"For the old days …" Slughorn said softly.
His big round eyes examined Elwyn, Harry, Hermione, and the scar on Harry's forehead.
"Well, the past is always worth remembering." He narrowed his eyes and took three deep breaths. "Abus, who are these three?"
"Harry Potter, Elwyn Mason, and Hermione Granger. You should have heard of them." Dumbledore introduced, pointing to Slughorn. "Boys, this is an old friend and colleague of mine. His name is Horace Slughorn."
"Elwyn Mason, Harry Potter?" Slughorn murmured. "Yes, I've heard of them."
"Good evening, Professor!" Elwyn said, bowing slightly to Slughorn.
"Don't call me that, boy. I'm not a professor. I haven't taught for years," Slughorn said immediately, as if he was shocked.
He stopped looking at Elwyn and the others and turned to Dumbledore, a shrewd expression on his face.
"I know what you're trying to do, Abus. You think this will convince me, don't you? I tell you, the answer is no! "
He said, turning his face resolutely to one side, as if resisting some temptation.
"But we can at least have a drink. You won't say no to that, will you?" Dumbledore said.
Hearing this, Slughorn hesitated.
Then he said stiffly, "All right, then a drink."
As he turned around to fiddle with the bottles and glasses, Dumbledore smiled at them.
He waved his wand and conjured three chairs, much like the one Slughorn had pretended to be, and gestured for them to sit down.
Beside the chair was a newly lit fire and a bright oil lamp. Elwyn sat in the middle, and Harry sat on the other side of the lamp.
Dumbledore deliberately arranged for them to be in a conspicuous position, directly facing Slughorn's position.
Sure enough, when he turned around, the first thing he saw was the three of them.
"Hmph!" He quickly looked away, as if afraid that his eyes would be hurt.
"Here!" He handed a glass to Dumbledore, who had already sat down, and pushed the tray towards Elwyn and the others.
Then, he sat on the pile of cushions on the sofa that had just been repaired and fell into silence with a straight face.
"How are you, Horace? How have you been lately?" asked Dumbledore.
"Not so good." Slughorn shook his head and immediately said, "I can't breathe, asthma, and rheumatism. My legs aren't as agile as before, and the pain is torturing me. Alas, this was also within his expectations. I'm getting old and useless. "
"But you must be very agile to have prepared such a welcome party in such a short time. Most wizards can't do this," said Dumbledore. "I don't think you heard the alarm for more than three minutes, right?"
"Two minutes. I was taking a shower and drinking a glass of wine. I must have been a little drunk and didn't hear the alarm," Slughorn said, half angry and half proud. Then, he seemed to regain his composure. "But the fact is, I'm an old man, Albus. A tired old man. I have the right to a quiet life and some material comforts, just like I told you before."
He was certainly not lacking in material comforts. He even drank specially brewed wine when he drank.
Also, the furnishings in the room were cramped and messy, but no one would say it was not comfortable.
In addition to the belongings of the original owner of the Muggle, there were many things that obviously belonged to Slughorn, such as the exquisite wine set, unique soft chairs, footstools, books, boxes of chocolates, and a pile of bulging cushions.
If they didn't know who lived here, they would have thought it was a fussy, upper-class lady.
Elwyn knew that Slughorn was a very smart wizard. He had all the characteristics of Slytherin and knew how to enjoy himself.
At least, he knew how to enjoy himself better than all the wizards he knew.
"You're not even as old as I am, Horace," said Dumbledore.
"Maybe you should consider retiring. I heard there's been a lot of trouble lately," Slughorn said bluntly. His light green eyes stared at Dumbledore's curse-covered hands. "I can see that your reflexes aren't as quick as they used to be."
"You're right," said Dumbledore calmly, shaking up his sleeves.
There, Elwyn saw that his arms were also covered with complicated, dark green curses.
They intertwined with each other and stretched up his arms.
"What is this?"
Elwyn had never seen such curses. He thought they were magic runes, but now it seemed that was not the case.
It seemed to be a curse, not a simple accidental spell damage.
"I'm obviously slower than before," said Dumbledore. "Dangerous magic experiments and adventures are no longer suitable for me, but it's undeniable that I've gained a lot from them, and our progress is beyond imagination. On the other hand …"
He shrugged and spread out his hands, as if he wanted to say that old age had its benefits.
But Slughorn was definitely not listening to what Dumbledore said. His eyes fell on Gunter's ring.
He frowned slightly, and a few wrinkles appeared on his broad forehead.
Elwyn remembered that the fifteen-year-old Riddle had told him and Dumbledore that Slughorn had seen a ring like this.
Now the ring was exactly the same as before, except for the Resurrection Stone.
Needless to say, the soul in the ring was whatever!
The fifteen-year-old Riddle, Slughorn's favorite student, must be watching him now.
But if he knew about this, or if Dumbledore released Riddle, he would definitely run away in fear.
In the end, the incantations all gathered on the ring, or in other words, they were originally spread out from here.
Elwyn could not help but think, what was Dumbledore trying to do? A spell that involved Riddle's soul?
"So, Horace, all these security measures against intruders, are they against the Death Eaters or against me?" Dumbledore asked.
"Hmph, what use do the Death Eaters have for my useless old bones?" Slughorn retorted.
"I think they want you to use your intelligence for suppression, torture and murder," said Dumbledore. Dumbledore said. "You have a high place among them. Many of them respect you, don't they? Do you dare say they didn't try to recruit you? "
The Death Eaters, especially the first Death Eaters, were mostly Slytherin's students in Lord Voldemort's first team.
At that time, Slughorn was their dean, and he was very good at winning people over.
Slughorn glared at Dumbledore for a moment, then said in a low voice, "I never gave them a chance. For a year, my whereabouts have been erratic, and I never stayed in one place for more than a week. I moved from one Muggle house to another Muggle house, and the owner of this house is on vacation in the Canary Islands. "
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