10.

A/N: Thank you for the wonderful reviews, but unfortunately I may be a little slow in answering them. Thank you all for your support.

Enjoy.

Dumbledore knocked 3 times on the wooden door before a clear "Come in" came from inside the room.

"Albus," Horace Slughorn said in surprise as he took in the sight of the Headmaster on his threshold, "Isn't it a little bit late for a visit?"

"I would have come earlier if you were here Horace," Dumbledore said in a somewhat chiding tone. He had never appreciated his professors leaving school grounds during the academic year and if Horace was to insist upon continuing his little trips to town to stock up on chocolate, he will just have to bear with the Headmaster's disapproving gazes.

"Oh Albus," Horace shook his head, "Must we always do this? Chocolate is my life! And you know how I can't trust anyone to send me any food by owl mail. What if it was intercepted and poisoned by our enemies?"

"Horace, these "enemies" as you called them only exists inside your head."

Horace rolled his eyes and gestured for the Headmaster to sit down opposite him by the fire. Although it wasn't nearly cold enough to justify having a lit fireplace, but Horace had always liked the feel and would put on a fire regardless of the temperature. Another quirk that Albus disapproved of.

"What are you doing here Albus?" he asked, changing the subject.

"I want to talk to you about Tom," Dumbledore said bluntly and watched as Slughorn's shoulders slumped a little against the leather backing of his high chair.

"Well, I do think I will need some alcohol for this."

With a wave of his wand, the other man levitated over a bottle of expensive fire whiskey and poured two glasses of the amber liquid. He handed one of the glasses to the Headmaster, who took it without comment.

"Despite your misgivings about the boy Albus," Slughorn said, "He is not a Dark Lord in the making."

"Yes, yes," Albus said impatiently, "But I want your opinion on his recent decision to send a courtship letter to young Harry."

"Oh yes," Slughorn's eyes widened a little at the reminder, "That was rather surprising, wasn't it?"

"Surprising is such an understatement," Dumbledore sighed, "It came out of nowhere! What could have gone through that boy's head?"

"What about young Potter?" Slughorn questioned, "Do you know why he accepted? He didn't look as if he would have truly welcomed Tom's advances."

"Oh that," Dumbledore waved the concern away with the bat of a hand, "It was obviously to make his sister jealous. That boy is so transparent that it is a wonder that no one in his family saw through his little game."

Slughorn pursed his lips in thought before taking another sip of his drink.

"I can see why you would be…intrigued by this whole affair," he admitted, "Young Tom have a lot to offer to young Harry, but I just couldn't see what young Harry can offer to Tom. Money isn't it since Tom is much better off than the Potters in any case."

"I hope we're not making a big mistake by letting them continue with this farce."

Slughorn snorted at that.

"Albus," he said seriously, "Who do you think we are? It is not our jobs to meddle in the private life of our students."

"That is true," Albus replied, "But the Potters have always been close friends of mine. I would hate to see their son being manipulated for some nefarious means."

"You are one paranoid old man," Horace commented with some resignation in his voice, "If it makes you feel any better, I'll keep an eye out of the Power Couple as the kids are calling it these days. I have extended an invitation to young Harry to attend my traditional beginning-of-the-semester party; maybe I can get more information then."

"Thank you Horace," Albus said and was about to stand up when Slughorn shot out a hand to stop him.

"Just one second Albus," he said, "I still want to ask you something."

"What is it?" Dumbledore replied wearily.

"Is it true," Horace started, "That Anna Castillo was here?"

"Yes," Albus answered easily, "She came to see her son, Evan."

"Oh and I missed her," Horace frowned in disappointment, "That is such a shame. I would have loved to talk to her. Her work regarding the Deathly Hallows is truly amazing. Did Tom get to speak with her? He's a big fan after all. That boy is obsessed with Death magic and the subject of immortality."

"Yes," Dumbledore replied slowly, thoughts suddenly forming in his head, "He did get to speak to her. He was with Evan when they came to pick her up at my office."

"That must be nice," Horace smiled a little wistfully, "I wonder what they talked about."

I wonder as well, Albus thought, but didn't say.

"Before meeting Tom, I never thought I would meet someone as obsessed with the Hallows as Anna. Those two would make a terrifying pair if they ever decided to work together."

"So Tom believes that the Deathly Hallows exists?" Albus asked curiously, regaining his seat. Due to Tom's active dislike for his person, the Headmaster's knowledge about the boy's more personal beliefs was practically non-existence. Luckily, Slughorn was there to fill in the void.

"Oh of course he does," Slughorn smiled good-naturedly before freezing.

"Horace?" Albus asked in confusion.

"Now that is a thought," Horace said slowly, eyes going wide.

"What?"

"Is it possible that Tom wanted to get closer to Harry because he wants access to the Potter's famous Cloak of Invisibility?"

Albus' eyes widened as well. He truly hadn't thought about that.

"The Cloak rumored to be the one talked about in the legends; the Cloak crafted by Death itself and gifted to the brothers."

"Surely it can't be," Albus said weakly.

Horace snorted.

"Albus, really. Are you trying to convince me or yourself? You know as well as I do that the Potter's famous Cloak is not normal. After all, no normal Cloak can withstand the test of time for nearly 6 centuries. The best Cloak I have seen on the market today can only last for about a century."

"Even if it is so," Albus interrupted, "James has that Cloak, not Harry."

"Everyone knows that the Cloak is passed down from father to son," Horace replied, waving his concern away.

Albus pursed his lips.

"We'll have to keep an eye on them," he finally said, "But we have to be careful not to be too obvious about it."

"Agreed, old friend," Horace said, raising his glass up in a salute, "Agreed."

"What do you suppose would go well with this dress?" Hermione asked, holding up two nearly identical necklaces for Harry's benefit, "This one or this one?"

"Hermione," Harry complained. It was a Monday night, two days before the start-of-term party at Slughorn's. "I don't know! They all look the same."

"Now, now," the young woman chided, pursing her lips in thought before discarding the one on the left.

"Hermione," Harry groaned, "Don't you have anyone else to do this with you? I know absolutely nothing about fashion!"

"I want to look good," Hermione protested, "I'm never invited to any social gatherings with people of our own age and now that I am, I don't want to waste this opportunity."

"I can't believe that Malfoy asked you to be his date to Slughorn's event," Harry mumbled to himself. He had never liked Malfoy and didn't trust him to not hurt Hermione in the long run.

"Oh stop it," Hermione said, rolling her eyes, "He's a perfect gentleman, I'll have you know. He's not using me for some plan."

"How do you know that?" Harry objected, "He's a Slytherin."

"And we are Ravenclaws," Hermione interrupted, "We are supposed to use our logic and not let some centuries old feud dictate our decisions."

"I guess you're right," Harry mumbled, "But I still don't trust Tom. People may say he's charming, but sometimes he can be so…smarmy."

Hermione actually laughed at that.

"Smarmy, Harry? I really can't see how that can be applied to Tom Riddle."

"Yeah well," Harry huffed, "I don't really have a lot of words in my arsenal to describe Tom nor do I spend a lot of time trying to come up with new ones."

"Of course not," Hermione allowed, attention returning to her mirror.

"You look fantastic Hermione," Harry tried once more, "Stop worrying so much. I guarantee that you will be the Belle of the Ball."

"I guess," Hermione shrugged, letting her hand fall from her hair, "It's just…I don't know…"

Harry opened his mouth and was about to speak when a knock on the door attracted his attention.

"Now who could that be?" he asked Hermione before he went to open it. To his surprise, Luna Lovegood stood on the other side, this time wearing a hat that was eccentric even by wizarding standards. It was humongous and measured at least a meter; Harry didn't know how it was staying up, but he was sure it involved spells more complicated than those that was currently being taught.

"Hi," Luna said happily.

"Hi," Harry greeted back, eyes still fixated on the…thing…on Luna's head.

"Who is it Harry?" Hermione asked, coming over to check out the new arrival. She stopped short when she caught sight of Luna.

"Ehhh…" she said eloquently.

"Luna," Harry said, managing to recover faster than Hermione, "This is my best friend, Hermione Granger. Hermione, this is Luna Lovegood. She's also in our year."

"It's nice to meet you Hermione," Luna told her, "I'm sorry for your loss."

Harry blinked.

"Luna," he started, "Hermione didn't lose anything. Right Hermione?"

He turned towards the girl, expecting her to back him up and was surprised when Hermione didn't.

"How did you know?" she asked instead.

"You're invaded by Nardles," Luna said cheerfully, "Which means that you've lost something dear to you. Judging by how well you are taking it, it probably isn't a family member."

"Hermione?" Harry asked a little desperately, wanting some order to return to his world.

"Luna's right," Hermione said, "I did lose…something precious."

"Luna's right," Harry muttered incredulously to himself, "That's not something we hear every day."

"Be nice," Hermione chided and invited Luna to come look at her outfits. Harry closed the door to the room, feeling a little bit out of his element. That generally happens after he had a run-in with Luna.

"Luna, what do you think I should wear with this dress?" he heard Hermione ask and couldn't help but wince. Not that he disliked Luna, but he hoped Hermione would think twice before taking any fashion advice from the blond girl.

"What are you doing here Luna?" He couldn't help but ask as he watched Luna take up one of Hermione's high heels and look at it dubiously.

"The Wheels of Fates have finally begun to turn and I'm here as a witness," Luna replied cryptically before abruptly turning to Hermione, "Can I ask how you are expecting to survive a night with these contraptions on your feet? They look like modern torture devices."

As Hermione instructed Luna on the joys of wearing high heels, Harry tried and failed to put Luna's words out of his head.

TBC

Here's food for thought: If Dumbledore has the Heir of Magic prophecy, why isn't he doing more to find the Heir before someone else gets the same idea?