Chapter 112: Chapter - 115 : New Beginnings part - 2
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"Merlin," Blaise gasped, when the three exhausted teens finally reached compartment C. "I'm sorry Harry, but if this is what happens whenever I accompany you to public places, we're going to have to end our friendship."
Harry huffed a tired laugh, but didn't deign to respond as at that moment, they slipped into Slughorn's compartment.
"Harry, m'boy!" Slughorn said jovially, jumping up upon his entrance. "Good to see you, good to see you! And you must be Mr. Longbottom and Mr. Zabini! I was not aware that you knew each other."
"Yes, sir," Harry forced an almost believable smile. "We're quite close."
"Excellent," Slughorn gestured to the three seats closest to the door. "Please, sit. Now, do you know everyone?" When it was confirmed that they were not familiar with each other, Slughorn spent the next few minutes introducing everyone. The two others that had been invited were seventh years, one was a large, fit Gryffindor named Cormac McLaggen, and the other was Marcus Belby, a thin, nervous looking Ravenclaw.
"Now that that's done with, let's have lunch. I've packed my own as I'm afraid most of the wares sold on the usual trolley wouldn't be good for this old man's digestive system."
Over his light meal of cold pheasant and sliced cheese, Harry watched as Slughorn, one by one, engaged each of the compartments occupants in conversation, revealing the reason behind their presence as he did. Marcus had been invited because his uncle, Damocles Belby, was a renowned Potion's Master who had apparently created the Wolfsbane Potion, but when it was discovered that Belby wasn't all that close with his uncle due to strife between him and Marcus' father, Slughorn seemed to lose all interest in him. After Belby was Cormac, who Slughorn had much more luck on, the older teen was the nephew of an influential Ministry employee who was good friends with the newly appointed Minister of Magic, Rufus Scrimgeour. Next to be questioned was Blaise, who was forced to spend several long minutes discussing his relationship with his mother, the infamous Black Widow, then went Neville, who was incredibly uncomfortable talking about his parents, who had been confined to St. Mungo's after being tortured into insanity by Bellatrix Lestrange and her husband. Harry heard him breathe a soft sigh of relief when Slughorn turned his attention off of Neville and onto him.
"Harry Potter! Where to begin? I feel I barely scratched the surface when we met over the summer!" He contemplated Harry for a moment as though he was a particularly large and succulent piece of pheasant, then said, "'The Chosen One,' they're calling you now!"
Harry wisely didn't comment on his newest title, choosing to simply smile neutrally at Slughorn and take another bite of his pheasant.
"Of course, there have been rumors for years," Slughorn continued. "I remember when… well after that terrible night with and Lily and James…and you survived! And the word was that you must have powers beyond the ordinary."
Blaise gave a tiny little cough of amusement, Harry gave him a swift kick under the table and shot him a glare that was ruined by the small smile he was struggling to hide.
"Such rumors this summers," Slughorn obviously hadn't noticed the small exchange between the two Slytherins. "Of course, one doesn't know what to believe, the Prophet has been known to print inaccuracies, make mistakes, but there seems little doubt, given the number of witnesses, that there was quite a disturbance at the Ministry and that you were there in the thick of it all!"
"Yes, well not exactly by choice," Harry shrugged.
Slughorn nodded solemnly. "Yes, I heard of that, you were dragged there against your will by the Auror Gibbon. Bad business that was. But why did he take you to the Ministry of all places? What was his purpose?"
"Your guess is as good as mine, sir. He trapped me in the Department of Mysteries, but I was rescued before he could carry out whatever he had planned."
"Do you think it perhaps has something to do with this fabled prophecy?" Slughorn leaned forward as far as he could with his large belly. "It's well known that the Hall of Prophecies is located somewhere in the Department of Mysteries."
"That could be the reason, but I never heard anything about a prophecy, so I'm afraid that it's all speculation."
"Yes… well… it is true that the Prophet often exaggerates, of course…" Slughorn said, sounding a little disappointed. "I remember dear Gwenog telling me (Gwenog Jones, I mean, of course, Captain of the Holyhead Harpies)…"
Slughorn launched into a long winded tale that started off about Gwenog Jones but slowly evolved into recollection of every successful person he'd ever taught. It was only when the train hit one of the rare patches of sunlight that Slughorn noticed the late hour and sent them back to their compartments.
They only had just enough time to change into their robes before the train pulled up to the Hogsmeade station and they had to disembark.
"So did you make any 'important connections?'" Ron asked once they'd settled down in one of the thestral drawn carriages.
"Not yet," Neville laughed. "We mostly spent the lunch being regaled with tales of Slughorn's famous former students."
"The pheasant was good though."
"I'll bet," Ron sighed wistfully. "Merlin, I'm starving."
"You just ate three packs of Cauldron Cakes, half of a box of Bertie Botts, and at least a dozen Chocolate Frogs!" Hermione exclaimed. "How in the world are you still hungry?"
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Loving the story so far? There's a whole world of magic and mystery waiting for you with over 85+ chapters still to come! By supporting my Patreon.
You not only get early access to new chapters but also exclusive content, behind-the-scenes insights, and special perks just for fans like you.
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(P).(A).(T).(R).(E).(O).(N)
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