Chapter 466: Harry's Journey
Chapter 466: Harry's Journey (Requesting Subscriptions, Favorites, and Votes)
The morning after Liam and his companions' Engagement Ceremony, at nine o'clock, two small blue birds arrived at their residence, carrying a parchment letter larger than themselves. Liam, who had just returned from sending his parents back to Qiantang the previous night, had just climbed out of bed.
"Hermione, our O.W.L. Exam results are here", Liam called out to Hermione, who was in the bathroom tidying up.
"What? Oh, finally! I hope I did well. The international mail across Eurasia, plus the customs clearance time, really made me anxious. If we were in Britain, I think we would have received these letters a week ago", Hermione said, stepping out of the bathroom and drying her wet face with a towel.
Unable to contain their excitement, they tore open the envelopes and pulled out the letters. As expected, they both received ten Outstanding marks, which meant they could choose the courses they had planned to take this year.
"I wonder how our friends did", Hermione said, nodding in satisfaction after checking her results. "What do you think Harry and the others are up to?"
"I'm not sure about the others, but I bet Harry has a lot on his plate. After all, he's the Chosen One. His holiday probably won't slow him down. Professor Dumbledore might have taken him on some adventure", Liam speculated.
Indeed, that was the case. A week ago, Headmaster Dumbledore had gone to Privet Drive to rescue Harry from his aunt and uncle's house. After delivering Harry's luggage to The Burrow, Dumbledore took Harry on a side-along Apparition to an abandoned village. In the middle of the grounds stood an ancient war memorial and a few benches.
After walking with Professor Dumbledore for a while, passing an empty pub and several houses, Harry finally couldn't contain his curiosity. "Um—Professor, where are we exactly? And why are we here?"
"This is the charming village of Budleigh Babberton, Harry", Dumbledore said, turning a corner and passing a telephone booth and a bus stop. "As you can see, we often find ourselves short of professors. So, we are here to persuade a retired colleague to return to work at Hogwarts. As for why I brought you along, you'll find out soon enough."
They then discussed Harry's scar (Harry: "Thank heavens, it finally stopped hurting.") and the recent events, such as Emmeline Vance's sacrifice and Amelia Bones' severe injuries (Dumbledore: "Madam Bones was indeed lucky that day. Voldemort found her just as Percy and his team were visiting her, so she managed to survive, but poor Bones will likely spend Halloween at St. Mungo's.")
As they chatted, they approached a neat, small stone house set in a garden. Dumbledore looked at the well-maintained path ahead, and his heart sank when he saw the front door hanging crookedly on its hinges.
"Harry, draw your wand and stay close", Dumbledore whispered, pulling out his own wand and scanning the area to ensure they were alone. He then lit his wand and quietly entered the house, with Harry following nervously, wand at the ready.
As they moved through the hallway into the living room, the scene before them was one of chaos: an antique clock lay shattered at their feet, its face cracked and its pendulum lying a short distance away like a discarded sword. A piano had been overturned, its keys scattered. Nearby, the pieces of a shattered chandelier sparkled on the floor. Cushions were strewn about, deflated and spilling feathers from their tears. Broken glass and ceramic shards covered the ground like powder. Worse still, Harry's keen eyes spotted dark red, sticky substance splattered on the wallpaper, and he traced it with his wand, finding it even on the ceiling.
Was this the result of an attack? Harry wondered, but upon closer inspection, something seemed off. He had read several detective novels recently, and Liam had debunked some of the plot points, explaining basic crime scene analysis. According to what Liam had taught him, Harry couldn't understand why, if there had been a fierce battle, there were so few footprints on the floor, only some broken furniture.
"Can you see that something's not right?" Dumbledore said calmly, looking at the contemplative Harry. "I think this is just, ah, a little joke from an old friend."
With a relaxed, even mischievous expression, Dumbledore and Harry quietly approached a single armchair. Dumbledore then suddenly poked the bulging back of the chair with the tip of his wand. A bald, fat old man's head suddenly popped out from the top of the chair, exclaiming, "Merlin's beard!"
The armchair quickly transformed into the fat old man standing there, rubbing his belly. "You didn't have to poke me so hard, Albus. That really hurt. And, where did I slip up?"
"Horace, if the Death Eaters had really come, they would have left the Dark Mark in the sky", Dumbledore said. "By the way, let me introduce you. Harry, meet my old friend and former colleague, Professor Horace Slughorn. Horace—"
"I know him, Harry Potter", the old man said, looking at Harry's forehead. "His picture has been all over the newspapers lately." He then walked to the door and locked it.
"Shall I help you tidy up?" Dumbledore asked politely.
"Please!" The two old men, back to back, waved their wands in unison. The furniture jumped back to its original positions, the decorations reformed in mid-air, the feathers burrowed back into the cushions, and the silver picture frames on the floor reassembled and flew back to the desk. The chandelier returned to the ceiling, and the entire room was restored to its original state. Under the newly lit lights, the room became cozy and warm again.
"You think he can persuade me, is that it? Albus, the answer is no!" Slughorn said. "It's true, I'm an old man, Albus. A tired old man who has the right to a peaceful life and some material comforts."
"Living in hiding, are you?" Dumbledore exposed. "I imagine they're looking for you too."
"Yes, I move every few weeks, but Albus, look at the casualty rate among the professors at your school—Are you leaving?" Slughorn asked hopefully as he saw Professor Dumbledore stand up.
"No, I just wanted to use your bathroom", Dumbledore said. Watching Dumbledore walk away, Slughorn turned to Harry, who was watching him. "You look a lot like your father, except for your eyes."
"I know, they're like my mother's", Harry nodded. He had heard this so many times that it was starting to get a bit tedious.
"Lily Evans was one of the cleverest students I ever taught", Slughorn said, lost in thought. "And considering she was a Muggle-born, that makes her even more remarkable. I often said she should have been in our house, but she always gave me a very firm answer."
"You were—?" "I was the Head of Slytherin House back then", Slughorn said, glancing at Harry. "Don't look at me like that. I'm not a prejudiced person. In the past couple of years, I've seen in the papers that two of your classmates who received the Order of Merlin were Muggle-born wizards. Many of my favorite students were Muggle-born, like your mother, and Derek Crimp, who is now the head of the Goblin Liaison Office."
At this, Slughorn became excited and pulled Harry over to a cabinet filled with picture frames. "These are all my former students. For example, Bartholomew Cuffe, the editor-in-chief of the Daily Prophet, who often sends owls to me for my insights on current events. Ambrose Flume, who got a job through my recommendation and now sends me sweets and preserves every so often. And then there's Gwenog Jones, the captain of the Holyhead Harpies, who can always get me free tickets. It's a shame I haven't been to a game in a while."
The old man looked a bit downcast. "I haven't been in touch with any of them for a whole year. The feeling of being forgotten by the entire world is just awful."
(End of Chapter)
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