days at Hogwarts

Chapter 607 Excellent Students and Atypical Professors
"A keen sense of smell and a great familiarity with potions... What's your name?" Horace Slughorn asked gruffly.

"Loren Morgan greets you, sir. This is my friend, Hermione Granger, Harry Potter..." Loren nodded politely, recalling the professor's message in his mind.

He was born into a pure-blooded family of the Twenty-Eight Clans, but his concept of bloodline was not extreme. He was a little pleasure-seeking and vain, but he was not a bad person at heart.

The founder of the Slug Club is happy to discover outstanding students to join his circle and give them special treatment. Thanks to his years of development, many of those outstanding students have become high-end people in various fields, which has made his network of contacts very deep.

The most famous student he trained was none other than the famous...

"Harry Potter!"

Slughorn's round eyes immediately turned to the lightning-shaped scar on Harry's forehead. His expression was complicated, and in addition to surprise, there was also some sighing.

"I think you already know Harry well enough, through newspapers or other people's discussions..." Dumbledore walked forward and introduced carefully: "Loren and Hermione are the best students in this class. They have excellent grades and unique insights in potions. They can brew Polyjuice Potion on their own in the second year."

Horace Slughorn's eyes lit up for a moment, but he quickly retracted his gaze, rubbed his swollen belly, and turned to look at Dumbledore beside him: "How did you know I was still here, Albus?"

"My dear Horace..." Dumbledore's voice was filled with laughter, "If Voldemort or the Death Eaters had really been here, they would have definitely left a Dark Mark over the house."

"Oh, yes, the Dark Mark..."

Slughorn patted his broad forehead with his chubby hand, revealing a look of realization. "Just like last night in Godric's Hollow, the Dark Mark above Bathilda Bagshot's house was still glowing in the middle of the night..."

He sighed heavily, blowing the tips of his beard up. "But even if I remembered, it would be too late. There is not enough time. I just adjusted the chair cover and you came into the room."

When Loren and Hermione heard these words, their eyes moved slightly, revealing a thoughtful expression.

Bathilda Bagshot, the famous long-lived wizard, magical historian, and textbook compiler.

It sounds like Voldemort attacked her last night. What was his purpose?

Dumbledore smiled and asked politely, "Do you need me to help you clean up?"

Slughorn was not polite at all: "Of course, please."

The two men stood back to back. They really looked like friends who had known each other for a long time. One was tall and thin, the other was short and fat, but their steps were very harmonious. They waved their wands in unison, allowing the damaged furniture to quietly restore itself, becoming as bright as new, and jumping back to its original positions.

Grandfather clock, chandelier, books, desk...

The damaged, torn and opened parts of the room were restored to their original state. The bloodstains on the wall automatically fell away and turned into ashes and floated out of the window.

"By the way, what kind of blood is that?"

"It's Fire Dragon Blood. It's incredibly expensive right now. I only have one bottle left. It would be a shame to waste it here..."

With the tinkling sound of the overturned piano, the room returned to its original appearance, with the furniture arranged in an orderly manner and the furnishings bright and comfortable.

Dumbledore put away his wand and said slowly, "I don't think you have forgotten, Horace, that Hogwarts will provide the Potions Professor with sufficient materials."

Slughorn was somewhat tempted, but soon put on a smart expression and resolutely turned his face away, not looking at Dumbledore, as if resisting some devil's temptation: "Of course I remember, but do you think you can convince me with this? I tell you, Albus, the answer is no!"

"It's a sad answer, but I expected it."

Dumbledore's words surprised Slughorn. He smiled and said gently, "Before we say goodbye, I think we could at least have a drink, just to remember the good old days?"

Slughorn hesitated for a moment, then nodded stiffly: "Okay, just one glass!"

Several people sat down on the chairs nearby, with a bright oil lamp above their heads and a quietly burning fire in front of them. The light and warmth added a bit of coziness to this winter night.

When Slughorn poured wine, the bottle and glass collided, making a clinking sound. His eyes would always inadvertently sweep over a few children, but he would quickly restrain himself from looking at them, snorted coldly, and with a stern face, resolutely retracted his gaze.

"Well, Horace, how are you these days?"

"Not very well. I feel short of breath most of the time. I have problems all over my body. My eyes are blurry and it's hard for me to read a newspaper, let alone a book. Asthma makes it difficult for me to speak clearly, let alone give a lecture. Rheumatism makes my legs and feet not as flexible as before."

Slughorn kept muttering, every flaw expressing his refusal: "Alas, this is to be expected. I am old and useless."

Dumbledore held the wine glass in his hand and spun it slowly. "Really? But you must have been very agile to set up the welcoming scene in such a short time. How long did it take you? It must have been less than three minutes."

"Only two minutes!" Slughorn looked a little proud, but soon calmed down: "When the situation is urgent, I always run faster... I am an old man, Albus, a tired old man, I should choose a quiet life and get some material enjoyment."

"You're not even that old as I am, Horace."

"Yeah, maybe you should consider retiring yourself."

“There is indeed such a plan.”

"..."

Listening to Dumbledore and Slughorn chatting back and forth, Loren silently took out some hot tea and snacks and handed them to Hermione and Harry who were listening with great interest. Seeing the expressions on their faces that they had learned something, this trip was not in vain.

Old people tend to speak in a roundabout way.

One invites sincerely, the other refuses with determination.

The two of them pushed the topic back and forth, and never let it fall through. If a topic could not be continued, Dumbledore could naturally switch to other topics. In the process, he asked about Slughorn's experiences over the years.

"They have been trying to recruit you since the last wizard war, Horace. Admit it, they want you to use your intelligence and talents for repression, torture and murder..." "I didn't give them a chance... Since you issued a public warning, I have been on the move, not appearing in public in wizarding places, not staying in one place for more than a week, and not contacting any suspicious characters..."

"It's prudent and clever, but for someone who wants to live a quiet life, isn't this kind of life too tiring?"

Slughorn glared at Dumbledore fiercely: "If you want to tell me that I will live a more peaceful life in Hogwarts Castle, Albus, then save your energy. I will not agree to it. Don't go on!"

Dumbledore remained silent for a moment, then stood up and asked, "Can I use your bathroom?"

"Go down the hallway and turn the second door on the left."

"..."

The principal left temporarily under the pretext of going to the bathroom. The room suddenly became quiet, and the fire burned quietly in the fireplace.

Harry glanced at Slughorn, who was also looking at them. Hermione sorted out the information she had just heard. Only Lauren was eating tea as if no one was around. He had eaten dinner too early and had just walked a long way, so he was a little hungry.

After the firewood in the fireplace crackled two or three times, Slughorn knocked his glass on the table, making a crisp sound: "Don't think I don't know why he brought you here--"

"for what?"

A sudden question interrupted what he was about to say, and Loren looked at him sincerely.

Slughorn glanced at the three of them, snorted, and explained, "Because he thought he would impress me by bringing you here, especially you, Harry Potter."

Harry blinked, bewildered.

Slughorn stared at those eyes and could not say anything more serious. He only sighed softly: "Your eyes really look like hers..."

"Who?" Harry already had the answer in his mind.

"Your mother, Lily Evans..."

Slughorn sighed slowly and glanced at Loren in confusion. "You learned potions from Severus, right? He is indeed very talented, but I must say that in that class, Lily's talent was no worse than Severus's... As a teacher, I shouldn't favor students, but I do favor her. I even think she is a child of a pure-blood family. I often told her that she should be in my college. I was the head of Slytherin at the time...

"Hey, don't look at me like that, don't assume I have any prejudices! I never have any prejudices against students because of their background, college or anything else. I am just like their friend..."

Facing the gazes of the three people, Slughorn shrugged his shoulders, pointed to the many photo frames on the cabinet, and said excitedly: "Look, these are all my former students. This is Dirk Cresswell, a Muggle-born, now the director of the Goblin Liaison Office, who often reveals the inside information of Gringotts to me...

"This is Barnabas Guffey, editor of the Daily Prophet, who often asks me for my opinion on current affairs; and this is Gwenog Jones, captain of the Holyhead Harpies, who will give me free tickets to any Quidditch match if I please...

"Ambrose Frum, you should be familiar with him. I was the one who introduced him to his first job..."

Hermione listened carefully to these stories, silently calculating the ages of these people.

If she remembered correctly, the editor of the Daily Prophet was a few years older than Hagrid, so he was also once Hagrid's professor...

This means that Tom Riddle, a chairman who is several years older than Hagrid, the winner of the Outstanding Character Award and Special Contribution Award, was once a student of Professor Slughorn.

Moreover, one is the headmaster of Slytherin, and the other is a Slytherin prefect. They must have a close relationship!
Loren looked at this hardworking gardener and complained in his heart, you don't even want to mention his name, the student who once had the greatest achievements and the most famous reputation.

He couldn't help but ask, "Sir, your students' achievements can reward you, but if someone makes a mistake, will it implicate you?"

"Uh……"

Slughorn's voice gradually lowered, and he looked at Loren unconsciously. The look in this child's eyes made him feel creepy, and his black hair and black eyes reminded him of a student from long ago.

After some thought, Harry also asked sincerely: "Sir, now that these people know where you are, can they deliver the things to you?"

Merlin testified that he really just wondered, if a former student could find Slughorn, there was no reason why the Death Eaters couldn't find him.

The smile on Slughorn's face completely disappeared, as if someone had stabbed him in the heart, and his eyebrows drooped instantly: "Of course not, I haven't contacted anyone for a year."

He muttered to himself, "During special times, cautious wizards try not to show up. What Dumbledore said makes sense. Hogwarts is the safest place. But if I announce my employment now, that person will definitely notice me... Honestly, I'm not afraid of that person. He was once my student, but the death rate of those he targets is indeed not good..."

"Who? Voldemort?" Hermione asked.

The moment he heard the name, Slughorn shuddered, his expression angry, and he protested loudly: "Pay attention at all times! Child! This name is enchanted, he will sense it, I don't want to end up like Bathilda Bagshot!"

Loren looked at the retired professor who came from a bar and was about to give him another push. He cleared his throat and said, "Sir, you probably don't know the recent situation. The You-Know-Who organized an attack on the Ministry of Magic not long ago. Most of the Death Eaters around him were arrested and are currently awaiting trial. He is short of manpower right now, so he may be anxious to win over some capable people..."

Loren paused for a moment, looking at his increasingly panicked expression: "For a wizard like that, only the place where Headmaster Dumbledore is is safer. After all, it was the Headmaster who thwarted his conspiracy this time. What do you think?"

Slughorn's eyes were a little dazed, as if he was considering his words carefully.

"Sorry, I lost track of time. The sweater knitting patterns in those Muggle magazines are fascinating..."

At this moment, Dumbledore returned to the room: "Well, children, we have bothered Horace for a long time, I think we should go. Alas, Horace, I am sorry that you are unwilling to accept this job, but Hogwarts welcomes you back anytime..."

"This...I..."

Slughorn wiggled his thumbs nervously as he watched Dumbledore wrap his traveling cloak tightly around him and the little wizards put away their refreshments, zipped up their clothes and walked out. Finally, he could not resist and chased after them.

"Okay, okay, I'll do it!"

(End of this chapter)