Chapter 6

Slughorn groggily came to, his head feeling like it had been hit with a bludger. He looked around, taking in his surroundings. He was in a field, the grass tall and uncut. The sky was overcast, the clouds heavy with a light rain. As he tried to sit up, he felt a sharp pain in his chest. He winced and slowly lay back down, his hand pressing against the spot where a particularly nasty curse had landed.

He remembered the duel with Lily, the way her wand had flown through the air as she cast spell after spell at him. He remembered the way her entire apartment had been destroyed in but a few short moments, objects flying everywhere as they fought. And he remembered the way the boyfriend had inadvertently killed himself while trying to cast fiend fire.

Slughorn feels a pang of guilt, knowing that even though he had not directly caused the boyfriend's death, he had still been involved in the altercation that led to it.

As he looks around the field, he sees the charred remains of the boyfriend's body, a grim reminder of the night's events. Slughorn knows he must do something to honor the man's memory, even though he had been his enemy. He stands up, using magic to steady himself, and begins to dig a grave for the body.

As he works, sweat dripping down his face, he finds himself thinking about the man's life and the choices he had made. Slughorn knows that he, too, had made mistakes in his past, and he wonders if the boyfriend had been given the same chance at redemption. When the grave is finally dug, Slughorn gently lowers the remains into the ground and begins to cover them with dirt.

Slughorn searched the area for a large rock to use as a headstone. He found a flat, smooth boulder and used his wand to carve a simple but heartfelt message into it with the tip of his wand.

Realizing he did not even know the boy's name, he inscribed, "Here Lies a Lost but True Soul," tears streaming down his face.

After a moment's sadness Slughorn looked up and locked eyes with a strange little creature standing no more than ten feet from him.

"Oi! Who the devil are you?" Slughorn snapped, the sadness seeming to go away instantly..

The creature, a pukwudgie, sniffed haughtily and introduced itself. "I'm William, a groundskeeper at Ilvermorny, the American wizarding school about five miles south of here. I heard the commotion in the field. I was going to ignore it but then I saw flames and smoke, so I came to investigate. And you should be thanking your lucky stars that I did, because that glass in your face is showing the first signs of infection."

Slughorn frowned, gingerly touching the shards of glass embedded in his skin, wincing at the pain. "I suppose you're right," he replied, now completely forgetting about the newly dug grave they stood on. "What do you suggest I do about it?"

William shrugged his bony shoulders. "Come to the school's hospital, of course. We've got top-notch healers there. Unless you want to go around with permanent scars on that ratty old mug of yours, that is."

Slughorn hesitated, unsure if he could trust this strange creature. He had never met a pukwudgie before, however, he knew they had a reputation for deceit and rudeness. They were generally considered unfriendly creatures and always seemed to be up to no good. But the throbbing pain in his face convinced him otherwise, and he reluctantly allowed William to lead him to Ilvermorny.

As they walked back to the school, Slughorn decided he should break the awkward silence, he turned to William and said, "It's lucky that I accidentally apparated near your school. I could have ended up anywhere. I lost control, you see, when I was attacked."

William scoffed and replied, "It wasn't luck, dingus. When a wizard loses control of their apparition, they often appear near an area of dense magic, such as a wizarding school. Ilvermorny is located on one of the strongest ley lines in North America, so it's no surprise that you ended up here." Slughorn looked surprised, "Oh, I didn't know."

William continued, "Well, now you know. It's important to remember that magic has its own rules and it can be unpredictable if not understood properly… I suppose you are lucky you didn't splinch yourself. I have seen many careless wizards leave behind limbs when apparating without caution." Slughorn nodded, feeling a bit humbled by the strange creature. He had always been more focused on potion-making and therefore did not always learn much about other areas of magic.

As they walked, Slughorn couldn't help but ask more questions about this peculiar being.

"What exactly is a pukwudgie, William?"

William shot him an annoyed look. "I'm a pukwudgie, obviously. A pukwudgie is me! We're a species of magical beings native to the Americas, don't you know? We're skilled healers and protectors, and fierce warriors. We are brave and chivalrous. We are everything you wizards are not."

Slughorn raised an eyebrow at the pompous attitude of the creature, taking in William's wizened appearance. He was a small, spindly creature, with gnarled skin the color of tree bark and a wispy beard of white hair. He held in one hand a small bow and had a quiver of arrows slung over his back, the heads of which radiated a pungent smell of which Slughorn suspected was poison. Despite his age, his movements were quick and agile as he led Slughorn through the dense forest.

"You work at the school, you say?" Slughorn asked, trying to make conversation.

William grunted in response. "I'm the groundskeeper, like I said. It's my job to keep the school grounds in order and protect the students and staff from any threats."

Slughorn nodded, taking in the information. He was intrigued by this magical school and its inhabitants, if nothing else this hospital wing would provide a place to stay for the time being.

As Horace and William walked towards Ilvermorny, Horace couldn't help but ask more about the American wizarding school. William grumbled, clearly not thrilled about being asked so many questions, but he eventually relented and told Horace more about the school.

"It's one of the oldest in the country," William explained. "Founded by Isolt Sayre, a pure-blood witch who fled her abusive aunt and uncle in Ireland and ended up in the New World. She married a No-Maj, James Steward, and together they founded the school."

Horace was amazed. "A pure-blood witch marrying a muggle? That's rather uncommon in Europe, especially back in the day when this school would have been established."

William shrugged. "It's more common here, I suppose. There's not as much prejudice against No-Majs in America. And Isolt and James were passionate about creating a place where magic could be taught freely, without fear of persecution. I have, of course, heard of the troubles of the European magical community. You wizards are a fickle bunch."

As Horace follows William into the school, he is overwhelmed by the sights and sounds around him. The walls are adorned with intricate carvings and tapestries, depicting magical creatures and ancient spells. The floors are made of smooth, polished stone, and the air is filled with the faint hum of magic.

As they make their way to the hospital wing, Horace can't help but marvel at the impressive array of potions and remedies lining the shelves. William introduces him to Maura, a kind-faced healer with a gentle voice and a no-nonsense attitude.

"What seems to be the problem?" Maura asks, frowning at the deep cuts on Horace's face.

"This is Slugtooth," William says, gesturing to Horace. "I found him out in the field, covered in burns and cuts."

"It's Slughorn," Horace corrects, trying to get a word in edgewise. "And I was attacked. All I did was defend myself"

But Maura is already examining his wounds, her wand glowing softly as she casts a series of healing spells. "This is going to need some extra care," she says, shaking her head. "I'll have to clean the wounds and apply some potion to prevent infection. You should stay the night, of course."

After about an hour of drinking various potions and being poked and prodded with Mauras wand, Slughorn was finally left alone to get some sleep. Maura casted a darkness spell around his bed, providing him with some much needed shade so he could heal and sleep.

Slughorn was awoken by a sharp pain in his chest. He gasped for air as he sat up, rubbing his sternum. It felt like his heart was trying to break through his ribcage. He looked around the hospital room frantically, expecting to see Yaxley or some other Death Eater standing over him. But there was no one there.

He collapsed back onto the bed, trying to catch his breath. Sweat beaded on his forehead as he lay there, panting. He closed his eyes, trying to calm himself. "It was just a nightmare," Slughorn told himself.

But as he drifted off to sleep again, the night terror continued. He was back in Hogwarts, in his old potions classroom. The cauldrons were bubbling and steam was rising from the burners. Slughorn turned to see Yaxley standing in the doorway, a wicked smile on his face.

"I've been looking for you, Sluggy," Yaxley sneered. "You can't hide from me forever."

Slughorn reached for his wand and pointed it at the Death Eater, but it melted out of his hand like butter. He looked up at Yaxley in horror as the grizzled man advanced on him, wand drawn.

"You're coming with me," Yaxley hissed, grabbing Slughorn by the collar of his robes.

Slughorn tried to fight back, but he was too weak. He was dragged out of the classroom and down the corridor, his feet barely touching the ground. They passed through the Great Hall, where the other Death Eaters were waiting. Slughorn could see the terrified faces of his students. He wanted to let them know everything was ok, but it wasn't, and everyone knew it.

Finally, they reached the entrance to the dungeons. Slughorn knew he was doomed. He closed his eyes, waiting for the final blow… but it never came. The nightmare shifted, now he was raining through the dark, tangled undergrowth of the Forbidden Forest, his breath coming in short gasps as he tried to outpace Yaxley, following close behind. He could hear Yaxley's cruel laughter echoing through the trees, taunting him as he fled.

Suddenly, Slughorn stumbled and fell to the ground, his wand slipping from his grasp. As he looked up, he saw a circle of dementors closing in around him, their shrouded forms looming over him like wraiths.

Slughorn could feel their icy breath on his skin, could sense their malevolent presence leeching the warmth from his body. He tried to back away, but there was nowhere to go.

The dementors leaned in closer, their hooded faces inches from his own. Slughorn could see the darkness within their empty eye sockets, could feel their icy fingers reaching for his soul. Right as the dementor's face was inches away from his own, the nightmare shifted again.

Slughorn was back in his home, disguised as the old armchair, as he was at the beginning of his journey. But this time the disguise did not work.

Slughorn lay quietly, his heart pounding in his chest as he heard the heavy footsteps of Yaxley approaching. He could feel the sweat dripping down his forehead as he waited for the inevitable moment when Yaxley would discover him. He closed his eyes and tried to steady his breathing, hoping that perhaps if he remained still enough, Yaxley would simply pass him by.

But it was not to be. Suddenly, the armchair shook as Yaxley's hand reached out and jabbed his wand into the cushions. Slughorn's eyes flew open, and he found himself face to face with the sneering Death Eater.

"Well well, what have we here?" Yaxley said, a twisted smile on his face. "The old potion master, trying to hide from me like a coward. You should have known better than to try and run, Slughorn. You're not fast enough to outrun me."

Slughorn's stomach turned at the realization that he had been found. He knew that he was no match for Yaxley in a duel, and that he would likely not survive this encounter. He swallowed hard, trying to think of some way to escape or at least stall for time.

"Please, Yaxley," he said, his voice shaking. "I-I don't want to fight. I just want to retire in peace. I won't cause any trouble for you, I swear."

But Yaxley only laughed, a cruel sound that sent shivers down Slughorn's spine. "You think I'm going to let you retire in peace, old man? You've caused me enough trouble already, leading me on a wild goose chase all over the world. No, Slughorn. You're coming with me, whether you like it or not."

With those words, Yaxley grabbed Slughorn by the arm and dragged him towards the door, cackling maniacally as they went. Right as the pair were about to reach the front door, Slughorn awoke.

He opened his eyes to see Maura, the healer, standing over him with a concerned expression. Her wand light lit, cutting through her previously cast darkness. She had been gently shaking him, trying to arouse him.

"Professor Slughorn, Professor Slughorn are you alright?" she asked. "You were thrashing about and muttering in your sleep."

Slughorn sat up, still shaking with fear. He nodded weakly, unable to speak.

"It was just a nightmare," Maura said soothingly. "You're safe now. You're in the hospital wing of Ilvermorny."

Slughorn nodded again, finally understanding where he was. He let out a sigh of relief, feeling the tension drain out of his body.

"Thank you, Maura," he said softly. "I'm sorry if I disturbed you."

"Don't worry about it," Maura replied with a smile. "It's my job to make sure you're comfortable. Now, try to get some rest. You need to heal up."

Slughorn lay back on the pillow, still shaking a little. He knew he wouldn't be able to sleep easily after that nightmare. He knew he could not stay at Ilvermorny. Thinking of the looks of horror on the faces of the students in his dream. He knew he couldn't stay at a school in case he was tracked down. He refused to put students in danger.

"I will leave in the morning," Slughorn thought. But for now, I must rest.

Slughorn woke up the following morning to the sound of a tray being placed on the bedside table. He opened his eyes to see Maura standing over him with a concerned expression on her face.

"Good morning, Professor," Maura said. "I've brought you some breakfast. How are you feeling?"

Slughorn sighed and sat up in bed, rubbing his temples. "I've been better," he grumbled. "But I'm alive, I suppose that's something."

Maura frowned and placed a hand on his forehead. "You're still running a fever. You really should stay here and rest for a few more days. Your injuries are severe, and I'm worried about this infection in your cheek. Here, drink this," she handed him a chalice of pumpkin juice.

Slughorn took the cup graciously but shook his head as he swung his legs over the side of the bed. "I appreciate your concern, Maura, but I can't stay here any longer. I have somewhere I need to be."

Maura raised an eyebrow. "And where might that be? You're not exactly in a state to be traveling, Professor."

Slughorn hesitated for a moment, then sighed. "I want- I need to go to muggle London. It's important," he was not entirely sure why he said that, but he knew he wanted to be somewhere far away and that was the first place that came to mind.

Maura's expression softened. "I see. Well, I can't stop you from leaving, but at least let me provide you with a port key. It will be the safest way for you to get where you are going in your condition. The floo network would be too much stress on your system, and you certainly can't appartate."

Slughorn nodded gratefully. "Thank you, Maura. I appreciate it."

Later that day a house elf approached the side of Slughorn's bed, "Mister. Mister," the ugly little creature said. Mistress Maura has asked that I bring you this." The elf held out a broken quill. "It leaves in 5 minutes."

Slughorn took the portkey and held onto it without saying a word to the elf, who disappeared with a crack.

Slughorn felt a sense of nervousness as the port key activated, it had been years since he used one. Not to mention it was transporting him from the safety of Ilvermorny to the unfamiliar surroundings of London. He also couldn't shake the feeling that he was being watched, that Yaxley and the Death Eaters were somehow still on his tail, even across the Atlantic. Suddenly, he felt a pulling sensation, like a hook tugging from behind his navel. He was spinning faster and faster. Suddenly, he stopped.

As he materialized on the crowded streets of the city, he kept a careful eye out for any suspicious characters, his hand hovering near his pocket where he had concealed his wand. Despite the hustle and bustle of the city, Slughorn couldn't shake the feeling that danger lurked around every corner, waiting for him to let his guard down.

A/N

The magical creature called William that was introduced in this chapter is actually a reference to a canon character. William was introduced by JK Rowling in her short story about Ilvermorny on the Pottermore website. For a fuller appreciation I would recommend reading it!