Hogwarts Card Drawer

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Chronos watched from upstairs, and he saw Harry following Dumbledore so obediently.

And after a brief greeting with Dumbledore, Horace finally noticed Harry.

"Aha," he said, his large round eyes darting across Harry's forehead and the lightning-shaped scar on it. "Aha!"

"This," Dumbledore stepped forward and introduced, "is Harry Potter. Harry, this is an old friend and colleague of mine, Slughorn."

Slughorn turned to Dumbledore with a sly look on his face. "You think that will convince me, don't you? My answer is: no way."

He pushed past Harry, his face turned firmly to the side, with a look of refusal to accept the temptation.

"I suppose we could at least have another drink?" asked Dumbledore. "For the sake of the old days?"

Slughorn hesitated.

"Okay, just have a drink." He said reluctantly.

Dumbledore smiled at Harry, and led him to sit in the chair beside the newly lit fireplace and oil lamp, which was exactly the same as the one Slughorn had just transformed into.

Harry felt intuitively that Dumbledore, for some reason, wanted him to be as obvious as possible. The result, of course, was that when Slughorn finished his work with his bottles and turned to face the room, his eyes fell on Harry.

"Well," he said, looking away quickly as if afraid of hurting his own eyes. "Please—" He handed a glass of wine to Dumbledore who had already sat down, pushed the other glass in front of Harry, and then sank into the cushions of the newly restored sofa without saying a word sullenly Say. His legs are so short that his feet don't even touch the floor.

"I say, are you in good health, Slughorn?" asked Dumbledore.

"So-so," Slughorn replied promptly. "Chest pain. Asthma. And rheumatism. The bones of the body are not as flexible as before. This is nothing to make a fuss about. When people are old, they will feel tired when they move around."

"But judging from the welcome ceremony you prepared for us just now, your movements are still very quick," said Dumbledore. "The play was done in three minutes?"

Slughorn replied angrily and a little proudly: "Two minutes. I was taking a shower just now, so I didn't pay attention to the alarm of the intrusion spell." He seemed to wake up all of a sudden, and said seriously: "But after all, I am I am old. An old man who is exhausted physically and mentally should have the right to a quiet life and a good food and clothing?"

"You're not as old as I am, Slughorn," said Dumbledore.

"Well, I think you should think about retirement yourself," said Slughorn sharply. His small pale gooseberry eyes caught Dumbledore's wounded right hand. "Your reflexes are starting to dull too, old friend."

"You're right," said Dumbledore quietly, shaking his sleeves to hide the blackened fingertips; Harry felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end at the sight. . "It's true that I don't want to be as flexible as I used to be. But on the other hand..."

He shrugged his shoulders and stretched out his hands, which seemed to mean that old age and weakness will have corresponding compensations. Chronos noticed that there was no dark hand in Dumbledore.

"It's tiring for an old man like you, running around looking for a quiet retirement life. If you can go back to Hogwarts—" said Dumbledore.

"If you mean my life would be more comfortable in that goddamn school, save yourselves! I might as well hide and hide like I am now, and since Professor Dolores Umbridge left I've heard quite a few interesting rumors since that damn place! If that's how you treat teachers—"

"Professor Ambridge had a little conflict with our centaur tribe,

said Dumbledore. "I think you, Slughorn, should imagine breaking into the Forbidden Forest and unceremoniously accusing the angry centaurs of being 'filthy half-breeds'. what? "

"Did she do that, really?" said Slughorn. "The stupid woman. Never looked her in the eye."

Harry let out a laugh, and both Dumbledore and Slughorn turned to look at him.

"Sorry," said Harry hastily, "I mean - I don't like her too much either."

Dumbledore stood up suddenly.

"Are you leaving now?" Slughorn asked immediately, with a look of relief on his face.

"Oh no, I was wondering if I could use your bathroom," said Dumbledore.

"Oh," said Slughorn, looking clearly disappointed. "The second door from the left in the foyer"

Dumbledore strode out of the room. As soon as the door closed behind him, the room fell silent again. After a moment, Slughorn got to his feet but didn't seem to know what to do. He glanced furtively at Harry, walked around the room and sat down to keep warm with his back to the fire.

Dumbledore stood up suddenly.

"Are you leaving now?" Slughorn asked immediately, with a look of relief on his face.

"Oh no, I was wondering if I could use your bathroom," said Dumbledore.

"Oh," said Slughorn, looking clearly disappointed. "The second door from the left in the foyer"

Dumbledore strode out of the room. As soon as the door closed behind him, the room fell silent again. After a moment, Slughorn got to his feet but didn't seem to know what to do. He glanced furtively at Harry, walked around the room and sat down to keep warm with his back to the fire.

"Don't think I don't know why he brought you here." He said suddenly.

Harry didn't look in Slughorn's direction. Slughorn's watery eyes glanced at the scar on Harry's head again, and this time he began to study his face carefully.

"You look a lot like your father."

"Yeah, that's what everyone says," said Harry.

"Except for your eyes. You have—"

"My mother's eyes, yes." He was getting a little tired of being always saying that about Harry every time they saw him.

"Hmm. Of course, maybe your idol doesn't include your teacher, but your mother is my favorite student." Seeing Harry's puzzled look, Slughorn added, "Lily Ewan S. That's literally one of the brightest students I've ever had. Bright and vivacious, you know. Very nice girl. I used to always say to her: You should be on my side of the house. Always getting bumped back every time."

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