The house-elf had come dashing back into the room carrying

The house-elf had come dashing back into the room carrying a tray of little cakes, which she set at her mistress's elbow.

“Help yourself, Tom,” said Hepzibah, “I know how you love my cakes. Now, how are you? You look pale. They overwork you at that shop, I've said it a hundred times...

”

Voldemort smiled mechanically and Hepzibah simpered.

“Well, what's your excuse for visiting this time?” she asked, batting her lashes.

“Mr. Burke would like to make an improved offer for the goblin-made armor,” said Voldemort. “Five hundred Galleons, he feels it is a more than fair —”

“Now, now, not so fast, or I'll think you're only here for my trinkets!” pouted Hepzibah.

“I am ordered here because of them,” said Voldemort quietly. “I am only a poor assistant, madam, who must do as he is told. Mr. Burke wishes me to inquire —”

“Oh, Mr. Burke, phooey!” said Hepzibah, waving a little hand. “I've something to show you that I've never shown Mr. Burke! Can you keep a secret, Tom? Will you

promise you won't tell Mr. Burke I've got it? He'd never let me rest if he knew I'd shown it to you, and I'm not selling, not to Burke, not to anyone! But you, Tom,

you'll appreciate it for its history, not how many Galleons you can get for it.”

“I'd be glad to see anything Miss Hepzibah shows me,” said Voldemort quietly, and Hepzibah gave another girlish giggle.

“I had Hokey bring it out for me... Hokey, where are you? I want to show Mr. Riddle our finest treasure... In fact, bring both, while you're at it...”

“Here, madam,” squeaked the house-elf, and Harry saw two leather boxes, one on top of the other, moving across the room as if of their own volition, though he knew

the tiny elf was holding them over her head as she wended her way between tables, pouffes, and footstools.

“Now,” said Hepzibah happily, taking the boxes from the elf, laying them in her lap, and preparing to open the topmost one, “I think you'll like this, Tom... oh, if

my family knew I was showing you... They can't wait to get their hands on this!”

She opened the lid. Harry edged forward a little to get a better view and saw what looked like a small golden cup with two finely wrought handles.

“I wonder whether you know what it is, Tom? Pick it up, have a good look!” whispered Hepzibah, and Voldemort stretched out a long-fingered hand and lifted the cup by

one handle out of its snug silken wrappings. Harry thought he saw a red gleam in his dark eyes. His greedy expression was curiously mirrored on Hepzibah's face, except

that her tiny eyes were fixed upon Voldemort's handsome features.

“A badger,” murmured Voldemort, examining the engraving upon the cup. “Then this was...?”

“Helga Hufflepuff's, as you very well know, you clever boy!” said Hepzibah, leaning forward with a loud creaking of corsets and actually pinching his hollow cheek. “

Didn't I tell you I was distantly descended? This has been handed down in the family for years and years. Lovely, isn't it? And all sorts of powers it's supposed to

possess too, but I haven't tested them thoroughly, I just keep it nice and safe in here...”

She hooked the cup back off Voldemort's long forefinger and restored it gently to its box, too intent upon settling it carefully back into position to notice the shadow

that crossed Voldemort's face as the cup was taken away.

“Now then,” said Hepzibah happily, “where's Hokey? Oh yes, there you are—take that away now, Hokey.”

The elf obediently took the boxed cup, and Hepzibah turned her attention to the much flatter box in her lap.

“I think you'll like this even more, Tom,” she whispered. “Lean in a little, dear boy, so you can see... of course, Burke knows I've got this one, I bought it from

him, and I daresay he'd love to get it back when I'm gone...”

She slid back the fine filigree clasp and flipped open the box. There upon the smooth crimson velvet lay a heavy golden locket.

Voldemort reached out his hand, without invitation this time, and held it up to the light, staring at it.

“Slytherin's mark,” he said quietly, as the light played upon an ornate, serpentine S.

“That's right!” said Hepzibah, delighted, apparently, at the sight of Voldemort gazing at her locket, transfixed. “I had to pay an arm and a leg for it, but I

couldn't let it pass, not a real treasure like that, had to have it for my collection. Burke bought it, apparently, from a ragged-looking woman who seemed to have

stolen it, but had no idea of its true value —”

There was no mistaking it this time: Voldemort's eyes flashed scarlet at the words, and Harry saw his knuckles whiten on the locket's chain.

“— I daresay Burke paid her a pittance but there you are... pretty, isn't it? And again, all kinds of powers attributed to it, though I just keep it nice and safe...

”

She reached out to take the locket back. For a moment, Harry thought Voldemort was not going to let go of it, but then it had slid through his fingers and was back in

its red velvet cushion.

“So there you are, Tom, clear, and I hope you enjoyed that!”

She looked him full in the face and for the first time, Harry saw her foolish smile falter.

“Are you all right, dear?”

“Oh yes,” said Voldemort quietly. “Yes, I'm very well...”