Magical Studies at Hogwarts...

Chapter 269 Fatal Temptation

Harry stared in disbelief as the bald, fat old man staggered to his feet from the sofa, his bulky sofa cover transforming in the blink of an eye into a very smart suit that made him look quite sophisticated.

However, the act of rubbing his stomach made his demeanor look somewhat comical.

"How did you figure that out?" he asked, rubbing his stomach.

"The Dark Mark, my dear Horace." Dumbledore squinted and smiled. "If they were truly Death Eaters, they would have left the Dark Mark on the rooftop."

"Ah, I see. I completely forgot..." he muttered. "That explains why it felt like something was missing, but there's no time to waste."

He drew his wand, and Dumbledore, seeing this, also drew his wand and asked, "Do you need any help?"

"Of course, that would be the best."

The two stood back to back, their wands flashing in unison, instantly transforming the chaotic scene in the room. As if a rewind button had been pressed, the furniture flew back to its original positions. Scattered glass, feathers, clock faces and pendulums, and broken books all returned to their original, neat places.

In just a short while, the living room became incredibly clean, and even the horrific bloodstains on the wall were wiped clean.

"That's much better." Dumbledore nodded. "By the way, what kind of blood was that?"

"Dragon's Blood," Horace replied. "This is my last vial. It's very difficult to obtain under the current circumstances, of course..."

As he spoke, he sighed, his gaze wandering around the room. It was then that he noticed Harry and Hermione, especially the lightning bolt scar on Harry's forehead, which greatly surprised him.

"Hey!" He pointed at Harry, but turned his head to look at Dumbledore beside him, his tone somewhat unfriendly.

"You think you can convince me with that?"

"Albus, I'm telling you, it's impossible!"

Dumbledore wasn't annoyed; he still had a smile on his face and said, "I forgot, I haven't introduced you yet."

"This is Harry Potter, and Hermione Granger... Harry, Hermione, and this is my old friend and colleague, Horace Slughorn."

"Impossible! Impossible! Albus, impossible!" Horace's eyes widened as he muttered to himself, turning his back to Harry and Hermione.

Seeing this, Dumbledore chuckled and patted him on the shoulder, saying, "I suppose, anyway, we can at least have a drink together... for the past?"

Hobbes hesitated for a moment, then turned around and nodded.

"Okay, but just one drink!"

Dumbledore laughed heartily, waving his wand, and the wine jug and glasses that had appeared at the Dursleys' house earlier landed back on the newly repaired coffee table in the living room.

"This is Lady Rosmerta's mead; I remember it was your favorite!"

They sat down around the coffee table. Horace picked up his mead and took a sip, but kept his head turned away, refusing to look at Dumbledore. Seeing Horace drink the mead, Dumbledore mischievously winked at Harry and Hermione.

He coughed before asking, "Horace, how are you feeling? Are you alright?"

"Not good." Horace took another sip of mead. "Asthma, rheumatism, and my legs aren't as strong as they used to be. That's normal, though; you get old and useless."

"Really? I didn't realize that," Dumbledore said. "You've prepared such a welcoming ceremony for us in such a short time; that's quite skillful."

"Let me guess... three minutes?"

"Two and a half minutes!" Horace whirled around, his voice a mixture of smugness and annoyance. "I was taking a shower and didn't hear the intrusion charm alarm, otherwise you wouldn't have noticed anything amiss!"

"However... I'm old now, a useless old man, and a useless old man deserves a peaceful retirement."

"You're not even as old as me, Horace," Dumbledore advised.

"Yes, so you should also consider retiring, Albus." Horace placed the cup on the coffee table, the jug quickly refilled it, and the cup obediently jumped into his hand.

He didn't look at the wine glass, but instead glanced sideways at Dumbledore's exposed charred hand, and said meaningfully, "It's clear that you're not as sharp as you used to be."

"That's right," Dumbledore replied calmly, revealing both his hands. His right hand was charred, while his left hand was intact, except for a rough-looking ring that appeared to be made of gold, with a black, cracked stone set in it.

Horace's attention unconsciously fell on the ring, and he frowned slightly, but then he turned his head away and just snorted coldly.

Dumbledore chuckled, seemingly ignoring Horace's reaction, and asked, "Horace, are these security measures you've implemented to defend against the Death Eaters, or for our sake?"

"What do the Death Eaters want with an old body like mine?" he retorted.

"Torture, murder, intrigue—I imagine your intelligence is very important to them," Dumbledore said, his eyes suddenly sharpening. "Can you honestly say they never tried to recruit you?"

"Bang!"

Horace slammed his cup down on the coffee table, glared fiercely at Dumbledore for a long time, and then replied in a low voice, "I didn't give them a chance!"

"For the past year, I have been hiding my whereabouts and never stayed in one place for more than a week."

"Yes, they've contacted me, more than once. In fact, I almost got caught just a few days ago!" A hint of fear involuntarily appeared on his face. "A young man, more terrifying than ever before, even more..."

"More terrifying than Tom, isn't it?" Dumbledore whispered back. "Young and powerful, powerful enough to inspire despair?"

"Yes..." Horace shuddered as the events of the past few days flashed through his mind.

Seeing this, Dumbledore laughed and said, "For an old man who longs for a peaceful life, this kind of life is terrible! But think about it, if you went back to Hogwarts..."

"Give me a break, Albus!" Horace interrupted Dumbledore abruptly. "Yes, I am indeed in hiding right now, but I've heard some rumors about Umbridge—that's how you treat a professor!"

"Umbridge had only herself to blame; she swaggered into the Forbidden Forest and yelled 'filthy bastard' at a group of angry centaurs."

"You certainly wouldn't do that, would you, Horace..."

"She actually did that? What a fool! I would never..." Horace's expression was somewhat unnatural, and his voice grew softer and softer.

At that moment, Harry, who had been quiet all along, suddenly burst out laughing, which immediately caught Horace's attention. Seeing this, Harry quickly put down his glass and explained, "Sorry, it's just... I don't like her either, none of us like her."

"Alright, alright..." Horace muttered under his breath, his gaze inadvertently sweeping over Hermione. He hadn't noticed at first, but then he suddenly remembered the news he'd received from one of his students who worked at the Ministry of Magic a while back, and he found himself glancing at Hermione a couple more times.

"Ahem..." He coughed twice, picked up his glass and took a sip of mead, then casually asked Dumbledore beside him, "This is... the Hermione Granger you mentioned earlier?"

"Twelve O's?"

Dumbledore nodded, his smile growing even brighter.

(End of this chapter)