The moment Jon mentioned the word "gift," Professor Horace Slughorn's eyes lit up. He hurriedly ushered Jon into the house, even neglecting Mrs. Greengrass beside him to a slight degree.
"I've heard some rumors…" Slughorn said as they walked. "About you being killed by some mysterious figure… surely those were just rumors, right?"
"Of course." Jon explained casually. "Those were merely rumors Professor Dumbledore let slip. I'm standing right here in front of you, perfectly fine, aren't I?"
"Quite right. Then are you still a Hogwarts student?" Slughorn asked excitedly. "I mean, if I could have a student like you, it would be a tremendous honor…"
"Not anymore," Jon shook his head.
"Oh?" Slughorn glanced at him in surprise. "Expelled?"
"More or less…"
"That's all right. Every student expelled from Hogwarts is no ordinary individual," Professor Slughorn said quickly, reassuring him as if afraid Jon might bolt the moment his sore spot was touched. "And with Professor Dumbledore holding you in such high regard, he must have his reasons…"
Mrs. Greengrass followed quietly behind them and entered the house as well.
...
The interior was nothing like the chaos and mess described in the original story from Jon's previous life. Voldemort was currently on the run, and the Death Eaters had all grown timid; Slughorn no longer had to worry about being captured by Voldemort or his followers as he once had.
"Breaking into Muggle houses is actually quite easy once you know how…" Slughorn rambled on. "They don't use Sneakoscopes, but those ridiculous burglar alarms instead. Just cast a Freezing Charm on them—and when you move the piano inside, make sure the neighbors don't see…"
Jon had no interest whatsoever in how to break into Muggle houses. For that very reason, his impression of the short, plump old man before him was rather mediocre—if not for the fact that he needed something from him.
Before long, Jon and Mrs. Greengrass were seated on the sofa in the living room.
"Care for a drink?" Slughorn asked, walking over to the sideboard.
"No, thank you," Jon replied, shaking his head. He then opened his suitcase and began rummaging through it.
Slughorn poured himself a glass of wine, stealing glances at Jon from the corner of his eye, his gaze full of expectation.
Soon, Jon pulled out what he was looking for—an exquisitely crafted gold locket, engraved with a serpent forming an "S" shape.
"I came across this by accident not long ago," Jon said with a smile. "I noticed the letter 'S' on it and wondered whether it might be the Slughorn family crest. So I brought it with me. If it happens to be something your family once lost, then it would be perfect to return it to its rightful owner—as a gift for you, Professor."
As he spoke, Jon presented the locket to Professor Slughorn and Mrs. Greengrass.
The moment Horace Slughorn saw it, he froze in place, his eyes locked onto the locket, unwilling to look away. His hand trembled as he reached out and gently touched its surface.
Diana Greengrass's face was equally filled with astonishment. She glanced from the locket to Jon, her expression full of disbelief.
...
There was no doubt about it—the locket in Jon's hand was indeed one of Voldemort's destroyed Horcruxes.
Genuine beyond question. Absolutely authentic.
This Horcrux had only been split open by Dumbledore using Gryffindor's sword, suffering nothing more than physical damage. With magic, its outward appearance could easily be restored to its original state.
Of course, the damage caused internally by dark magic and Voldemort's soul could not be repaired anytime soon. But those traces were all hidden inside the locket. As long as Jon kept it closed and firmly in his possession, Slughorn would never be able to detect anything amiss.
Both Professor Slughorn and Mrs. Greengrass could easily tell that the mark on it was not the Slughorn family crest at all, but the emblem of Salazar Slytherin.
As much as Slughorn wanted to immediately nod and declare, This is something our family abandoned—give it to me, his skin was nowhere near thick enough to do so.
"This… this is not the Slughorn family's mark," Slughorn finally said, as if forcing the words out with great effort. "It's… it's the mark of Salazar Slytherin. This is a Slytherin heirloom."
"Oh? Is that so?" Jon said, doing his best to look equally shocked.
"Jon, where did you get it?" Mrs. Greengrass asked, clearly having guessed part of the truth.
"Where did I get it?" Jon replied. "I got it from some dimwit called Tom Gaunt. The kid looked rather simple-minded, so I thought he'd stolen it. I paid him ten Knuts to buy it off him."
"Oh… the Gaunt family…" Slughorn's expression made it look as though he might faint at any moment.
"If it's a Slytherin heirloom, then it must be worth quite a bit, right?" Jon asked curiously.
"If it's genuine, it would be worth at least fifty thousand Galleons," Mrs. Greengrass said calmly.
"Then it's probably a fake," Jon said offhandedly, stuffing the locket into his pocket with a careless expression. "There's no way some punk with a strange name like 'Tom Gaunt' could be carrying around something worth fifty thousand Galleons."
He deliberately repeated the surname "Gaunt."
...
Horace Slughorn's hands trembled uncontrollably.
As a stingy yet experienced collector, he could tell at a glance that the locket was absolutely not a fake. And if it really had come from a boy named "Tom Gaunt," then it was almost certainly genuine—for the Gaunt family were the last surviving descendants of Slytherin.
Just as his greedy gaze lingered on Jon Hart's pocket—
Jon turned to look at him, asking casually, "By the way, Professor Slughorn… you seem quite interested in this locket, don't you?"