https://novelcool.info/chapter/Chapter-731-Unexpected-Encounter-with-Longbottom/13685962/
Chapter 730: A Brief Awakening
When the Treatment Specialist retreated once more beyond the door, Dumbledore slowly drew back the curtain. Slughorn lay curled on the bed, clutching a pillow like a child, his body trembling faintly. His eyes were tightly shut, feigning sleep—but every now and then, a sliver of his eyelids would part, darting a furtive glance outward.
Dumbledore stared at the sight, his carefully rehearsed words caught in his throat. What emerged was only a whisper, barely audible: a sigh.
Wade, observing this, suddenly felt a spark of insight. He reached into his Cloak’s hidden pocket and quietly commanded it to open. One by one, the Magic Puppets emerged from within—some missing limbs, others charred and broken, their twisted forms far more grotesque than usual. Since waking, he hadn’t had time to repair them.
Yet, as the grotesque figures surrounded Slughorn, something miraculous happened. His breath steadied. His rigid body relaxed.
He opened his eyes—dazed, disoriented—and looked around at the cluster of broken puppets. Suddenly, he reached out, cradling a mantis with half its head missing, then gently placed a few hornets onto his shoulders. The puppets responded instantly—some pressed against his back, others nestled into his arms, a few curled at his feet. Soon, the entire ward was filled with them, a strange, comforting swarm.
Wade leaned toward Harry and whispered, “Strictly speaking, the one who saved him that day wasn’t me. It was these puppets. He saw them fight to the death, saw them pull him free from captivity. So what calms him isn’t me—it’s them.”
“But without you,” Harry replied naturally, “there wouldn’t be any puppets at all. When he’s clear-headed, he’ll know who truly saved him.”
Dumbledore watched both of them, his eyes flickering with quiet contemplation.
Slughorn, now lost in the embrace of the puppets, slowly uncurled from his fetal position. His body relaxed, and a faint, genuine smile touched his lips. His cloudy gaze began to sharpen, as if a veil had been lifted. When he looked at Dumbledore again, the flicker of clarity in his eyes was unmistakable—awake, aware, human once more.
“Albus…” he croaked, his voice hoarse and frail. “So long… missing you… you old rogue… I thought I’d never see you again…”
“My dear, beloved Horace,” Dumbledore said, voice trembling, “I owe you an apology… After Tom took you… I… I didn’t act fast enough…”
Slughorn weakly raised a bony hand and shook his head. “No, Albus… I’ve been hiding like a gnome for too long. Why should you be blamed for not noticing I was gone?”
He managed a bitter smile, revealing yellowed teeth. “Besides, I know… exactly who I should hate.”
His gaze drifted to Harry—settling on the boy’s emerald eyes, the lightning-shaped scar above his brow. He froze.
Slughorn had large, round eyes—sunken and hollow from illness, making them appear unnervingly bulging, almost terrifying. But now, they filled rapidly with tears.
“Harry… Potter?” he whispered.
“Yes,” Harry said, barely able to speak.
“I’m so sorry, child,” Slughorn murmured. “About your parents’… deaths… it was… dreadful. Truly dreadful…”
Harry had no words.
Slughorn wept, his voice thick and broken. “Your mother… Lily Potter… she was one of the brightest students I ever taught. Lively, kind… and so brave. So, so brave.” He let out a childlike sob. “I knew she fought against him with courage. But now… I understand… she was braver than I ever imagined.”
Harry stood still, his eyes glistening in the dim ward. After a long silence, he said softly, “Thank you… for remembering her.”
He paused. “I hope you’ll find your strength again soon. If your mother were still alive… she’d want to see you like this.”
“Lily Potter…” Slughorn whispered, as if seeing her once more—fallen beneath Voldemort’s Killing Curse. A long-forgotten agony surged through him.
His eyes began to glaze over, the madness creeping back in—
Then, a soft, warm sensation brushed his chest.
A cheetah puppet, its fur thick and plush, nuzzled against him, purring softly—its rumble so lifelike it sent shivers down his spine. The warmth of its body, the rhythm of its breath, felt utterly real.
Slughorn wrapped his arms around it. His breathing slowed, steadied.
He turned to Wade—really looked at him this time. Recognition flared in his eyes. A spark, familiar and bright, ignited within them. His fingers trembled.
“Oh… you’re… you’re… Wade Gray!”
His voice, suddenly restored to its former enthusiasm, even carried the familiar cadence of a professor’s lecture. “The inventor of the Magic Puppets! A true genius of Alchemy!”
His words came faster now, his hands gesturing wildly. “If I were still teaching at Hogwarts, I’d have invited you to join my club! Oh, you should’ve seen my collection—those photographs, the Book of Friends stacked on that shelf… seven volumes, Albus! The Minister of Magic’s signature on the first page! Barnabas Gufei, editor of The Daily Prophet! Gwenog Jones, captain of the Hollyhead Harpies…”
He pointed to the empty wall as if it were his own bookshelf, pride swelling in his voice. “Seven! Just imagine—”
Suddenly, Dumbledore cut through the flood of words, gripping Slughorn’s arm with quiet firmness. “Horace.”
The words stopped mid-sentence. The smile vanished.
Slughorn’s face fell. He was pulled back into reality, reminded of his situation.
Dumbledore looked pained, but resolute. “You know what I need… my dear Horace. You know how vital this is.”
Slughorn stared at him, fear in his eyes, breath ragged and uneven.
For nearly two minutes, silence hung between them. Then, under Dumbledore’s calm, unwavering gaze, Slughorn slowly drew his wand. He pressed the tip against his temple.
“I… I made a mistake… I’m ashamed… I’m sorry… I think… I may have caused great harm…”
Tears streamed down his face as he whispered. With a soft pull, the wand withdrew—leaving behind a slender, luminous silver thread, glowing faintly.
Dumbledore swiftly conjured a transparent crystal vial and captured the memory within.
The next instant, Slughorn’s voice rose, high and exuberant: “Oh, pineapple candy! Yes, I love it! Thank you for the gift… No problem, Frum, I’ll help you find a job—I know so many amazing people…”
(End of Chapter)
Chapter end
Report
