The last sliver of sunlight vanished behind the mountains. The newborn moon was still too weak to bear the heavy responsibility of lighting the night sky, leaving the heavens an ominous grayish blue.
The flush alcohol had brought to Horace's cheeks gradually faded until he was deathly pale.
His ungainly body sank into the soft back of the sofa, his head turned aside, while his muddled eyes occasionally darted toward the black stone on the table.
Judging by the wary look on Horace's face, he had clearly recognized what it was.
Dumbledore, too, showed a faint look of surprise.
He had not expected Amosta to place the Resurrection Stone directly before Horace.
But after hesitating for a moment, Dumbledore decided to remain silent and watch how matters unfolded.
"Headmaster Dumbledore and I found it in Voldemort's old house. Now, this stone is no longer a Horcrux—"
Amosta elegantly sipped his sherry, his casual manner making it seem as though they were merely discussing whether the refreshments at afternoon tea were any good.
"His old house?"
Horace turned his face back toward Amosta. Amosta could easily detect the astonishment mixed into Horace's bewildered expression.
"That's right. Voldemort's mother came from the Gaunt family, one of the Sacred Twenty-Eight. His maternal grandfather was Marvolo Gaunt. Perhaps you've heard of it, Horace—the Gaunt bloodline traces back to the great Salazar Slytherin—"
Horace's body jolted violently. His lips moved as he murmured,
"Slytherin. No wonder. No wonder—"
It was perhaps ten minutes before Horace gradually came back to himself. He still kept his body curled up, trying to stay as far from the black stone on the table as possible, as though it bore some dreadful curse.
"That couldn't have been easy. How did you know he would hide it there—"
Horace looked cautiously