Chapter 607 Excellent Students and Atypical Professors

"Excellent sense of smell, very familiar with potions... What is your name?" asked Horace Slughorn 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 in the twenty-eight pure-blood tribes, but his views on blood are not extreme. He is somewhat greedy for pleasure and loves vanity, but he is not a bad person at heart.

The founder of the Slug Club is willing to find outstanding students to join his circle and give them special treatment. Thanks to his years of development, outstanding students have emerged in large numbers, including many high-end people in various fields, which makes him have deep connections.

The most famous student he has ever produced is the famous...

"Harry Potter!"

Slughorn's round eyes immediately looked at the lightning-shaped scar on Harry's forehead. His eyes were complicated, and in addition to surprise, he was also a little embarrassed.

"I think you already know Harry well enough, through newspapers or other people's comments..." Dumbledore stepped forward and introduced carefully: "Loren and Hermione are the best students in this class, with excellent grades, in Potions. With his unique insights, he was able to brew polyjuice potion on his own in the second grade.”

Horace Slughorn's eyes lit up for a moment, but he quickly converged his eyes. He rubbed his bulging belly and turned to look at Dumbledore next to him: "How do you know I'm still here? think?"

"My dear Horace..." Dumbledore said with a smile in his voice, "If Voldemort or Death Eaters really come, they will definitely leave the Dark Mark over the house."

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

Slughorn patted his broad forehead with his chubby hand and showed a stunned expression, "Just like last night in Godric's Hollow, the mark of the Dark Devil on Bathilda Bagshot's house was still shining late into the night. Shine..."

He sighed heavily and raised the tips of his two beards: "However, even if I think about it, it's too late. There's not enough time. I just adjusted the chair cover and you guys entered the room."

This sentence fell on the ears of Loren and Hermione, and their eyes moved slightly, showing thoughtful expressions.

Bathilda Bagshot, the famous long-lived wizard, historian of magic, and compiler of textbooks.

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 stood back to back. They looked like they 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 magic wands at the same frequency, causing the damaged furniture to quietly recover and become as bright as new. Jumping back to its original position.

Grandfather clock, chandelier, books, writing desk...

The damaged, torn, and gaping parts of the room were restored to their original appearance, and the blood stains on the wall automatically detached and turned into ashes and floated out of the window.

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

"It's fire dragon blood. The price now is horribly expensive. I only have the last bottle left here. It's a pity 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 will forget, Horace, that Hogwarts will provide sufficient materials to the Potions Professor."

Slughorn was a little moved, but soon put on an alert expression, and turned his face resolutely to the side, not looking at Dumbledore, as if resisting the temptation of some devil: "Of course I Remember, but do you think this can convince me? I tell you, Albus, the answer is no!"

"A sad answer, but I expected it."

Dumbledore's words made Slughorn a little surprised. His smile did not fade and his voice was gentle, "Before saying goodbye, I think we can at least have a drink, just for the past time?"

Slughorn hesitated for a moment and nodded stiffly: "Okay, just one drink!"

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

When Slughorn was pouring wine, the bottle collided with the wine glass, making a clinking sound. His eyes would inadvertently sweep over several children, but he quickly restrained himself from looking at them, snorted coldly, and kept a straight face. He resolutely withdrew his gaze.

"How's it going, Horace, how are you doing lately?"

"It's not very good. I can't breathe very often. I have problems all over my body. It's hard for me to read newspapers because of my old eyesight, let alone read a book. Asthma makes it difficult for me to speak, let alone give lectures. Rheumatism makes my legs and feet look different. It used to be so flexible.”

Slughorn babbled, every fault expressing rejection: "Well, that's to be expected. People get old and become useless."

Dumbledore slowly rotated the wine glass in his hand: "Really, but you must be very agile enough to arrange the welcome scene in such a short time. How long did it take? It must have been less than three minutes."

"Only two minutes!" Slughorn looked a little proud, but quickly calmed down: "When you are in a hurry, you always run faster... I am an old man, Albus, a tired old man, should Choose a quiet life and get some material comforts.”

"You're not even older than me, Horace."

"Yeah, maybe you should consider retiring yourself."

"There is indeed a plan."

"..."

Listening to Dumbledore and Slughorn chatting back and forth, Loren silently took out some hot tea and snacks, handed them to Hermione and Harry who were listening with interest, and looked at the two of them. The expression on the deputy's learned face showed that this trip was not in vain.

The elderly man spoke in a roundabout way.

One sincerely invites, the other firmly refuses.

The two of them were pushing back and forth, without letting the topic fall to the ground during the whole process. If a certain topic could not be continued, Dumbledore could naturally move to other topics, and while talking, he asked about Silla. Ghorn's experiences over the years.

"Ever since the last Wizarding War, they have wanted to recruit you, Horace. Admit it, they want you to use your intelligence for suppression, torture and murder..."

"I didn't give them a chance...Since you publicly issued the warning, I have been elusive. I will not appear in public in wizarding places, will not stay in one place for more than a week, and will not contact any suspicious characters..."

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

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. , no need to go on!”

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

"Go along the hall and take the second door on the left."

"..."

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

Harry glanced at Slughorn quietly, and Slughorn was also looking at them quietly. Hermione mentally sorted out the information she had just heard. Loren was the only one eating tea without anyone else around. He had eaten dinner too early and had just walked a long way, so he was a little hungry.

After the firewood crackled two or three times in the fireplace, Slughorn knocked the wine glass on the table with 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 bringing you here would impress me, especially you, Harry Potter."

Harry blinked, looking confused.

Slughorn stared at those eyes, unable to say the rest of the harsh words. 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 inexplicably: "You learned potions from Severus, right? He is indeed very talented, but I must say , in that class, Lily's talent was no worse than Severus... As a teacher, you shouldn't favor students, but I just prefer her. I even think that she is a child of a pure-blood family. I often treat her Said, she should be in my house, I was the dean of Slytherin at the time...

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

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

"This is Barnabas Guffey, editor of the Daily Prophet, who often consults me for my opinion on the situation; this is Gwenog Jones, captain of the Holyhead Harpies, who only I do, tickets to any Quidditch game are free of charge...

"Ambrosio Froome, you should be familiar with it. I introduced him to his first job back then..."

Hermione listened carefully to these deeds, 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 Hagrid's professor...

This means that a certain chairman a few years older than Hagrid, the winner of the Outstanding Moral Award and the Special Contribution Award, the famous Tom Riddle was also once a student of Professor Slughorn.

Moreover, one is the Head of Slytherin and the other is a Slytherin prefect. The two must have a close relationship!

Loren looked at the hard-working gardener and complained secretly 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 can reward you for their achievements, so if someone makes a mistake, will it implicate you?"

"Well……"

Slughorn's voice gradually lowered, and he unconsciously looked at Loren. The child's eyes were so scary, and his black hair and black eyes reminded him of a student from long ago.

After some thought, Harry asked sincerely: "Sir, these people now know where you are, can they give you something?"

Merlin testified that he was really just confused. If the 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: "In special times, prudent wizards try not to show up. Dumbledore is right, Hogwarts is the safest place, but if I announce my appointment now, that person will definitely Notice me... To be honest, I am not afraid of that person, he was once my student, but the mortality rate of the people he targets is really not good-looking..."

"Who? Voldemort?" Hermione asked.

The moment he heard the name, Slughorn shuddered, with an angry expression on his face, and protested loudly: "Be careful at all times, kid! This name is enchanted, he will sense it. I don't want to end up like Bashi." Damn it for Da Bagshot!"

Loren looked at the retired professor holding the bar and planned to push again. He cleared his throat: "Sir, you probably don't know the recent situation. The mysterious man organized an attack on the Ministry of Magic not long ago. Most of the food around him The Dead Apostle was arrested and is currently awaiting trial. Now is the time when he is short of manpower, so he may be anxious to recruit some capable people..."

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

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

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

At this time, Dumbledore returned to the house: "Okay, kids, we've been bothering Horace for a long time, and I think we should go. Alas, Horace, I'm sorry you don't I'm willing to accept this job, but you are welcome to come back to Hogwarts at any time..."

"This...I..."

Slughorn twirled his thumbs uneasily, watching Dumbledore wrap his traveling cloak tightly, the little wizards put away their refreshments, zipped up their zippers and walked out, and finally couldn't help but chase after them.

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