I, Hogwarts Second Time Around.

Chapter 471 Conversation

Dumbledore and Slughorn stood up back to back, one tall and thin, the other short and stout, yet they waved their wands in unexpected unison.

The furniture pieces jumped back to their original positions one by one, the decorations returned to their original shapes in mid-air, the feathers went back into the cushions, and the damaged books were automatically repaired and neatly arranged on the bookshelf.

The oil lamp flew to the small table by the wall and was lit again. A bunch of broken silver picture frames flew to the other end of the room, shimmering, and landed on a writing desk, becoming bright and new again. All the broken, torn, and gaped places in the room were restored to their original state.

The stains on the wall were wiped clean on their own, as if they had never been stained with blood.

"By the way, what kind of blood is that?" Dumbledore asked, his voice drowning out the tinkling of the newly repaired grandfather clock.

"You mean the blood on the wall? It's dragon blood," the other person shouted in reply.

At that moment, the chandelier automatically jumped back onto the ceiling, making a deafening creaking and clanging sound.

As the piano finally rang out with its last note, the room finally quieted down.

"Yes, Albus, dragon blood," the wizard said with great interest, then shook his wand one last time. "You reminded me, this is the last bottle I've ever kept, and it's incredibly expensive on the market right now. But it might still be usable, so let's not waste it."

He walked heavily to the sideboard, picked up a small crystal bottle from the top, and examined the viscous liquid inside carefully in the light.

"Hmm, it's a little dirty." He put the small bottle back on the sideboard, then couldn't help but turn to look at Dumbledore with a flushed face.

"These children—"

"Oh! Let me introduce you." Dumbledore smiled and walked up to the young wizards. He first pointed to Owen, "This is Owen, Owen Sanchez. As you should know, he is now a famous healer."

"I've seen him in the newspaper, the young man from the Rozier family."

Dumbledore smiled noncommittally and pointed to the others, "Harry Potter, over there is Miss Ginny Weasley, an excellent witch. I dare say some adult wizards don't know as many spells as she does. Behind them are Mr. Ron Weasley and Miss Coyatri Stewart. You may know from some sources about some of their actions this year, but the Federation suppressed the information, you know, to protect them."

"I know, I know." The man stared at them with a gleaming smile, like a hungry wolf.

"Miss, I don't think I need to introduce you anymore."

"Oh! Of course—Miss Granger." The man stepped forward, suddenly grabbed Hermione's hand, and said, "A rising star of the wizarding world, a recipient of the Order of Merlin, First Class. My goodness, I can't believe there's such an outstanding young wizard."

"Children," Dumbledore said, pointing to the man facing the young wizards, "this is an old friend and colleague of mine, named Horace Slughorn."

Professor Slughorn shook hands with each of the young wizards before turning to Dumbledore with a shrewd expression.

"You think these things will convince me?"

"I think that's more than enough." This time, Dumbledore didn't beat around the bush with Professor Slughorn. He said bluntly, "Whatever my purpose, in these chaotic times, Hogwarts is the safest place. Unless you're willing to disguise yourself as a sofa when someone comes to visit."

"I need to think about it," Professor Slughorn said.

"Of course, at least we can have a drink," Dumbledore said, "for the past."

"Whatever." His words were somewhat curt.

Dumbledore simply smiled and led him to a chair.

This chair looks a lot like the one Slughorn just impersonated.

The young wizards became somewhat idle.

Hermione began, "Slughorn—um—sir, may we tour your house?"

"Clang, clang." Slughorn's expression was quite strange, with a hint of regret in his eyes. He was annoyed by Hermione's earlier address to him—"Sir"—or "Professor" if that was the correct way to address him.

Oh, Merlin!

That girl will definitely become the best student he has ever had in his life.

Thinking about it, Slughorn couldn't help but look at Dumbledore, who was grinning from ear to ear.

A hint of resentment crept into his eyes.

Irving actually understands very well the inner turmoil Slughorn is going through right now.

This is a sophisticated and self-serving person.

He did not want to get involved with either Dumbledore or Voldemort.

If it weren't for what happened in America, he might have joined Hogwarts without hesitation.

On the surface, Dumbledore seems to have a higher chance of winning.

But the fall of America had a huge impact on an old wizard like him who had access to inside information.

Voldemort's power far exceeded his imagination.

Not to mention that the Imposters and Purgers are now entangled with the Death Eaters, and have even joined forces with them.

This means that even in Hogwarts, there could be imposters.

It's not safe there at all.

If Dolores Umbridge can bring the Imposter into Hogwarts this year, it's hard to say that others won't be able to as well.

If any of the little wizards are replaced during summer vacation, who will notice?

In conclusion, it is perfectly normal for Mr. Slughorn to hesitate.

Hogwarts is very safe, but on the other hand, it is also the most dangerous place.

It's attracting too much firepower.

It's safer to hide anywhere than to stay at Hogwarts.

"Professor Dumbledore wants Mr. Slughorn to become our Defense Against the Dark Arts professor."

Harry, who was touring the other rooms, asked Owen with a puzzled look, "He looks too old."

Yes, Slughorn is about the same age as Dumbledore. It wouldn't matter if the professor for other courses was older, but Defense Against the Dark Arts is a practical course. It's perfectly reasonable for Harry to worry that Slughorn might break his back in class.

"I guess he's here to teach us Potions," Hermione said from the side. "The book 'Hogwarts: A History' says that Professor Slughorn was a Potions professor and the Head of Slytherin House."

After he retired, he gave his position to his most outstanding student.

"Snape?" Harry's eyes widened. "Oh my god! He's wanted the Defense Against the Dark Arts professorship for so long, he's applied every year! Is he finally going to get it this year?"

"Obviously," Irving said.

"No—" Harry wailed, "My favorite subject, now—is gone."

"On the bright side, maybe your favorite course this year will become Potions?" Owen said, suppressing a laugh.

"How could that be?"

"What's impossible? Mr. Slughorn is quite fond of you famous young wizards," Owen explained with a smile. "Everyone has their own preferences, and our Professor Slughorn's favorite thing is to take famous young wizards under his wing. Why do you think Headmaster Dumbledore would want to take us under his wing?"

"So that's how it is?" Harry, along with the other young wizards, all showed expressions of understanding.

Only Koyatl didn't care at all.

This has happened to her before.

When she was in Evamoni, almost all the professors treated her the same way.

The young wizards were chatting when Professor Slughorn walked in from outside.

He looked at Irving with a smile on his face.

"I was just chatting with Dumbledore outside, and I heard that you were the one who identified the 'Impersonator' among the young wizards at Hogwarts?"

"Oh—that's because they're too stupid," Owen said casually. "Umbridge was too hasty. If that guy continues to hide for a while, my plan might not work."

"The Patronus Charm?" said Mr. Slughorn. "I've heard that every young wizard at Hogwarts knows it now?"

"Not everyone knows it," Owen said. "Most wizards in fourth grade and above do."

"Really?" Slughorn suddenly feigned a touch of melancholy. "Times have really changed!"

During the years he was away from Hogwarts, the school produced a wealth of talented people, which he found as unbearable as if goblins had thrown Galleons into the Thames.

In one corner of the room, there was a bookshelf with many photos on it.

It's several stories high.

During his conversation with Slughorn, Harry saw his mother in a photograph on the bookshelf.

"You look a lot like your father," Slughorn said slowly as he walked over and stopped beside Harry.

"Yes, that's what other people say," Harry said.

"It's just the eyes that don't look like yours..."

"Like my mother, yes." He'd heard that countless times and was getting tired of it.

"Hmph, yes, of course, as a teacher one shouldn't show favoritism to students, but I do. Your mother." Slughorn, seeing Harry's questioning look, added, "Lily Evans, one of the brightest students I've ever taught, lively, lovely, very talented, a charming girl."

I often tell her that she should be in my college, but I usually get very rude replies from her.

"You're all Gryffindor students, aren't you?" he then said.

"Owen and Coyatt are not, they are Hufflepuff students," Harry said.

"Oh! That's a bit surprising. I always thought that the little wizard who came up with a way to deal with the Imposter was a Ravenclaw student."

"Hehe." Owen grinned and chuckled.

"Oh—look at this photo."

As he spoke, Slughorn took a picture frame from the shelf.

The picture frame contains four young wizards, who look quite small, about the same size as the young wizards standing beside them now.

Harry recognized the four of them at a glance.

From left to right: Snape, his mother Lily and father James, and finally Sirius Black.

His father was holding up a strangely shaped trophy, which looked a bit like a crucible.

The mother was holding a child.

Harry rubbed his head and pointed at the photo, saying, "They even took a picture together? And is that me, the child my mom is holding?"

"Haha." Slughorn laughed. "That wasn't you. Your mother was only sixteen back then."

"Oh—" Harry said, feeling a little embarrassed.

"This photo was taken during the World Potions Masters Tournament in New Zealand. We weren't very well prepared at the time, and some other things happened. Hogwarts ended up only getting fourth place."

As he spoke, Slughorn's face showed regret. "The potion formula we chose was too conservative, and it was difficult for the judges to give it a high score. In fact, the finished products of the top few all had some problems to some extent, but their formulas were bolder and more unique. In short, it's a pity."

As for the child in Lily's arms

Slughorn stopped speaking; the child's fate was too tragic for him to tell these young wizards.

So he simply said, "Her mother passed away unexpectedly, and she was eventually adopted by Professor Xia Ti, a teacher at the Imperial Academy in Chang'an."

I've heard she's grown into a powerful witch, and the youngest professor in the history of the Imperial Academy.

"Zhang Xiaolin?" Owen interjected from the side.

After all, she could only be the youngest professor in the history of the Imperial Academy.

"Oh? You know them?" Slughorn's eyes lit up. "Geniuses always seem to click. I'm not surprised at all."

"We met, it was a chance encounter," Irving said simply.

While Harry continued to stare blankly at the photos, everyone else also focused their attention on the shelf displaying numerous photos of celebrities.

"These are all my former students, all autographed photos. I take them with me wherever I go. You'll see Barnabas Goughfy, the editor of the Daily Prophet, oh, now the editor of the Hogwarts Gazette. He's always very interested in hearing my opinions on current affairs."

And there's Ambrose Froome of Bee Duke Candy Store, who gives me a gift basket every year on my birthday because I introduced him to Cicero Hedges, which led to his first job and beyond.

If you crane your neck, you'll see it's Gwenorg Jones, captain of the Holyhead Harpy. People often wonder why I'm so close to the Harpy players. I can get free tickets whenever I want, and...”

At this point, he became very excited and wanted to introduce everyone in the photo to them.

Looking at these wizards who hold important positions or are very well-known, and listening to Slughorn recount their relationship with him, one can clearly feel the influence of this old wizard. He is like a spider, weaving an invisible web.

Moreover, Slughorn seems quite happy to flaunt these relationships.

This felt very familiar to Irving.

Because Miss Granger, who was beside him, was doing the same thing, and she had even extended her reach overseas.

He nudged Hermione on the shoulder, looked at her, and smiled.

The little witch naturally understood what Owen was thinking.

But she couldn't refute it; regardless of the goals, DA's development did indeed resemble Slughorn's network of connections in terms of its methods.

"Hmm?" She turned her head, thinking about how to refute, but unexpectedly saw an acquaintance in a photo.

"Sir, is this also your student?"

Owen looked in the direction Hermione was pointing and found a very special photo in a very secluded corner.

That's not a magic photo, it's just a regular Muggle photo.

The figures in the picture do not move.

But the person in the painting surprised Irving greatly.

"Ah—" Slughorn looked thoughtful, and after a while it seemed as if he remembered something, "I remember it was summer vacation—Regrus—oh—that is, Sirius's younger brother, he came to visit me with some of his friends and asked me some questions about potions."

"They are all very talented wizards, and the questions they asked were quite novel and tricky. To be honest, although I have been on the path of potions for hundreds of years, not all of their questions have answers."

"Do you remember their names?" Hermione then asked.

“Of course,” Slughorn said, “because I wrote their names on the back of the photos.”

After saying that, he picked up the photo frame and turned it over.

"Well—from left to right, they are Roy Sylph, Gabriel Rozier, Regulus Black, McCowan Hunter, and Chronos Stewart."

"Hey, I knew it, Owen, that's your mom." Hermione looked at Owen with a surprised expression.

The other young wizards were also drawn to Hermione's words.

Everyone looked at the photo.

Hermione, Harry, and Ron recognized three of them: Roy, Owen's mother Gabriel, and Sirius's brother Regulus.

As for the other two, they didn't recognize them.

"They're probably all members of the Saints," Irwin said, his gaze lingering on his mother's appearance.

Unfortunately, he no longer bears any resemblance to this woman.

Except for that damn silver hair.

"Sir, are they only looking for you because of the potion?" Owen looked up at Slughorn.

"Of course—what else could it be?" Slughorn suddenly became somewhat flustered.

He added, "These are all old stories. They came to me with those questions decades ago, and I've completely forgotten about them now."

"You just said their questions were tricky," Koyatl suddenly said, her crimson eyes scrutinizing her.

The atmosphere suddenly became silent and oppressive.

"Regulus, do you know how he died?" Owen looked at him, his eyes somewhat aggressive. "I might as well tell you, he probably starved to death. He was trapped in a tower, unable to get out or move forward."

Why was he there? Did my mother give him something?

I can assure you they are absolutely not familiar with each other; they may have only met once or twice. Perhaps it was after meeting you that everything that happened occurred.

"The back of the photo says, 'May 1979.'"

"And Regulus also died in the same year."

“Chronos Stewart. I’ve heard that name before,” Koyatl continued. “He was one of the alchemical creations of the Purifiers and the goblins, one of their failures. He escaped from prison, which is why the goblins kept such a close watch on me afterward. Chronos wouldn’t have come to England without a purpose, because the goblin brotherhood had eyes and ears all over the country back then. You must have something very important here, otherwise—”

(End of this chapter)