Chapter 1305 Persuasion

"For the old days..." Slughorn said softly. Reading at midnight

The big round eyes examined Ivan, Harry, Hermione, and the scar on Harry's forehead.

"Hey, the past is always worth remembering." He narrowed his eyes and took three deep breaths, "Abus, who are these three?"

"Harry Potter, Ivan Mason, Hermione Granger, you should have heard of their names." Dumbledore introduced, pointing to Slughorn and said, "Children, this is An old friend and colleague of mine named Horace Slughorn."

"Evan Mason, Harry Potter?" Slughorn murmured, "Yes, I've heard of it."

"Good evening, Professor!" Ivan said, bowing slightly to Slughorn.

"Don't shout, boy, I'm not a professor. I haven't taught for many years." Slughorn said immediately, as if frightened.

He wasn't looking at Ivan and the others, but turned to Dumbledore with an alert expression on his face.

"I know what you want to do, Albus, and you think that will convince me, don't you? I tell you, the answer is no!"

As he spoke, he turned his face to the side resolutely, as if he was resisting some temptation.

"But we can at least have a drink, and you won't refuse even that?" said Dumbledore.

Hearing this, Slughorn hesitated.

Then, gruffly, he said, "Okay, let's have a drink."

Dumbledore smiled at them as he turned and played with the bottles and cups.

With a flick of his wand he conjured three chairs, much like the one Slughorn had impersonated just now, and motioned for the three of them to sit down.

Next to the chair is a newly lit fire and a bright oil lamp. Ivan is sitting in the middle, and Harry is on the other side of the oil lamp.

Dumbledore deliberately placed them in a conspicuous position, facing Slughorn's position.

Sure enough, when he turned around, he could see the three of them at first sight.

"Hmph!" He quickly looked away, as if he was afraid that his eyes would be hurt.

"Here!" He handed a cup to Dumbledore who had already sat down, and pushed the tray in front of Ivan and the others.

Then, he sat down on a pile of cushions on the newly restored sofa, and fell silent with a stern face.

"Well, Horace, how are you these days?" asked Dumbledore.

"Not very well." Slughorn shook his head, and said at once. "Suffocation, asthma, and rheumatism. My legs and feet are not as flexible as before. The pain is tormenting me. Well, that's to be expected." .People are old and useless.”

"However, you have prepared such a welcome scene in such a short period of time. You must be agile enough. Most wizards can't do this." Dumbledore said, "I don't think you got the alarm at a very short time. Will it be more than three minutes?"

"Two minutes, I was in the shower and drank a glass of wine. I must have been slightly drunk and didn't hear the alarm." Slughorn said half annoyed and half complacent, and then he seemed to regain his composure, "But , the fact cannot be denied that I am an old man, Albus, a weary old man, entitled to a quiet life, and to some creature comforts, as I told you before."

He certainly had no shortage of creature comforts, and even drank special wine when he drank.

And the furnishings in the room, it's cramped and messy, but no one would say it's uncomfortable.

In addition to the original Muggle owner's belongings, there are many things that obviously belonged to Slughorn, such as the exquisite wine set, the unique ottoman, the ottoman, books, as well as boxes of chocolates and a set of books. A pile of bulging cushions.

If they didn't know who lived there, they would have guessed it was a fastidious lady.

Ivan knows that Slughorn is a very shrewd wizard, has all the characteristics of Slytherin, and enjoys it very much.

At least, he knows how to enjoy it better than all the wizards he knows.

"You're not as old as I am, Horace," said Dumbledore.

"Maybe you should consider retiring yourself. I heard that there have been a lot of troubles recently." Slughorn said bluntly, his light green eyes fixed on Dumbledore's spell-covered hand, "It can be seen that your reaction is not as quick as before."

"You're right," said Dumbledore calmly, shaking his sleeves up.

There, Ivan saw that his arms were also covered with complicated dark green spells.

They are intertwined and run up the arm.

What's this?

Ivan has never seen such a spell. He thought it was a magic rune, but now it seems that it is not the case.

This seems to be a curse, not just magical damage due to accidents.

"I am obviously slower than I used to be," said Dumbledore. "Dangerous magical experiments and adventures are no longer suitable for me, but it is also undeniable that the rewards of adventure are many, and our current progress is beyond imagination. On the other hand..."

He shrugged his shoulders and spread his hands, as if to say that old age has its advantages.

But Slughorn was definitely not listening to Dumbledore, his eyes fell on Gaunt's ring.

He frowned slightly, and a few wrinkles appeared on his wide forehead.

Ivan remembered that the fifteen-year-old Riddle told him and Dumbledore that Slughorn had seen such a ring.

Now the ring is exactly the same as before, except that the resurrection stone is kept with him.

Not to mention, the soul in the ring is casual!

Fifteen-year-old Riddle, Slughorn's favorite protégé must be watching him now.

But if he knew about it, or if Dumbledore had released Riddle, he would have run away in fright.

Those incantations eventually all converged on the ring, or in other words, they spread from here.

Ivan couldn't help but think, what exactly Dumbledore wants to do? Magic involving Riddle's soul?

"And, Horace, all these security measures against intruders, are they against the Death Eaters, or against me?" asked Dumbledore.

"Hmph, what would the Death Eaters want me to do with my useless old bone?" Slughorn asked rhetorically.

"I suppose they would want you to use your ingenuity in repression, torture and murder," said Dumbledore. "You have a place among them, and many of them respect you, don't you? Do you dare to say that they didn't come to recruit you?"

Death Eaters, especially the original Death Eaters, the vast majority of Voldemort's original team were students of Slytherin.

At the time, Slughorn was their headmaster, and he had a knack for winning people over.

Slughorn gave Dumbledore a savage look for a moment, then whispered, "I never gave them a chance. For a year I've been erratic, never staying in one place for more than a week. From a Muggle house moved to another Muggle house, the owner of this house is on vacation in the Canary Islands."

"Well, I'm so comfortable here that I can't bear to leave. You know, it's not really that hard, once you get the hang of it, they don't use sight glasses, they use those ridiculous burglar alarms, you just have to Put a Freezing spell on it, and just don't let the neighbors see the piano when it's brought in." 8)