Who let this Dementor into Hogwarts!

Chapter 507 The Shady Deal Between Galleons and Lion's Saliva

“That’s how it is when you get old,” Slughorn insisted. “I’m a tired old man, and I have the right to a peaceful retirement and some material enjoyment.”

“Life here can hardly be considered peaceful, Horace,” Dumbledore asked. “Did you take so many precautions simply because you knew I was coming, or because of other people?”

“Who else would break into my place in the middle of the night?” Slughorn said bluntly.

"Didn't the Death Eaters try to recruit you?" Dumbledore asked. "I suppose they wanted you to use your intelligence for rebellion, torture, and murder."

“They won’t find me.” Slughorn glared at Dumbledore. “I’m always on the move, moving from one Muggle house to another—this house’s owner is on vacation in the Canary Islands.”

"That must be so tiring," Cohen clicked his tongue. "You're hardly having a peaceful time either."

“At least I’m living comfortably.” Slughorn couldn’t help but glance at Cohen for a moment. “I don’t want to be identified as an adversary by a group of terrorists—”

Suddenly, Dumbledore stood up.

"Are you leaving?" Slughorn asked expectantly. "Of course, those two little devils can stay here comfortably for the night—until you're done—"

“No, I just wanted to ask if I could use your bathroom,” Dumbledore said.

Slughorn immediately felt dejected.

"Go through the foyer, the second door on the left."

Dumbledore left quickly, as if he were in a real hurry.

Now only two young people and an old man are left in this living room.

“I know why he brought you two here.” Slughorn shifted in the sofa, a movement that looked rather difficult since his legs couldn’t reach the ground.

“It’s obvious you like us a lot,” Harry said.

“It can’t be less than fifty Galleons,” Cohen said after a moment’s thought.

"?"

“Cohen…” Harry said, rubbing his forehead.

“I’m talking about dragon’s blood,” Cohen said. “What do you think I’m thinking—I can sell you dragon’s blood, the fresh kind, if you come to work at Hogwarts, but you’ll have to bring your own lamb to trade with the dragons I raise.”

“That won’t bribe me—wait, what did you say? Your pet dragon?!” Slughorn stared at Cohen with teary eyes, then suddenly realized, “Ah, I believe your father will pull some strings for you… but teaching at Hogwarts is still too dangerous… too dangerous…”

Then, as if reminiscing, he began to talk about Cohen and Harry's parents.

“I used to teach your parents when I was a teacher, Lily Evans, and Rose Burke… excellent, intelligent, and of course Edward—look at him now, he’s Minister for Magic.” Slughorn’s gaze darted between Cohen and Harry, then he got up from the sofa, though there seemed to be no difference in his height between sitting and standing.

“Look at these, they’re all my former students. They’d send me things all the time—” Slughorn said. “This is Barnabas, the editor of the Daily Prophet, who would write to ask for my opinion on current events—and this is Ambrose Froome from Honeydukes, the owner of Honeydukes, who would send me a gift basket every birthday because I helped him get his first job—and this one, you can see him if you crane your neck, the one in the back—Gwenog Jones, captain of the Holyhead Harpy. People always ask me why I’m so close to the Harpy players; I can get free tickets whenever I want!”

Slughorn became increasingly excited as he spoke, appearing to be in high spirits.

“But now that you’re hiding, they can’t find you, right?” Cohen said.

Slughorn was actually talking to himself when he said all that—he also wanted to go back to school, but after Voldemort's resurrection, getting involved with the Ministry of Magic and Hogwarts meant he was openly facing Voldemort as an adversary.

“Of course not.” Slughorn’s expression darkened, like an old walrus lying on the ice, having lost its fish. “But now a wise wizard would avoid showing his face, wouldn’t he? Of course, I’m not talking about Edward’s management problems—he does much more than the previous minister, but the Mystic is indeed not an easy person to deal with…” “He’s looking for you, isn’t he?” Cohen said.

"Hmm?" Slughorn said, his eyes darting around.

“Hiding is no safer than being at Hogwarts, it’s like the difference between hiding Galleons under a dung can in Diagon Alley and hiding them in Gringotts,” Cohen said.

“And Dumbledore was Voldemort’s biggest fear, wasn’t he?” Harry chimed in.

“That’s true…” Slughorn sat back down on the sofa.

“I can reduce it to forty gallons,” Cohen said. “If there are credits in exchange, I can reduce it by another five.”

This time, Slughorn didn't say anything about "dragon blood can't buy me off."

“And the saliva of the Chimera Beast,” Cohen added.

creak-

The door to the hallway rang; Dumbledore had returned from the bathroom.

“Harry, Cohen, it looks like we should head back,” Dumbledore said. “Since Horace is unwilling, we really shouldn’t bother him for too long.”

"Are you leaving?" Slughorn asked hesitantly.

“Yes, it’s clear that our invitation has failed.” Dumbledore said, feigning indifference. “Alas, it’s a pity you won’t accept the job, Horace. Of course, you are welcome to come back anytime you wish.”

“Well, well, that’s too kind of you…” Horace said.

"Then goodbye," said Dumbledore.

"Goodbye?" Harry stood up and waved to Slughorn.

"Goodbye, Professor Slughorn." Cohen also stood up and walked towards the door, waving his hand dismissively as before.

Until they arrived at the door.

"Okay, I'll do it!" Slughorn panted, as if he'd just run a lap. "I'll do it!"

Dumbledore turned around in surprise.

Are you willing to go back to work?

“I must be crazy…” Slughorn said, “but, yes, that’s right, I’m willing.”

“That’s wonderful,” Dumbledore said happily. “Then Horace, we’ll see you on September 1st.”

“I’ll ask for a raise, Dumbledore,” Horace added. “And, Cohen, what about that thirty-five Galleons of fresh dragon blood and chimera saliva you mentioned—”

"Deal." Cohen raised his eyebrows.

(End of this chapter)