Chapter 267: Compartment C

The weather beyond the train windows was as patchy as it had been all summer; the train passed through stretches of the chilling mist, then out into weak, clear sunlight. It was during one of the clear spells, when the sun was visible almost directly overhead, that Colin, Ron and Hermione entered the compartment at last.

"Wish the lunch trolley would hurry up, I'm starving," said Ron longingly, slumping into the seat beside Harry and rubbing his stomach. "Hi, Neville."

"Where's Ginny?" Chris asked Colin.

"She stopped to chat with Dean," said Colin. "She will be here in a bit, I think."

Chris nodded and looked out the window. She hadn't gone to looking for Jason, she was angry. Jason hadn't replied to her letters all summer. First Chris thought if something bad had happened to him but then just a week ago a letter came from Jason saying, he was a little busy. That's all.

"Chris, guess who are Hufflepuff Prefects?" said Colin grinning.

"Who?" Chris looked back at him.

"Irena and Melvin," said Colin.

"Great," smiled Chris. Irena and Melvin both were their friends from Hufflepuff, they were also in DA last year. "And Ravenclaw?"

"Remember Jane Chambers? She was in DA too. She and a boy named Adrian Rivers are Ravenclaw Prefect."

The compartment door slid open again and a breathless third-year girl stepped inside.

"I'm supposed to deliver these to Neville Longbottom, Harry P-Potter and Chris-ti-tina Nor-ton," she faltered, as her eyes met Harry's and she turned scarlet. She was holding out three scrolls of parchment tied with violet ribbon. Perplexed, Chris, Harry and Neville took the scroll addressed to each of them and the girl stumbled back out of the compartment.

"What is it?" Ron demanded.

Chris opened her parchment and read:

Miss Norton,

I would be delighted if you would join me for a bite of lunch in compartment C.

Sincerely,

Professor H.E.F. Slughorn

"An invitation," said Harry.

"Who's Professor Slughorn?" asked Neville, scanning his letter.

"New teacher," said Harry. "Well, I suppose we'll have to go, won't we?"

"But what does he want me for?" asked Neville nervously, as though he was expecting detention.

"The actual question is why he wants to meet me?" said Chris bewildered.

"No idea," Harry shrugged. "Let's go."

People again were staring at them intensely. Every now and then, students would hurtle out of their compartments to get a better look. When they reached compartment C, they saw at once that they were not Slughorn's only invitees, although judging by the enthusiasm of Slughorn's welcome, Harry was the most warmly anticipated.

"Harry, m'boy!"

Professor Slughorn was an enormously fat, bald, old man with a silvery moustache. He was wearing a velvety waistcoat.

"Good to see you, good to see you, Harry! And you must be Mr Longbottom! And of course Miss Norton."

Chris looking surprised and Neville looking scared, nodded. At a gesture from Slughorn, they sat down on the three remaining sits, which were nearest the door. Chris glanced around at their fellow guests. There were a sixth year Slytherin boy, two seventh-year boys and, squashed in the corner beside Slughorn and looking as though she was not entirely sure how she had got there, Ginny. Chris caught Ginny's eye and raised her eyebrows in question. Ginny shrugged.

"Now, do you know everyone?" Slughorn asked Chris, Harry and Neville. "Blaise Zabini is in your year Harry, of course —"

Blaise Zabini was a tall black boy with high cheekbones and long, slanting eyes, whom Chris had noticed a few times because he had tried to impress Ginny a lot, last year.

"This is Cormac McLaggen, perhaps you've come across each other — ? No?"

McLaggen, a large, wiry-haired youth, raised a hand, eyes fixed at Chris. Harry and Neville nodded at him while Chris quickly looked away.

"— and this is Marcus Belby, I don't know whether — ?"

Belby, who was thin and nervous-looking, gave a strained smile.

"— and this charming young lady tells me she knows you three!" Slughorn finished.

Ginny grimaced and Chris realized she wasn't wearing her talisman or she had told Chris about her situation.

"Well now, this is most pleasant," said Slughorn cozily. "A chance to get to know you all a little better. Here, take a napkin. I've packed my own lunch; the trolley, as I remember it, is heavy on licorice wands, and a poor old man's digestive system isn't quite up to such things. . . . Pheasant, Belby?"

Belby started and accepted what looked like half a cold pheasant.

"I was just telling young Marcus here that I had the pleasure of teaching his Uncle Damocles," Slughorn said, now passing around a basket of rolls. "Outstanding wizard, outstanding, and his Order of Merlin most well-deserved. Do you see much of your uncle, Marcus?"

Unfortunately, Belby had just taken a large mouthful of pheasant; in his haste to answer Slughorn he swallowed too fast, turned purple, and began to choke.

"Anapneo," said Slughorn calmly, pointing his wand at Belby, whose airway seemed to clear at once.

"Not . . . not much of him, no," gasped Belby, his eyes streaming.

"Well, of course, I daresay he's busy," said Slughorn, looking questioningly at Belby. "I doubt he invented the Wolfsbane Potion without considerable hard work!"

"I suppose . . ." said Belby, who seemed afraid to take another bite of pheasant until he was sure that Slughorn had finished with him. "Er . . . he and my dad don't get on very well, you see, so I don't really know much about . . ."

His voice trailed away as Slughorn gave him a cold smile and turned to McLaggen instead.

"Now, you, Cormac," said Slughorn, "I happen to know you see a lot of your Uncle Tiberius, because he has a rather splendid picture of the two of you hunting nogtails in, I think, Norfolk?"

"Oh, yeah, that was fun, that was," said McLaggen. "We went with Bertie Higgs and Rufus Scrimgeour — this was before he became Minister, obviously —"

Cormac McLaggen's eyes again flickered towards Chris and again Chris hastily looked away, feeling uncomfortable. She turned to Harry, who was frowning more and more as the conversation progressed. It was as Harry had described, Slughorn liked to collect famous students. Everyone here seemed to have been invited because they were connected to somebody well-known or influential — everyone except Chris and Ginny. Zabini, who was interrogated after McLaggen, turned out to have a famously beautiful witch for a mother (from what Chris could make out, she had been married seven times, each of her husbands dying mysteriously and leaving her mounds of gold). It was Neville's turn next: This was a very uncomfortable ten minutes, for Neville's parents, well-known Aurors, had been tortured into insanity by Bellatrix Lestrange and a couple of Death Eater cronies. At the end of Neville's interview, Chris had the impression that Slughorn was reserving judgment on Neville, yet to see whether he had any of his parents' flair.

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To be continued. . .