I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. Horrible delay.
Chapter 9. Absolutely and unequivocally no!
Lucius Malfoy leaned wearily against the trunk of one of the first trees of the Forbidden Forest, and let out a snort of disgust as his light blue eyes rested on the mighty castle of Hogwarts. The lighted windows just visible through the curtain of rain, angry hordes echoing in the air their feral screaming violently slamming against the man's heavy cloak and hood that partially hid his face.
The Death Eater continued to slide his eyes on the school. From what he had learned from the Daily Prophet, Professor Slughorn had returned to teach the Potion course taking the place of the twenty-one years old Professor Snape who, it was said, had to retire for health reasons. Pathetic... the oldest excuse in the world. But what Lucius had not yet figured out was if actually Snape were still at Hogwarts or not.
He had to find a way to find out, even if he imagined that Severus was not there anymore, he had to be certain that it was so. The news had reported that Snape was headed to Hogwarts after saving the Mud-blood. If they were still there, probably some college student would have known... to hide two lads injured in a school where lived nearly a thousand students was not so easy, even for someone like Dumbledore.
He had to find a way...
The rain continued to fall copious, drenching his black cloak and permeating through the hood to reach to the long wet hair on his forehead. Warm raindrops began to run down his face dripping from his blond locks now attached to his pale skin and his eyes continued to stare thoughtfully at the castle.
He reviewed in his mind the short article he had read on the Prophet, in the page dedicated to the school:
" Professor Slughorn returns to Hogwarts.
The former Potions teacher, who retired last year, returns to occupy the chair. "
Professor Slughorn returns ...
Professor Slughorn ...
Of course! Slughorn! Why didn't he think about that before? It was obvious that his former teacher was aware of the whole story... Dumbledore would not have had any other chance to get him to come back if not telling him the truth, maybe painting it a bit, but still the truth. Lucius knew how stubborn was his former Potions teacher and so did Dumbledore. And Lucius also knew his passion for Madam Rosmerta's Fire Whisky... Yes. The only problem was convincing Slughorn to speak with him, the professor would certainly not be happy to sit at a table in the Three Broomsticks drinking whiskey with someone accused of being a Death Eater. Perhaps, though, he could still count on his influence on the professor, if he could get a meeting with him outside of Hogwarts he would be home and dry... and he was skilled with the Imperius Curse if it was needed.
He could play on the fact that his belonging to Voldemort's inner circle had never been ascertained.
He would need all his comedian skills to get something from Slughorn. But he was a very good actor, after all.
Dear Professor Slughorn,
I had news of your return to teach at the beloved Hogwarts school. I've tried to contact you for a long, but I never got to find you.
I know what you are thinking as you read these lines: why should one trust a person who is suspected to be part of his ranks? I want to be honest with you. I just want to ask your advice, but I can not expose myself writing everything in a letter. I want to reassure you. I'm turning to you not in the role of the Death Eater they accuse me of being, but as ex-student who seeks your advice. These days to belong to an ancient Pureblood family means to be immediately branded as a Death Eater. Although it is not true you walk among people with that filthy accusation on your forehead.
What I want to send it with this is simply an invitation for a drink at the Three Broomsticks this evening. I seek your advice, professor, I feel lost, without a point of reference, and all these suspicions about me and my family... they make me feel dirty, you understand. I need to confront myself with someone who does notj udge me for my name, someone who would not misunderstand.
Hogsmeade falls under the protection of Hogwarts so, you see, no risks.
I wait for you at eight p.m. tomorrowat the Three Broomsticks. You are free not to come, your not obligated in any way.
Please, in honour of the good relationship always linked us since the school days.
Yours sincerely,
Lucius A. Malfoy
Horace Slughorn made his eyes run again on the letter that had just been delivered. He read it all again from beginning to end.
It was ridiculous! Absolutely ridiculous! He wanted nothing to do with those psychos!
I feel lost... No point of reference! The nerve! Did he really think to be able to trick him in that way?
Lucius Malfoy had been one of his favorite students at school, Prefect and member of the Slug Club... he looked like a good guy, despite his exhalation for the blood purity. After all he could not do the brainwashing to his students, right? When Lucius had left school he had immediately guessed which way he would have embarked and let him go, as he had left free to choose many of his Slytherin.
The charges that the Ministry moved against the Malfoy family had always been considered truthful. He, however, had not wanted to expose himself towards one side nor towards the other. Sometimes staying in neutrality was the best thing to do. Live and let live: this was his motto.
Someone knocked at the door of his office and opened the door before Slughorn could invite him to enter.
Dumbledore stepped in from behind the threshold, while the Potions teacher made disappear in a hurry Malfoy's letter into a desk drawer, and he sapped it shut pinching the poor letter that now was showing its white tongue to the headmaster popping out of the drawer for a corner.
"Are you all right, Horace?" Dumbledore asked snapping his eyes from the letter to Slughorn, noting the purple colour on the face of his colleague and his troubled eyes darting from side to side.
"Albus." Slughorn said, recovering a little quiet. "Why do you knock if then you don't give the time to say 'come in'?"
Dumbledore gave him a sly look, closing the door without taking his piercing eyes away from the colleague.
"So, Albus?" Slughorn said. "What do you want?"
The headmaster put his slender hands behind his back hiding them in the waves of his dark blue cloak.
He looked up at the ceiling as to inspect every corner of the vault with an air of indifference.
"Oh, nothing." He said simply making a few steps forward as he let his eyes having fun as they slip in every corner of Slughorn's office, curious, making a big commotion during their rascal games.
"Then why are you here?" Professor Slughorn asked, suspicious.
"Oh, I just wanted to see you." Albus said as he move closer to the desk, at the same instant in which Slughorn was pressing his her back against it trying to hide the letter that continued to blow raspberries from the drawer. It would be pretty embarrassing for Slughorn being found in possession of a letter sent to him by a Death Eater. Really embarrassing.
Dumbledore's eyes passed on the desk carelessly. He ran his long fingers on the papers scattered on it and letting race a quick glance on them. He noticed some Potions tests of the fifth year and grabbed one of them reading it with fake interest.
Slughorn looked at him indignantly. He knew what the behavior of the headmaster meant, and that irritated him even more. He had come to ask him a favor. It was sure as hell. And he knew... oh yes! He knew and he stood there dawdling and pretending not to care. Horace snatched the paper from Albus' hands and confronted him face to face.
"Merlin's beard!" The Slytherin howled. "Stop snooping everywhere! May I ask what you want?"
Albus blatantly ignored him, pretending not to see the red face and the nervous trembling of his colleague's bushy mustache, and continuing to flip through the papers in the desk. "I thought you had received a letter ..."
"My correspondence is not your affair. And now I'd be grateful if you'd go..." Slughorn angrily put down the Potions test that he still had in his hand and indicated the door to Dumbledore.
"Come on, Horace. Both of us know you just received a letter from Lucius Malfoy." The headmaster said stopping to browse through the papers and looking serious.
The tone of Slughorn became suspicious: "How do you know?"
"I've intercepted a nice-looking and proud barn owl... You understand, these are difficult times, I do not like being nosy, but you know, you can never be sure. So I called the barn owl and I read the name of the sender on the envelope: Lucius Abraxas Malfoy. Twenty-seven years old, married to Narcissa Black, a year younger. A son, Draco Lucius, who turned a year last June 5. Suspected to be part of the Knights of Walpurgis." Dumbledore finished rattling off all the information about Malfoy and looked back at Slughorn with piercing eyes, spying him from over his half-moon glasses.
"Did I mention that my correspondence is not your affair?" Replied the professor angry, not at all impressed by those words, solid on his position.
Dumbledore looked at him without answering, the hounds of his blue eyes steady, ready to pounce.
"I want to be left in peace." Slughorn said clearly. "Which part of this sentence you do not understand? You've managed to convince me to return to teaching, do not think that I could be dispose to do you other favours. Above all, nothing that has to do with this war. I want to be left in peace. I'm not a soldier, I'm not a spy: I am a teacher. A teacher who was happily retired before you came to turn his life upside down"
"I didn't come here to ask you favours, Horace." Dumbledore said. "Right now I just want to know what is written on that letter."
"No way!" Slughorn growled. "It 's private correspondence. Do you understand that word, Albus? Private! "
No. He was already enough embarrassed after receiving that letter, without Dumbledore knowing that a Death Eater sought his advice. To what end, then? In short, he wanted to stay out of all that chaos that was going on around him. He was fine in his silent limbo... why would he expose himself?
"Nothing is private when you are at war." Dumbledore said calmly, distracting him from his thoughts.
"It's not my war!" Horace exclaimed in response.
"You can't help it, my friend." Dumbledore smiled. "The war affects us all. But I'm not forcing you to fight on the front line: I'm asking just one letter."
"No, Albus. No, " Slughorn said.
The headmaster looked at him sadly. The water hounds of those irises so sharp crouched moaning while their downcast eyes rested on Slughorn, appealing.
"Horace, that letter could be helpful to the cause. Remember Lily Evans? She was one of your favourite students, if I'm not mistaken." Albus said quietly.
Slughorn calmed down a little on hearing that name. Of course he remembered Lily. Lovely Lily. She graduated only three years before with full marks. Yet, rather than her school performance, Slughorn had always appreciated the kindness, the brightness, the availability to anyone who asked for her help and her advice.
He knew. He knew what had happened that night in Godric's Hollow. Albus had told him when he had come to his house to ask him to resume his place as Professor of Potions.
"Her husband died and her son disappeared. And perhaps in that letter there is a clue that might put us on the right track." Dumbledore continued mercilessly.
Slughorn looked at him thoughtfully. The dark, watery eyes lost in the alleys of his memories as a poor vagabond in a city known but insidious and obscure.
"And Severus." Albus had no intention of letting his grip off his prey, now that he had it in hand.
Slughorn started on hearing that name. Severus Snape, one of the few, or rather the only student who he would never have wanted him to take the dark path on which he was lost. For him, the opposite was true compared to Lily: Slughorn had always appreciated him for his great abilities, he was the most brilliant student of the school, but not because he studied tirelessly every day, which he did, but Slughorn and other teachers respected him especially for the interest he put in every branch of magic and his creativity that led him to solve any problem by reasoning, quietly bypassing the obstacle.
Horace had known a few gifted students as Severus Snape in his career... maybe just Tom Riddle. Yet he had never enjoyed him for his self-effacing soul, sullen and silent. But he had always admired the total devotion to any task he set to himself, the courage, Slytherin pride and determination... his thirst for knowledge that led him straight into the jaws of darkness.
"Voldemort hunts him down..." Albus hissed getting closer to his colleague.
Slughorn jumped aiming his eyes straight ahead as the headmaster.
"Do not say that name!" He exclaimed harshly.
Albus continued, ignoring the words of the professor: "He's looking for him and he will not rest until the betrayal is rewarded with the right money." He whispered.
He watched the reactions of his colleague, his thoughtful eyes, the mouth half open in a load of long-term suspension. The blue creatures in Dumbledore's eyes had a cruel grin drew on their lips: they were ready for the last jump.
"Do you want to deny your two former students, which I know you care about, a chance? Perhaps there is some indication in that letter... a little flaw escaped the watchful eye of young Lucius that can reveal something about the Dark Lord's plans. You want him to find them?" Albus asked pressing him. "Do you want this?"
As Dumbledore expected, Slughorn broke down. He sighed resignedly and then he turned his back to the headmaster. He opened the drawer where he had hurriedly closed and the letter drew a sigh of relief when its tongue was finally freed from that vice.
Horace looked at it for a moment, still unsure, but then he held it with trembling hand to Albus.
"Thank you, Horace." Dumbledore said warmly quiet taking the letter.
Albus fixed the dog-ear that had formed on the corner of the paper and began to read with fast eyes fast while Horace looked uncomfortable, holding his breath.
A few moments passed, during which the jaws of the light blue hounds, hungry, devouring the ink words could clearly be heard. They hunt them down, chase and capture them, to satisfy their hunger for information greedy drinking the black blood that glistened in wide arches in the elegant writing of the Death Eater. They rested just above the signature tasting its smooth writing, along curved lines up to get lost in the long leg of the 'y' and then leap into the void with the impulse received by that black tail and so back to plunge into the sea of the headmaster's eyes.
Albus handed the letter to Slughorn who caught it with trembling hands. Dumbledore looked at him inquiringly.
"So our Lucius wants to talk with you, eh?" He said quietly while Horace was putting the letter, now useless, on the desk and looked back at him with apprehension.
"Strange." Albus observed. "Why should he request an appointment with you?" This time the question was specific and Slughorn remained unsettled for a moment before answering.
"He said he wanted my advice on something." He said finally.
"Indeed. Your advice..." Albus was thoughtful. He raised hand to the chin stroking his long beard.
Slughorn saw a strange spark squirm like a little silver fish in the blue sea of the headmaster's eyes, and he did not like it at all.
"Lucius is seeking information." Dumbledore finally concluded. "He hopes maybe to get them from you." He pointed out to Slughorn who looked at him worried.
"From me?" He repeated surprised. "What does he think to get from me? He knows that I stay out of your intrigues! "
"A source of information internal to Hogwarts should never be wasted. Lucius knows this. You are a tasty prey, Horace. Lucius knows he can count on his influence on you and the fact that you do not know." Dumbledore told him starting to pace in the study.
"It seems to me a contradiction..." The Slytherin began, but Albus interrupted.
"No, it is not. As you said yourself, you're outside of my intrigues, but this does not mean you're not capable of watching. Lucius knows that you may be aware of something important without you knowing. He's pointing at something in particular... I'm afraid he's on the trail of Severus and Lily." Dumbledore said in one breath.
Horace looked at him with a gleam of understanding in his dark eyes.
"I reject the invitation, then." He said determined. "It was what I had intended to do. I want nothing to do with those people."
Dumbledore flicked his eyes on him. The silver fish leaping in his eyes was now clearly visible and even more worrying. It was there, just behind the half-moon glasses, ready to leap out.
"No. I have a better idea..." Here, the fish came straight in Slughorn's face slapping him with his cold tail.
Dumbledore stopped pacing and turned toward the professor.
"Tell him you accept the meeting..." He said.
Slughorn gave him a withering look: "What?" He asked, dumbfounded.
"Let me speak." Albus said raising his hand. "Tell him you accept to meet him, but at the Hog's Head."
"But Albus... the Hog's Head..." Slughorn began, but then a new awareness grew in him.
"No!" He cried hard. "I have no intention of taking part in your tricks, Albus! I will not start interrogating Malfoy! Forget it!"
Albus jumped immediately on the defensive: "I never said that. I only ask you to meet Malfoy, you have not to do anything, only discover what he wants. And then there will be Aberforth to control you, I will tell him everything. What have you got to lose?"
"What have I to lose? My peace, that's what! As I said, I want to be left in peace! I will not start to spy for you!" Slughorn howled, his cheeks had taken a nice vermillion ruddy, his mustache was quivering.
"Horace, remember Severus... and Lily. If we know what Riddle has in mind we can better protect them. If we work together we can catch the snake in the network." Albus said to him solemnly.
"No, Albus!" Slughorn exclaimed, very firm on its position and decided not to give in to that crazy old man who stood before him. "Absolutely and unequivocally, no!"
"Goodness sake, Black! How long does it take you to open a door?" Mad-Eye impatiently shouted while Black was fumbling with the lock of his house trying to open it.
"Wait a minute, give me time!" The young man protested moving hard the key in the lock.
Remus, not far away, sighed disconsolately looking up to the sky.
"I warn you, Black!" Moody roared. "Just hope that the child is not in your house or you may lose a limb!"
Sirius finally managed to snap the rusty lock. He pulled out the old key and put it in his pocket, then he lowered the handle making it squeal annoyingly.
He opened the door and the hinges continued to sing the plaintive song the handle had begun.
Remus walked near his two companions peering through the archway of the door. In his eyes appeared what looked like a living room. A battered old sofa in the middle of the room rested his tired feet on a rug, both tired and resigned under a cloud of dust. They could almost hear them coughing and breathing heavily while the chimney grumbled irritably from under the pile of papers and similar that littered its lamb.
Moody grimaced. "What a dump." He said with disgusted voice.
Sirius looked at him: "It was the only one I could afford, right?" He said placing himself on the defensive. "And it's only a second home..."
"Yeah, sure! You practically lived with James." Lupin observed with a smile.
Sirius winked at him, and then he lavished in a deep bow.
"Please gentlemen. My humble home awaits you..." He said ceremoniously inviting them to enter. Moody growled annoyed as he took a step forward.
Sorry again for this delay. But you know ... you can not work at Easter! XD
But don't you forget to review, eh!
