselves. Albus had assumed a similar defensive posture and together they cautiously made their way up the path towards the front entrance.

When they reached the stoop Albus lit his wand so that they could peer into the darkened interior of the home. When he saw the state of the entryway Albus made a soft noise in the back of his throat that told Harry to stay close because, while the hallway before them looked to have been the scene of a major battle the reasons behind its appearance remained unclear. Harry suspected Albus sensed that things were not as they appeared but his training wound not let him turn around to assess the danger for himself.

Moments later Dumbledore whispered, "My right, your left in ten feet, Harry."

When they turned into the room Harry stood guard at the opening while Albus surveyed the damage. After surveying the room Albus made a thoughtful noise in the back of his throat then said, "You can relax, Harry. All is well."

Harry slowly lowered his wand and turned around to face the room. It was a mess. A grandfather clock lay in splintered pieces on the other side of the room; a piano, its keys strewn about, lay overturned to his left; the couch was overturned, its cushions torn asunder; and a crystal chandelier lay shattered across the coffee table in the center of the room. Turning to his right, following Albus' progress into the room, Harry noticed an overturned armchair that seemed to be in reasonably good shape considering the condition of the rest of the room. It was for this reason that Harry was slightly taken aback when Albus drew his wand back and plunged it into one of the chair's cushions. If he thought that was strange it was nothing compare to his reaction when the chair let out a yelp of pain. "Ouch!" the chair yowled before righting itself and transforming into a short, rather plump, disgruntled looking man.

"Ah. Good evening, Horace," Dumbledore said jovially. "How have you been?

The short, squat man briefly scowled up at his former colleague, causing the ends of his wide, walrus-like mustache to quiver irritably. "What do you want, Dumbledore?" the haggard looking man asked.

Albus considered the portly former potions professor, an amused look on his face, for several seconds. "Oh, not much," Dumbledore replied calmly. "All we ask is a little information in exchange for a degree of safety, security and your old job back."

Slughorn's hung his head briefly before looking up. "You know, Albus," he said with an air of resignation haunting his voice, "if you had come to me a year ago I would have said no, but the past twelve months have not been kind. To be honest with you, old friend," he said with a sigh, "I'm tired of running, hiding and always looking over my shoulder. I know you've fought and won a few battles but exactly how secure is Hogwarts?"

Taking this as his cue Harry stepped fully into the room. "With the centaurs, acromantulas and snakes guarding the forest; the merpeople and the giant squid guarding the lake; and contingents of wood elves, high elves, fairies and pixies patrolling the surrounding countryside I think its safe to say that Hogwarts, wards aside, is more secure than it has ever been."

Horace's eyes grew wide when he saw Harry. "Oho!" he said. "Oho! So that's how it is, Albus. You've brought Mister Potter along to help convince me. Is that it?"

Harry inwardly groaned at Slughorn's acknowledgement of his supposed fame and was glad Albus had warned him about this possibility.

"Actually, Horace," Albus began, "yes. I have brought Harry along to help me convince you to return. But it is not solely for the reason you suppose. With Severus' death we are in need of a potions master and you are in need of a safe and secure location where you can enjoy your remaining years.

"It has been said that I am the only one that Tom Riddle has ever feared. After the second battle of Hogsmead, however, it would seem that he has come to fear young Harry here as well. We are prepared to offer you a safe and secure home at Hogwarts in exchange for the information Harry has requested and your services as a potions master for the next few years."

Horace looked between the two warriors, his eyes shifting from Harry to Albus to Harry and back again for several seconds and Harry could tell that he was waging an internal battle with the various aspects of his personality. With a flick of his wand Horace righted one of the overturned chairs and repaired it cushion before collapsing into it with a sigh. After several seconds, during which Harry and Albus repaired much of the damage done in Horace's rush to avoid detection, he looked up at Harry and asked, "Does he really fear you?"

Harry glanced over at Horace with a thoughtful look on his face. Breathing in deeply he thought back to their most recent confrontation. "Yes," he said softly, "he does. He now knows how powerful I have become. I honestly don't think Tom Riddle will be coming back to Hogwarts any time soon and even though I still have one year to go I will be doing everything in my power to bring Riddle's reign of terror to an end."

Slughorn's face became unreadable for several seconds as he apparently weighed his options. "But can you protect me from You-know-who?"

Albus shook his head sadly. "Horace, my dear friend, you know his name. He was, after all, one of your favorites almost fifty years ago."

Horace flinched then blushed, a sense of resignation finally claiming his features as he apparently came to terms with the role he had inadvertently plaid in the creation of a monster. "Yes," he sighted. "I know. What do you want?"

"We want to know how many horcruxes he was planning," Harry said, choosing the direct approach rather than couching his words in any form of subtlety.

Horace fell silent for several minutes, his body radiating an air of resignation, and simply watched as Harry and Albus completed their repairs. When they were finished and had seated themselves in anticipation of his decision Horace looked up and softly said, "Six. He said that he was going to create six horcruxes because seven is the most powerful magical number and he wanted his soul to be in seven parts."

Harry's eyes bulged slightly. "Six?' he asked in disbelief. "Six horcruxes?"

Horace nodded, a guilty blush creeping up his neck. "Yes, I'm afraid so. And I'm ashamed to say that I thought highly of Tom Riddle while he was in school. He showed such promise; but when he started talking about horcruxes I didn't know what to do. I told you about that conversation, Albus, because I was scared. He had taken me into his confidence and, to be honest with you, I feared for my life. I still do, in fact. But if he fears both of you and if you can guarantee my safety then I will return."

"We can guarantee your safety," Albus began, "so long as you are on Hogwarts grounds. And we will assign a body guard to you whenever you leave the grounds."

Horace immediately looked at Harry, a hopeful look in his eyes. Harry shook his head. "No," he said. "I'll help you out when I can but I don't know how often that will be. We will, however, assign one of our better fighters to act as your personal body guard whenever you leave the castle grounds."

Slughorn looked slightly crestfallen but nodded his head in understanding.

"Very well," Dumbledore chirped. "When will you be returning, Horace?"

The round little man stood up and looked around the room, a sad smirk playing across his features. "I've had to abandon most of my worldly possessions over the past few months," he said thoughtfully before looking up at the two warriors in front of him. "All I've kept are a few necessities so if you can give me a few minutes I will be ready to return tonight."

Harry considered Horace Slughorn for several seconds, realizing that even though the man had gone out of his way to stay out of the fighting the war had taken its toll upon him as well. "Very well," Albus said from Harry's right. "You will have to forgive us, Horace, but recent events have taught both Harry and myself not to let anyone out of our sight until our mission has been completed. So, if you don't mind, I will accompany you while you gather your things."

Horace looked as though he was about to protest but then apparently thought better of it. "Oh, very well," he said. "I suppose it is only to be expected. I haven't been keeping up with the most recent news on the war but what I have read is enough."

"Harry," Albus commanded, "the perimeter is yours."

Harry nodded quickly and reclaimed his position on the couch, dropping into a light meditative state and expanding his consciousness to include the entire village as well as the surrounding countryside.

"What's he doing?" Horace asked curiously.

"Harry is monitoring our perimeter," Albus said cryptically. "It is one of his … special abilities, shall we say. Time, however, is of the essence, Horace, so I suggest we get busy."

Five minutes later, as Albus and Horace returned to the sitting room, a small trunk and a carpet bag in hand, Harry roused himself. "All's clear," he said. "But we don't want to apparate away because, even though it is the Ministry, we are being monitored. I know they did a purge last summer but I would rather be safe than sorry."

Horace's eyes widened in shock and horror. "They've been monitoring me?" he squeaked.

"At my request," Albus said softly. "I asked Amelia to begin tracking you at the end of April. Not only do I need a new potions master but I have feared for your safety, given your history with Tom Riddle."

Horace laughed nervously. "You and me both, Albus. You and me both." Then changing the subject he asked, "If we can't apparate, how are we going to get to Hogwarts?"

Albus looked over at Harry. "Harry," he asked, "do you feel up to it?"

Harry nodded and held out his arms. "Hold on to you luggage and hold onto my arms," he said.

Albus did not hesitate but Horace, unsure of what was about to happen, reluctantly reached out and took hold of Harry's right arm. The next thing Horace knew he was standing in Albus' office at Hogwarts. "H-h-h-how … how did you do that?" he squeaked as the blood drained from his face.

Harry quickly turned towards the pudgy professor, taking him by the arm and guiding him to a cushy armchair before he fainted. "Trade secret, I'm afraid," he said with a wink in Dumbledore's direction.

After Harry was sure Horace was safely settled into his chair he glance over at the headmaster. "I'll leave you two to your business. I'm going to head up to the dorms. I'll see you in the morning."

Albus nodded, a gentle, grateful smile the only confirmation Harry needed to know that their mission had not only been successful but that they had suitably impressed Horace with the urgency of their situation.