Harry Potter and the Secret Treasures

“For the past…” Slughorn said softly.

Those big, round eyes looked at Ivan, Harry, Hermione, and the scar on Harry's forehead.

“Ho, the past is always worth remembering.” He closed his eyes and took three deep breaths, "Abbs, who are these three? ”

“Harry Potter, Ivan Mason, Hermione Granger, you should have heard their names.” Dumbledore introduced, pointing to Slughorn, and said, "Children, this is an old friend and colleague of mine, Horace Slughorn. ”

“Evan Mason, Harry Potter?” Slughorn muttered, "Yeah, I've heard that. ”

“Good evening, Professor!” Evan said, bowing slightly to Slughorn.

“Don't shout, son, I'm not a professor. I haven't taught for years.” Slughorn immediately said that he seemed frightened.

He wasn't looking at Ivan and they turned to Dumbledore, with a brilliant look on his face.

“I know what you want to do, Abbs. You think that'll convince me, don't you? I'm telling you, the answer is no! ”

He said that his attitude was resolutely turning his face aside, as if resisting any temptation.

“But we can have at least one drink. You're not gonna refuse this, are you?” Dumbledore said.

Slughorn hesitated to hear that.

And then he said, “Well, have a drink. ”

Dumbledore smiled at them as he turned around and played with the bottles and cups.

He waved the wand into three chairs, much like the one Slughorn had just impersonated, indicating that the three of them sat down.

Next to the chair is a freshly lit stove fire and a bright oil lamp, with Ivan sitting in the middle and Harry on the other side of the oil lamp.

Dumbledore deliberately placed them in a prominent position, facing Slughorn.

Indeed, when he turned around, he could see the three of them at first sight.

“Humph!” He hurriedly looked away as if he was afraid that his eyes would get hurt.

“Here!” he handed Dumbledore, who had already sat down, and pushed the tray towards Ivan in front of them.

Then he sat in a pile of cushions on the sofa that had just been repaired and fell silent with his face on it.

“How's it going, Horace? How's your bone?” Dumbledore asked.

“Not so good.” Slughorn shook his head and immediately said, "I can't breathe, I have asthma, I have rheumatism, my legs and feet aren't as easy as they used to be, I'm suffering. Alas, that was unexpected. Old, useless. ”

“However, you have prepared such a welcome scene in such a short period of time, and it must be agile enough for most wizards to fail to do so.” Dumbledore said, "I don't suppose you have more than three minutes to get the alarm, do you? ”

“Two minutes, I was in the shower, drinking a glass of wine, must have been a little drunk, didn't hear the alarm.” Slughorn was half angry and half proud to say, and then he seemed to calm down again, "but the truth is, I'm undeniably an old man, Abbess, a tired old man, entitled to a quiet life and some material enjoyment, as I told you before. ”

He undoubtedly lacks material enjoyment, even drinking specially made wines.

There is also the setting of the room, crowded and messy, but no one will say it is uncomfortable.

In addition to what originally belonged to Muggle owners, there are also many obviously Slughorn's, such as the exquisite wine set, unique soft chairs, footstools, books, and a box of chocolate and a pile of cushions for drum bags.

If they didn't know who lived here, they would have guessed that it was a picky lady.

Ivan knew Slughorn was a brilliant wizard with all the qualities of Slytherin and enjoyed it.

At the very least, enjoy it better than any wizard he knows.

“You're not my age, Horace.” Dumbledore said.

“Perhaps you should consider retiring yourself. I've heard a lot of chaos lately.” Slughorn's blunt, pale green eyes stared at Dumbledore's hands full of spells, "and you can see you're not as agile as you used to be. ”

“You're right.” Dumbledore said calmly, shaking his sleeve up.

There, Ivan saw that his arms were also covered with complex dark green spells.

They intertwine with each other and extend up along their arms.

what is this

Evan had never seen a spell like this, he thought it was magic rune, and now it doesn't look like it.

It seems to be a curse, not mere spell damage caused by accident.

“I'm obviously slower than ever.” Dumbledore said, "Dangerous magic experiments and adventures are no longer suitable for me, but equally undeniably, adventures have been rewarding and we are making more progress than we thought, on the other hand..."

He shrugged his shoulders, spreading his hands apart and seemed to want to say that old age also had its advantages.

But Slughorn was definitely not listening to Dumbledore, and his eyes fell on Gunter's ring.

He frowned slightly and had several wrinkles on his wide brain door.

Ivan remembers Riddle, 15, telling him and Dumbledore that Slughorn had seen such a ring.

Now the ring is exactly the same as before, except that the resurrection stone is kept here with him.

Not to mention the soul in the ring. Whatever!

Fifteen-year-old Riddle, Slughorn's most proud doorman, must be watching him now.

But if he knew about it, or Dumbledore let Riddle go, he'd be scared to run away.

The spells eventually all came together on the ring, or they were spreading out there.

Ivan can't help thinking, what exactly does Dumbledore want? Magic involving Riddle's soul?

“So, Horace, all these security measures against intruders, are they for the Death Eaters or for me?” Dumbledore asked.

“Well, what good does a Death Eater want me to do with this worthless old bone?” Slughorn asked back.

“I think they'll want you to use your intelligence for repression, torture and murder.” Dumbledore said, "You have a place among them, and many of them respect you, don't you? How dare you say they didn't come to pull you in? ”

Death Eaters, especially the original Death Eaters, are overwhelmingly Slytherin students in Voldemort's original class.

Slughorn was their dean at the time, and he had a set in his cage.

Slughorn stared at Dumbledore for a moment and whispered, "I've never given them a chance, and for a year, I've been in uncertainty and never stayed in a place for more than a week. Moving from one Muggle house to another, the owner of the house is on vacation in the Canary Islands. ”

“Hey, I'm so comfortable here, I can't leave. You know, it's not that hard. Once you find the trick, it's easy. They don't need a speculum, and with those ridiculous burglar alarms, all you have to do is put a frozen spell on it, and don't let the neighbors see it when you move the piano in. ”