This is mainly an old character piece I pulled out from my notes and cleaned up.
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A Slug's Life
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As the servers on loan from the Peacock's Platter unobtrusively removed the dishes that had held the main course of the banquet in preparation for the presentation of the desserts, Horace turned to look at the dark-haired young man sitting to his right.
"I heard that you helped to prevent some… unpleasantness over in America a few months ago." He prompted.
"He did." Lord Malfoy noted from his seat on Horace's left. "Apparently, there is life on other planets and some of it tried to invade. The Muggles already had their own team on site, but Harry took his own to give them a hand."
"And I heard that you had some obscurials on your team." Horace noted blandly, then he raised an inquisitive eyebrow as Harry shook his head.
"Obscurials are those who cannot control their magic. The five who helped to fend off the invasion have full control of their powers and are helping others to learn to do the same. They are not Obscurials, they are Inlumians."
"Beings of light." Horace mused. "Fascinating…"
"To change the subject," Harry nodded slightly towards the table in the corner where several people were holding an animated discussion. "Who's the newest one? She sort-of looks familiar…"
"That would be Astoria Greengrass." Draco supplied. "Currently the youngest Potions Mistress in the country. By the way, that medical-arch your company donated to St Mungo's? It saved her life. It let them identify not only the blood-curse that was weakening her, but also the genetic disorder that was both hiding and amplifying the curse. Pure-magic scans wouldn't have been able to pick it up. The treatment was expensive, but I got a new researcher out of it, so I was happy to meet the costs."
"Her most recent project was one that I found quite useful." Horace admitted as the first of the many and varied desserts were placed on the table before them. "Despite all that potions like Skelegrow could do, my arthritis was beginning to slow me down, but after she formulated a version that also regrew the cartilege that had worn away over time… I haven't felt so mobile in over a decade! Ooh, Chocolate Roulade!"
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With the meal an hour past and the vast majority of the guests departed to spend the rest of Christmas Eve with their own families, Horace strolled through the large display room, pausing to look at various exhibits.
"Aren't you afraid that someone will try to steal some of this?" A voice asked from the door and Horace half-turned to smile at the dour man who had spoken.
"Oh, not one bit, my dear Severus." He replied, pausing to take a sip of the glass of brandy that he held. "These display stands were donated to me by Lord Potter, they're made of Spellglass and Adamantium. You would have to destroy the entire building in order to break these displays."
With a swirl of his cloak, Professor Snape glided across to stand by Horace, who was looking at a very familiar broken wand on a floating cushion.
"I still haven't managed to work out how Potter does that Atlantean magic of his." The teacher half-grumbled. "Lord Longbottom and I have been working on it for almost three years now, using fragmented notes that somehow survived the suppression of non-wanded magic. The closest we've got to it… let me show you."
Horace watched as Severus held both hands out, then he brought them together before pulling them apart, a writhing thread of golden magic bridging the gap for a moment before it flickered out of existence.
"Great Merlin! What was that?"
Severus wiped his brow. "Difficult. There are references to a near-legendary place where even muggles can use magic, a place called Tammarj-An… or something like that. Once I finish training my replacement, I intend to take a sabbatical and try to find it."
"I look forwards to hearing the tale of your quest." Horace replied.
"I look forwards to telling it to you." Snape returned, a small twitch indicating that had he been anyone else, he would have been smiling. For a long moment, the two men stood in silence, then Snape looked past Horace. "What is the story behind that?"
Horace blinked, then he followed Snape's gaze to a large picture showing a variety of animals in what seemed to be a forest clearing. The animals were in an arc surrounding a large white dog that Snape instantly recognized and a smaller reddish animal that bore some resemblance to a stoat.
"Oh, I am very proud of that picture." Horace nodded, moving closer to the picture. "Did you know that I am also an Animagus now? Young Harry was the one who helped me with the ritual."
"That animal… is you?" Severus asked, looking closer at the animal and Horace nodded.
"Oh yes. I am a Polecat, you know. A red polecat, although my grey hairs are sadly still showing in that form. On cold nights, it is very nice to curl up in a heated basket in front of the fire. Things like chicken and goose also seem to taste better."
"Ever since that ritual was introduced, there has been a rather impressive increase in Animagi." Severus noted and Horace gave him a knowing look. "What?"
"Nothing. Nothing." Horace waved away Severus' query. "I know that you have no interest in trying the ritual for yourself."
The taller man gave his elder a long, suspicious look, then turned back to look at the picture.
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"Sir Slughorn. Welcome!" the pretty witch at the reception smiled at Horace. "Merry Christmas!"
"And the same to you, my dear." Horace replied jovially, his prodigious memory for names and faces allowing him to recognise her. "How is your brother doing? He's in his third year, isn't he?"
"He is and he's in the top three at Hogwarts." The witch smiled happily, obviously pleased that someone as famous as Horace was taking an interest in her and her family.
"He is obviously trying to live up to your example, my dear." Horace replied, taking her hand and lightly kissing it.
"Are you trying to steal my employees?" An amused voice asked and Horace brightened as he turned.
"Narcissa! I see that you are still as beautiful as always."
With a small laugh, the former Malfoy Regent glided forwards, taking Horace's offered arm and guiding him to the Drawing Room where Horace knew that a tumbler of his favourite tipple was no doubt waiting for him.
"You really shouldn't try to flatter me like that." She jokingly scolded and Horace adopted a look of confused innocence.
"But how can the truth possibly count as flattery?"
Narcissa's musical laugh caused Horace to smile as they crossed the entrance hall.
"I see that the Peacock's Nest is doing well." He noted as they passed a new statue in a previously-empty nook, a statue that nodded to them in greeting.
"We have a new artist in residence." Narcissa noted. "He's incredibly gifted, I've already commissioned a Portrait from him."
"Really?" Horace raised a quizzical eyebrow. "If I had not already had a Portrait of my own created for me, I would indeed be interested. If he has earned his way into working here, he must be truly incredible."
"Having him on staff was quite the triumph for us." Narcissa demurely gloated as they came to a stop by the comfortable armchair that had been designed and constructed specifically for Horace. Noting the small decanter and brandy snifter on the table by the side of the armchair, along with the folded copies of the Daily Prophet and the Magical Times, he half-turned and gave Narcissa a courtly bow, kissing the back of her hand as he did so.
"I am glad to see that you are doing well, my dear." He smiled up at her. "Now, although I would love nothing more than to spend the next few hours talking with you, I fear that your Maître-D is seeking your attention. Do not worry about me, I am sure I'll survive."
Narcissa gave him a quick kiss on his cheek, then glided off to deal with whatever issue needed her attention. As she left, Horace lowered himself into the sinfully-comfortable chair and poured himself a fingerwidth of brandy before picking up the Times. Movement caught his attention and he pressed the embroidered rune that controlled the silencing spell around his chair.
"…ruddy Americans! My grandfather would have sorted out those ten-ring fellas again if he were still around…"
Removing his finger from the rune (and thus re-establishing the silencing field), Horace looked at the headlines of the paper for a clue as to what the Wizengamot member had been grumping about.
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Standing on his balconey, Horace looked down at the crowds filling the Teggs Nose cavern. A giant clock had been projected into the air and Horace watched as the second-hand completed another sweep, causing the minute hand to move closer to midnight.
Although many would have assumed that Horace would be holding another party to see in the new year, the truth was rather different. Horace preferred to be by himself at the end of the year, seeing in the new year alone. Part of it was financial, despite his gifted membership of the Peacock's Nest, hosting more than one official celebration a year would drain his vaults.
The other part was that he had preferred to see in the new year alone, contemplating the year gone by and the year yet to come.
Lifting his goblet, he took a sip from it and that would have been another thing that most people would never have expected since the drink within contained not a single trace of alcohol. Although he did enjoy the expensive beverages he often received, he was not as heavy a drinker as most assumed. While his reputation as a social butterfly and genial drinker was useful, he prized his sharp mind too much to risk clouding it, especially when when others were around. While he could act as if he was a mere few sips shy of inebriation, that was all that it was: an act designed to encourage others to relax around him, making it more likely that they would let slip information that he could hoard until it was time to use it.
The noise of the crowd below suddenly dropped and Horace raised his goblet as the second hand made the final circuit of the year. A huge cheer seemed to shake the cavern and Horace took a sip of the mixed-fruit drink, then tilted the goblet so that he could finish it off.
"Happy new year." He whispered, partially to himself and partially to those who were no longer with him, then he retreated back into his home, the wards and glass blocking out the sounds of the continuing celebrations.
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"…and so I was wondering if you knew of anyone who was both medically trained and willing to work with Muggles." Harry finished and Horace leaned back in his armchair, contemplating the request. As he considered the problem presented to him, he let his eyes drift to the gift that Harry had presented to him, a sphere that had accompanied Harry from Atlantis to Earth. The sphere, a small model of the world Atlantis had been located on, floated above a small crystal stand. The information that had once filled it had been extracted and was being used to improve the lives of all witches and wizards, but the sphere itself was a work of art in its own right.
"I can think of a few who may be interested." He finally allowed. "However, the Statute of Secrecy…"
"Already dealt with." Harry waved one hand. "As part of Unit Avalon, I'm helping to put together a group that can act as support staff for the planned teams. The Excaliber Squad is already being trained up while I've been asked to recruit and lead the Galatine Squad."
"What other teams are there?" Horace inquired.
"A couple more. Team Carnwennan is going to be the covert unit while Director Wisdom has asked for aid in recruiting for Team Onlanyhei…"
"Magic users." Horace nodded. "I recognized the old name for Merlin's staff."
"That particular team will come under the aegis of the DMLE." Harry stated, then he chuckled. "Although given that MI-13 already has a presence in our world, I think it'll be far closer to the other squads then the would-be recruits would assume.
"Other potential teams include Pridwen and Rhongomiant, but neither is in more than purely theoretical at this point."
"Of course," A new voice growled, causing Horace to jolt in shock, "All of this is classified. Lord Potter asked for permission to bring you in as a consultant."
Horace stared at the dark-haired man who had stepped out of the shadows.
"Potions Master Horace Slughorn, meet Director Wisdom of MI-13." Harry smiled and the dour man nodded.
"Consider yourself hired, Potions Master Slughorn." He said. "You will be very well recompensed for your time and I can assure you that we have covered up all traces of that conversation that you had with Tom Riddle."
Horace swallowed nervously at the veiled threat.
"So," Harry prompted, "About those recommendations?"
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Author's Afternote:
Galatine was the name of Sir Gawain's sword, which was reputed to confer invincibility when exposed to sunlight. It seemed very apt given Harry's Kryptonian heritage…