| Details for A Stroll of Secrets |
| Summary: | Ria grills Slughorn on the identity of the Mysterious First Year, Tom Riddle. |
| Date: | September 11th, 1937 |
| Location: | Corridor, Hogwarts |
| Related: | Battle for the Attention of the Slug |
| Characters |
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Ria rolls her eyes at Keelan's further attempts before she comments, "It won't get any cleaner on those patches, trust me." She smirks slightly, referring to the girl's worn uniform, but she says nothing more and makes her way over to Slughorn. "Yes, I was curious about what happened at the sorting feast earlier this month. In all my years here I've never seen it, stutter in such a way. I was wondering if you've witnessed it in the past and if you have any idea what would cause such a reaction?"
Slughorn looks out the corner of his eyes at Ria through his face remains facing forward as they stroll though the castle then down into the dungeon. "What ever do you mean? Stutter? Who stuttered?" He really isn't very good at acting, or lying. He bumbles a bit himself making it quite obvious that he does know to what she's referring and that he's got a BIG SECRET! That he is of course bursting at the seams to tell someone, because if no one knows that he knows an important secret, how could they possibly know that he's important enough to know it in the first place!
"Sorry, I'll clarify. The sorting hat. It stuttered. You remember I'm sure, since I recall saying hello to you that evening," Ria continues to walk with him casually, her arms in her robe pockets. She figures she'll try out the straight forward approach to this. See where it goes. "Why did it stutter like that when it was placed on Mr. Riddle head? It sounded rather…afraid."
The Professor psshposhs softly, "Afraid? Good heavens my girl, the Sorting Hat wasn't afraid. If anything he was in awe." His eyes go like saucers again, a hand coming up to his mouth to cover it in an, oops like way. "Just you be kind and respectful to that Mr. Riddle and you will go far. Mark my words Miss Sykes."
Ria blinks, not expecting that answer and so the next question comes to her easily. "Mr. Riddle has been nothing but the epitome of good manners and admirable ambition," she says. Most likely kid thought it advantageous to suck up to his house prefect, and in turn she ate it up like she was starving. "Professor Slughorn…who exactly is Mr. Riddle. I've never heard of that family name before and from my limited interaction with him I believe he had a rather muggle upbringing."
Slughorn simply can't bear it a moment more when he's very directly asked who the boy is. The Head of Slytherin House looks left, looks right, he looks every angle he can and then suddenly veers to pull Ria into a side passage that no one ever goes into because it's a dead end. "He's the Heir of Slyterin!" His conspiring 'whisper' nearly a shout. He startles himself and looks around again before he takes on an actual softer voice, "Terrible things happened to his mother, died the poor dear. He slipped through the cracks and was raised in some muggle orphanage in London. Dumbledore found him. I think he was almost hoping that Tom would be sorted into Gryffindor, but that would have been preposterous! The last remaining Heir of Slytherin sorted into any other House. So it is our duty Miss Sykes, you and I in this secret that you mustn't tell anyone else about…besides maybe Proudmore and any of the other Slytherin Prefects… but no one must know! We don't want that sort of pressure put on the dear boy."
Ria whoas as they make the sharp turn into privacy. But perhaps no one has ever seen her eyes go wider or her jaw go more slack than it is in this very moment. "He's -what-?!" she exclaims, but then covers her mouth right after realizing how loud she said it. Confining her own volume to a whisper she says, "The -Heir- of -Slytherin-? I wasn't aware that line even existed anymore. Merlin's beard! You have my strictest confidence, sir. At best Proudmore will know and I will make sure he says nothing. I give my word."
Slughorn gives a rapid nod, "Oh yes, they still exist. Perhaps it was a blessing that Tom was raised in that Muggle Orphanage. Truly no matter how unsettling that might be, it could have in the long run been much more pleasant than if he was raised with the Gaunts. They were rather true beacons of the argument of very careful pure-blood selection for one's spouse." It's truly bad when a Pure-Blood himself is saying that a family was too pure-blood and inbred to insanity. It's all there in his face as his jowls jiggle when he shudders at the memory of the Gaunt family. After all he went to school with Tom's Grandfather. "But as I was saying, it is our task to protect and nurture Tom. He's a very special boy and proving already to be very gifted." He straightens up and then leads her back to the maze that leads them 'Home'. "I look forward to your proposals for what to do in the Talent Competition, Miss Sykes. Good day!" He waves and veers off to his own quarters in the dorms.