TheFanficGOD
patreon
HP464- Slughorn
🕑 Added 2025-07-10 21:28:07 +0000 UTCHermione waved her hand. “He invites promising students into his little network... sons and daughters of influential families, talented witches and wizards, even Muggle-borns if they’ve got exceptional skill. He likes to… keep connections.”
“Oh, brilliant,” Zabini muttered, lounging back lazily. “Another Professor fishing for favourites. Can’t wait.”
“So?” Pansy asked, idly flicking a strand of hair over her shoulder. “Do we humour him or stay put?”
“We go,” Harry said simply, sliding his letter back into the envelope. “It is the first week of term. Best to see what kind of game he’s playing early on.”
“Agreed,” Daphne said with a small nod. “Besides, I would rather deal with him now than have him sniffing around later.”
“You sound like he is some sort of predator,” Neville said lightly, though the corner of his mouth tugged upward in amusement.
Daphne didn’t even blink. “In Slytherin terms? He is. Just a polite one.”
That earned a snort from Susan, who nudged Hannah with her elbow. “Sounds like dinner and a show.”
“Or a trap,” Astoria chimed in. “Maybe he lures us in and then makes us stir cauldrons all evening.”
Harry glanced over and gave her a smirk. “If he does, I am volunteering you first.”
Astoria pulled a face. “Horrid.”
“You will live,” Tracey said dryly.
Hermione stood, sliding her notes back into her bag. “Best not to keep him waiting. If he is anything like what I’ve read, he will take lateness as an insult.”
“Lead the way, then,” Harry said, getting up. “Let’s get this over with before the tea goes cold.”
The rest followed suit. Susan tucked her letter neatly into her bag as if Slughorn’s invitation were another item to catalogue, while Tracey flipped hers over.
“Should we take bets on how fast he will bring up his Slug Club?” She asked.
“I give him five minutes,” Daphne replied smoothly, folding her invitation and slipping it into her pocket. “If he lasts longer than that, I will be impressed.”
“Three galleons says he starts the meal with some gushing about Harry,” Susan added.
Harry arched a brow. “Only three? That is insulting. At least make it worth my time.”
A group of younger students peered out as they passed, whispering furiously, their eyes wide as they spotted Harry at the head of the group. One boy even dropped a Chocolate Frog in his lap, staring like he’d seen Merlin himself.
“Poor kid probably thinks you duel Dark Lords before breakfast,” Daphne murmured, just loud enough for Harry to hear.
“Let him believe it,” Blaise said casually. “Might stop him asking for autographs.”
“Autographs? You mean marriage proposals,” Susan teased. “The Prophet is still printing those awful ‘eligible bachelor’ lists.”
Harry rolled his eyes but didn’t argue. “If anyone sends me another cursed love poem, I am sending it back annotated.”
Hermione, walking just behind him, gave a soft laugh. “Annotated? Only you would mark their spelling mistakes in red.”
“Someone has to raise standards,” Harry replied dryly, pushing open the door to compartment C.
Inside, Horace Slughorn sat perched like a well-fed toad on a too-small chair, his walrus moustache twitching as he looked up. The compartment had been enlarged with an Extension Charm to fit the group, the table set with silverware and a few steaming dishes already laid out.
“Ah! Harry, my boy!” Slughorn beamed, rising with surprising speed for someone his size. “And what a glittering company you keep! Positively dazzling.”
Tracey leaned in slightly, whispering under her breath, “Didn’t even let the plates cool.”
Harry fought back a grin and stepped forward. “Professor Slughorn. Lovely to meet you.”
“Lovely, lovely indeed!” Slughorn said, his voice warm and oily all at once. “I must say, I’ve heard so much about you. And these fine young witches and wizards too! Do come in, all of you, don’t be shy. Take a seat, take a seat!”
Astoria darted forward and claimed a spot near the window, swinging her legs as she settled in. Daphne and Tracey slid into seats beside Harry, while Hermione and Neville took chairs opposite. Susan and Hannah shared a quiet smile as they found places at the far end.
Slughorn clapped his hands, and the plates refilled themselves in a swirl of steam. “Now, now, eat! You will need your strength for a new year at Hogwarts, eh? Especially with the level of talent I see before me.” His eyes swept the group like a collector eyeing a room full of priceless artefacts.
Ginny laughed, exchanging a glance with Luna. “Called it,” she mouthed.
Harry pretended not to notice. Instead, he reached for a slice of roast beef and said, “We’ve heard about your famous little gatherings, Professor. I take it this is one of them?”
“Ah, straight to the point! I like that!” Slughorn chuckled, leaning back in his chair. “Yes, yes, you might say that. I do enjoy keeping in touch with promising students. You never know who might change the world one day.”
“You mean you never know who might have influential relatives,” Tracey murmured, earning a muffled cough from Susan, who was clearly trying not to laugh.
Slughorn either didn’t hear or chose to ignore her. “Why, it is remarkable how many of my former pupils have gone on to greatness! Ministers, Aurors, Quidditch stars, even the odd inventor or two. And now here you are! Harry Potter himself, sitting in my compartment!”
Harry gave a faint smile, reaching for his pumpkin juice. “It is just Harry, Professor.”
“Modest! So modest! But no, no... I insist. You’ve already faced You-Know-Who and come out standing.” Slughorn wagged a finger, as if scolding him for understatement. “And these fine friends of yours—truly exceptional company.”
Daphne’s lips twitched. “Well, we do try.”
Neville, who had been quietly buttering a roll, finally spoke. “Didn’t you teach my parents, Professor?”
“Indeed I did, Mr... Longbottom, isn’t it? Of course! I taught your parents. Excellent students. Such spirit.” Slughorn’s eyes gleamed. “And from what I hear, you’ve inherited plenty of that yourself.”
Neville shifted slightly in his seat but didn’t reply.
Across the table, Luna looked up from inspecting her plate. “Did you ever invite a Crumple-Horned Snorkack to one of these lunches, Professor?”
Slughorn blinked. “Ah... no, I can’t say that I have.”
“Pity,” Luna said simply, before returning to her meal.
Ginny pressed a hand to her mouth, hiding a grin.
Harry let the conversation flow around him for a moment, watching as Slughorn tried to charm each member of the group in turn. He wasn’t surprised. The man’s reputation for “collecting” students was well-earned.
Finally, Slughorn turned back to him. “Now, Harry, I must ask... what is it like? Being at the centre of it all. The papers say you...”
Harry cut him off with a lazy smile. “Professor, I’ve read those papers too. Half of them think I’ve got horns. The other half reckon I duel dragons for sport. I wouldn’t believe everything they print.”
Daphne hid a laugh behind her hand. Tracey didn’t bother hiding hers.
Slughorn gave a wheezy chuckle. “Oh, you are sharp, my boy. Sharp indeed! Well, never mind what the papers say. It is clear to me you are quite extraordinary... just like your parents.”
Harry’s smile didn’t shift, though his eyes sharpened slightly. “I am sure you have plenty of stories about them.”
“Stories?” Slughorn beamed. “More than I can count! But let’s save those for another time, eh? We’ve got a whole term ahead of us.”
Tracey leaned back in her chair. “So, Professor, how many students are you planning to ‘invite’ this year?”
“Ah, well, we shall see,” Slughorn said with a wink. “Depends on who catches my eye.”
Harry reached for another slice of bread. “Well, Professor, here is hoping the tea lives up to its reputation.”
Slughorn beamed as if Harry had just complimented his duelling skills. “Oh, it will, my boy. It always does.”
