Professor Slughorn

“Er —” Emma replied, pulling a face. “I asked Amara Zabini to take a quick peek during breakfast, but I was hoping it would pass over without a hospital visit.” She offered, casting her eyes downwards. Going to the hospital wing for anything but a crucial injury might take her away from training — or Merlin forbid, from a game!   

Horace had to refrain from visibly rolling his eyes. “Amara Zabini- though she has shown an aptitude for the field- is not a healer as of yet and therefore is not qualified to formally assess your injuries.” It never ceased to amaze Horace in all of his years of teaching the injuries students would hide just to play a silly game of Quidditch. “And in that case, I’ll ask you to pack your things and make your way to the Hospital Wing this instant for a proper assessment.”  

“Sorry, Professor,” Emma replied, removing the hand that was holding up her head and instead focussing on the cauldron in front of her, that was supposed to be filled with Wit-Sharpening potion, something she clearly needed. “I fell off my broom yesterday, hit my head pretty hard.” The reason she’d fallen off was that she’d been quite intoxicated, but that just didn’t seem very relevant to the situation right now.   

Horace Slughorn was no healer, but he wondered if Emma had a concussion. It would certainly explain her poor performance and apparent lack of consideration for what she was tossing in her cauldron. It was quite unlike her. “And what did Madame Pomfrey say when she examined that head injury?” He asked, though he fully suspected she hadn’t made a trip to the Hospital Wing at all.  

Of course it simply would not do to leave him alone. Where was the fun in that? “Oh really?” she questioned, charging after the potions professor, “You aren’t curious at all about how long you’ll be stuck with me for?”. Being back in these hallways brought back so many good memories and having Slughorn right here really made her think about all of the potions related incidents she had caused over the years. Like the time she had gotten into the supply closet and swapped quite a few ingredients which had resulted in an entire class of third years cauldrons blowing like a volcano and classes getting excuse for the day so that the room could be cleaned. Or the time she had accidentally  overturned an entire large cauldron of amortensia into a pepper up potion that a group of sixth years was preparing to ingest. Good times.    

Horace practically had to bite his tongue in order to stop himself from telling his ex-pupil that any duration of time at the school would be too long. “How long?” He asked with a poorly concealed groan, not turning to look at her as he was well aware of how she trailed after him. Long-suppressed memories of exploding potions, endless hours of cleaning, late night detentions, and seven years of pranks paraded through his mind along with the early stages of a resignation letter that he may very well hand in to Dumbledore should Bex’s stay last more than a week.  

Rebecca Lynnette Chittock was well aware that she was a whirlwind of a person. Rules were not made for breaking but for finding loopholes to. Cartwheels in hallways were only dangerous under a particular set of circumstances. A) If the hallway was crowded B) If there was something on the floor to make it slick and C) If there was anyone around to witness it. With none of the boxes ticked off she couldn’t help immediately whirling through the hallways only coming to stand upright when she saw what she thought, though it was definitely blurry after all that spinning, was a familiar face. “That’s right” Bex said with a triumphant smile, “I’m back”  

Horace Slughorn’s favorite part of being a Professor also happened to be his least favorite part: the students. Often times, he enjoyed cultivating young curious minds, encouraging passions, and of course collecting the very best amongst them into a network of elite witches and wizards with talents and skills that led them on to great success in life. In order to find such gems, however, Horace found he often had to sort though the worst as well, and those students were certainly as memorable as the best for entirely the wrong reasons. Chief amongst them was Rebecca “Bex” Lynnette Chittock, one of the most obnoxious students Horace had ever had the displeasure of teaching. “How? Who let you back here?” He asked, stunned to see her once again in the halls of Hogwarts. “No, don’t answer that. I don’t want to know.” He turned on his heel, walking the opposite direction and praying she didn’t follow him.  

WHO: Emmeline Vance & anyone  WHERE: The Great Hall WHEN: Right after the Quidditch match, on Saturday, March 11th

With a red-and-gold top hat on her head, Emmeline pouted at the Gryffindor table. She had not bothered to stick around after the match – it was bloody and the other Gryffindors around her were annoyed. Instead, she had made her way to the kitchens to grab a bowl of oatmeal before heading to bed. Emmeline wasn’t in the mood for celebrating, and she hadn’t eaten all day due to pre-game festivities. Grouchy was an understatement for how she was feeling. Her spoon clanged against the porcelain bowl as she felt a light touch on her arm. Without looking up, Emmeline groaned. “Are you here to pour some liquor in my oatmeal? I’m not interested, if you’re not.”  

“No, Miss Vance, I am not here to enhance your oatmeal, as that would be wildly inappropriate.” Horace sighed as he moved to sit across from the glum-looking Gryffindor. “And I’ll pretend I don’t know that your housemates have plenty of it stored up for what would have been a victory party had your Keeper done a better job on the pitch today.” Horace gave her a brief smile to let her know he was joking. “Cheer up, now, there will be another match soon enough. And there are certainly more important things in the world, like that potions assignment due next week.” Another joke, but perhaps an ill-timed one.  

“Is it supposed to look like that?”

Horace wandered over to Emma’s workbench and carefully peered into the cauldron. “No. No it is not supposed to look like that at all.” Disappointment was evident as he frowned at one of his best pupils. “Wake up Miss Vanity, You cannot brew a half-decent potion with your eyes shut.”

Severus pumped his arms, feeling the length of his robes billowing out behind him. It was a madhouse here, like nothing he had ever seen before. All around him, people were falling, screaming, dying. He narrowed his eyes, pointing out his wand to send an enemy flying to the right into one of the buildings. He refused to be one of them. He had a lot more that he meant to accomplish, and if he had made it through the last eighteen years of his life, then he could make it through this. It was hard to see very far ahead, what with the lights of spells – defensive and offensive alike – flying through the air. There was a fire up ahead, and large pillars of smoke camouflaged most of the surroundings. Still, through it all, he could see Hogwarts, just barely. He would make his way up there before he would regroup and run back down to see what he could find out. It shouldn’t be too hard, so long as he kept a close enough look on his surroundings.

It was this moment that he noticed a complication, following not very far behind him. He swiveled his head around, practically growling in anger as he caught sight of Professor Slughorn, still under some misguided notion that Severus needed protection. From the look of it, the older man was growing more and more winded by the second. Figuring he could take advantage of that, Severus turned around to keep an eye out for an alternative route of escape, one that Slughorn couldn’t possibly manage to get through on pace with him. It took a few minutes of running, but a new avenue finally presented itself to him. He took a sharp turn left, running straight through a half demolished building. From the sound of it, there were people fighting upstairs. He was already tired of being dragged into this battle, so he didn’t want to involve himself in anything further. He cast a Blasting Curse ahead at the wall in front of him, taking off through the now gaping hole. Another sharp right to run through an alleyway, and finally, he was free. He looked over his shoulder one more time, just to make sure that he was free, and then he continued to sprint towards his freedom.  

Everything was so noisy, Severus observed in annoyance. His eyes flickered towards the wall that separated he and Professor Slughorn from the soldiers that wanted to attack them. Despite being in such a dangerous position, Severus felt rather blase about the entire thing. He wondered when he had grown to be so indifferent that he was hardly concerned about his own imminent death? Perhaps he had grown bored and tired of the regular world? Then again, perhaps he was just so confident in his abilities that he didn’t feel any sort of need to worry. Severus smirked a little at Professor Slughorn’s obvious reluctance to charge into the fight. He adjusted his grip on his wand, turning to watch the door, just in case anyone decided to barge in. Severus didn’t bother responding to Slughorn’s question regarding the vials, figuring that a simple nod of his head ought to suffice. Of course he had the vials. Professor Slughorn might not have been aware to what extent, but Severus Snape was no amateur.

Catching the movement of Professor Slughorn’s arm just as he began to throw the potion, Severus turned around. The explosion was loud, and various bits of rock and dust rained down around them. Pushing his hair out of his face, Severus followed behind Professor Slughorn. As soon as they exited the building, Severus yanked his sleeve away roughly, his lip curling in distaste. “I can walk perfectly fine. You don’t need to grab me.” He sneered. Severus wanted to roll his eyes at the Professor’s ridiculous suggestions. He had half a mind to just walk off right in that moment, but that would draw unwanted suspicion. He took a deep breath, holding it in for a moment, before nodding. “Yes, sir.” A few more rocks slid out of place, but Severus didn’t feel like waiting much longer. “I’m going to go now.” He said, giving Professor Slughorn a pointed look. Without waiting any longer, Severus pushed off of the wall, and rushed back out in the chaos raging all around them. He was heading towards the castle, but he kept a sharp eye out for any of his fellow Death Eaters. It was about time he found out what the hell was going on.  

Horace was cautious exiting the building as the cloud of dust and snow still lingering in the air from the explosion of the potion made it difficult to discern anything in the alleyway. He kept a tight grip on Severus’ sleeve as he carefully stepped around the curled up forms of soldiers in the snow. He hadn’t even realized he had been holding onto Severus’ sleeve still, at least not until the boy yanked it away roughly. Horace resisted the urge to roll his eyes, he really was sick of spending so much time around teenagers. Especially ill behaved ones.

The sound of shifting rubble had Horace spinning around, his wand raised and his eyes wide. Perhaps it was one soldier who had managed to avoid Horace’s potion? Horace was so focused on the potential threat looming just feet away that it took a moment to register that Severus had taken off into the village. “Severus!” He hissed in exasperation as he followed his student. He considered for a moment leaving Severus to make his own way to the castle but quickly thought better of it. He was a professor after all and while he was not in the thick of the fighting protecting his students, he would at least watch Severus’ back. Well, for as long as he could manage to keep up with it. Severus was quite swift and Horace slower than he used to be. He was getting too old for this.  

Horace’s favorite room in the entire school was the Professors’ private lounge. A place untouched by students, even those that wandered the farthest restricted corridors, it was a refuge from acting the part of responsible adult if only for a little while at a time. After checking the schedule for next weeks’ nightly rounds and making himself a cup of tea, Horace sank into his favorite armchair with a stack of potions essays for grading in his lap. The lounge was busier than usual, and while this meant grading would be more difficult to focus on, the gossip would be much more interesting. Choosing to forgo the stack of papers, Horace caught a glimpse of the Care of Magical Creatures Professor and nodded a hello. “Long time, no see, Silvanus! And how is your semester going?”

It was exactly what she wanted and yet Andie felt … disappointed. She wouldn’t have wanted to confide in him by any means - she wasn’t sure if she trusted Professor Slughorn with her secrets. And yet it would have been nice to know that he cared about her. She hesitated but stood up after only a moment, because there was really no point in staying here. He couldn’t help her with her problems, and apparently didn’t even care to listen, and she knew that about him. “No, Professor, that was all. Thank you.” She smiled politely, despite the fact that he was no longer paying her any attention and slipped out of the office.

Andromeda had a difficult time relating to the professors at times. Slughorn was especially difficult, even though he had never seemed to care what she did before. The duel was different, she had to admit that, but she just wasn’t sure how he would respond to her this time. Her hands clenched together in her lap, only relaxing when he spoke. No punishment - that was all she wanted. If she could just put all this mess behind her, then she could move on with her life. “Thank you, Professor. For your sympathy and understand.” She gave him a small smile and nodded, her expression growing more serious. “I promise, I won’t be involved in anything like this again. And I’ll come straight to you if I hear anything like it.”  

Horace paused for a moment, warring with himself. A responsible professor might do more to help Andromeda, but what was Horace to do? He’d already promised not to punish her, and had received a perfect apology in return. As far as his job description went, that was all that needed to be done. It took him a moment’s hesitation, but he resolved that was all that would be done. “I am glad to hear it Ms. Black. If there is nothing else you would like to discuss, you are free to go.” Slughorn waved his hand in dismissal, already turning to his stack of 5th year essays to grade. Andromeda’s troubles were not something he could fix, and therefore not something he should concern himself with.   

Severus was… rather surprised that he and Professor Slughorn were not only working together, but quite efficiently and creatively as well. Severus had never doubted Professor Slughorn’s intellect. He was quite clearly an intellectual, and a scholar as well. He was well practiced in Potions and Severus had no criticisms with his talent. However, Severus had always found Professor Slughorn to be a bit too much of a panderer to take seriously. The way he swaddled up to those with influence, or infamy behind their names.. it made Severus want to roll his eyes. So many of his less talented classmates were in Slughorn’s silly little club based on their name, or their parents, or their blood status. What right did they have to be there over Severus, who had never been invited. Over Severus, who had done things they couldn’t even have imagined only as a fourth year. He, who deserved such recognition, but who could not get it because he was Severus Snape, and not Edgar Bones or Regulus Black. Severus had held these criticisms close to his chest, as he was prone to do with most annoyances, no matter how large or small. But right now, in the heat of it, those thoughts fell away.

All in all, Slughorn kept a very level head in conflict, leading Severus to believe that he had made some escapes before. He was quick on his feat too, coming up with that Confusing Concation/Draught of Living Death hybrid right there on the spot. That was an interesting branch of Potions, attempting to mix two Potions. He’d read briefly about it, but not in depth, as of yet. He reminded himself to look into that. At that moment, Severus heard the crashing sounds of many figures rushing into the shop. He sighed, almost boredly, and nodded to Professor Slughorn. “That sounds quite alright to me, Professor.” 

He pulled out his wand, pointing it ahead of him, just in case. He had a fair few new spells that he hadn’t tested yet that he could now put to good use to see how they interacted with actual people. “You lead the way, I suppose?” He cocked an eyebrow in Slughorn’s direction.  

Horace opened his mouth to protest that his plan sounded more than simply quite alright. In fact, he would argue that it was fairly close to brilliant. Severus Snape’s lack of enthusiasm or appreciation for Horace’s talent was the primary reason he’d never invited this otherwise worthy candidate to his Slug Club. Oh Severus had the talent, of course, but the Slug Club wasn’t merely any old honour society. The Slug Club, as all great establishments, was meant for networking purposes. Students who held a name, a talent, or a personality that promised a bright and successful future were invited to attend, but there was one very important commonality amongst them. Each member of his elite group valued Horace’s opinion and held him in high regard. Of course Horace meant for the students to network with one another, but should he not also benefit from establishing a network of his own? His collection of former pupils had served him well over the years. He attended nearly every sporting match he wanted, had influenced many a policy in the Ministry, and had connections that spanned the globe. He would have shared all of this with Severus Snape had his talented student shown any indication that he would appreciate such a thing.

As it was, the sound of many footsteps and shouts barging into the main shop was a much more pressing matter and Horace resolved to let Severus’ comment slide for now. “I suppose that would be the responsible thing to do, yes.” Horace muttered, drawing his wand. He didn’t much like the idea of charging first into the unknown dangers on the other side of the door leading to the back alleyway of the shop, but as a Professor at Hogwarts it was his responsibility to protect his students. Even those as unappreciative as Severus Snape. “Well now, you’ve got your vials then?” He glanced over his shoulder, double checking that they were set. “Here it goes.” With his concoction in one hand, his wand in the other, Horace blasted open the door and tossed the potion into the alleyway. Quickly, he grabbed Severus by the sleeve of his robe and pulled him against the inside wall of the shop in order to avoid the explosion of his potion. “Wait a moment for the debris to clear, and then head straight for the castle. Whatever you do, do not stop.” He instructed, shouting over the sounds of the battle that raged around them.  

She wanted to leave. She’d accomplished her goal for this interview and she wanted to leave but she couldn’t. And she knew from his words that he wasn’t ready to drop the subject yet. As liberal as Slughorn seemed to be, she wasn’t ready to say that she went to the duel because she was in love with Ted Tonks and wanted to be assured of his safety. “I don’t know why,” she said instead. If she were smart, she would have kept her mouth shut and let him do the talking but instead she found herself babbling. “The betrothal has been very difficult and Joseph has been … bothersome and I thought - I just wanted to see what happened.”  

If there was one thing in this world that annoyed Horace Slughorn, it was the excuse of ignorance. If one didn’t know, all one simply had to do was learn. He suspected Andromeda Black knew very well why she attended that duel rather than come to him and put a stop to it. As she carried on, however, he had to admit that her story was compelling and that he might very well believe it. Betrothals were customary amongst pureblood families, Horace himself had nearly been married off after his time at Hogwarts, but his parents had dropped the idea when Horace expressed his disinterest. Knowing Cygnus Black, Horace was quite sure that Andromeda would not be so lucky. He understood the necessity for families like the Blacks to carry on their legacy, but Horace couldn’t help feeling a bit sorry for Andromeda. “I’m sorry to hear that.” He said sincerely, shifting uncomfortably in his chair. How was he supposed to help with that? “I’m not going to punish you, dear. I’d just like to know we will not be discussing this sort of behavior again.” Andromeda had suffered enough and Horace decided he would not be the one to cause her further grief.  

“Give me a moment to find out.” Was all that Severus had in response to Slughorn. He strode away, in search of more burning potions. He moved up and down each shelf, watching out for the bright red label, as well as any that might be differently packaged. In the span of a minute, he held five different burning potions. He set those aside, next to the other two he’d found, before going out again, this time in search of doxycide. Since doxy’s were a common household pet, there was quite a bit of them lying about. The concerning part was that there weren’t all that many love-potions around, so he would have to use them sparingly. During the search, he did happen to stumble on a small little crate of asphodel flowers. He handed those off to Professor Slughorn without a word.

After a few more minutes of searching, Severus held fourteen bottles of doxycide, and five bottles of the low-grade love potion. He quickly, but carefully, set to work at mixing them adequately. He wasn’t sure how much time they might have. People could burst into the building at any moment, and if they were outnumbered to too large of a degree, then they would quickly die. He made sure to hurry. After a bit more time, he set down six more explosive potions onto the table, next to the one he’d originally made.

“I’ve made six.” He said flatly, moving over to Slughorn. His robes billowed out behind him, giving him the appearance of a bat. “What have you got over here?”  

Horace accepted the asphodel wordlessly. He and Severus made quite the team and if they made it out of here alive, he was quite sure he would have to give him extra credit for his practical demonstration of mastery in the subject of potions. It was incredible, really, the way he was able to improvise and still only a student! Such potential! Severus’ concoctions would be useful no doubt, but Horace was improvising something a bit bigger. Of course, that meant they would only have one shot at executing their escape and they would have to make the most of it. Thankfully, this was not the first escape Horace had orchestrated. Stirring in the last of the ingredients and muttering a few quick charms to help with the reaction considering they didn’t have time to let it brew, Horace stepped back from the cauldron, satisfied with the results.

“It’s my own brew, a sort of confusing concoctions and draught of living death if you would but I’ve added a little extra something to it.” Despite the potential danger just outside of the door, Horace couldn’t help but be a bit excited when he spoke of his potion. “You see, I’ve added in a bit of bouncing spider juice which should help disperse the potion over a wide area. Good for rendering anyone outside of that door unconscious for- oh, half a day at least, and then when they wake up they’ll be utterly confused.” Horace gestured to Severus’ vials. “We’ll use yours to pick off any late comers or lucky individuals who managed to avoid the potion.”

Horace glanced at the door, hearing voices just on the other side. “What do you say, Mr. Snape, time we get back to the castle?”  

She cringed at the words, shrinking back into her chair and ducking her head further. It had been such a mistake to go - she couldn’t have let Ted be there without her though. But she just as surely couldn’t tell Professor Slughorn that her reason for going was to watch the Muggleborn student and wish him luck. Neither could she tell him that she didn’t report it was to protect Ted Tonks. “I don’t know, Professor. I just … I lost my head,” she finally said, shrugging miserably and still staring at her hands. “I didn’t think and I know it was a mistake.”  

Horace sat back in his chair, watching her reaction. He had been teaching for a very, very long time and could easily spot when a student skirted his questions by this point. He was relieved that he didn’t have to explain for the umpteenth time why dueling other students was unacceptable behavior, or why students should stay in bed after hours, but he was curious as to why Andromeda, who knew her actions were wrong, had done them anyway. “Yes, well, we all tend to lose our heads now and then, don’t we? The trick is identifying why.” He didn’t ask again, but it was obvious in the way he didn’t let the topic go that he wasn’t done with it just yet.  

Severus was pleased to see that Slughorn was not as inept as he might look sometimes. His head of house was decent in instruction, but Severus wondered slightly if his ability extended towards dueling. Something about his professor made Severus think that it didn’t, so he kept his wand at the ready, prepared to protect them both, should it be required. He thought of the aftermath, the praise he might receive for protecting a Professor. It was only made him want to get out of here even more.

He followed behind Slughorn, his eyes sliding across different vials of Potions. He considered himself quite lucky to be browsing the stock room. It was where they kept the best Potions. When Slughorn’s back was to him, Severus slid a few select vials into his pockets. They would help with his research, and since there was an attack going on currently, he didn’t very much feel like paying for them. Besides, if the shopkeeper made it out here alive, then Severus considered this due payment. Severus nodded in Slughorn’s direction, but couldn’t help but to roll his eyes at the overly dramatic instructions. As if Severus would ever be foolish enough to set off Potions back here, only inches away from his own skin.

He looked around, eyes straining slightly from the dimness of the room. He spotted two burning Potions, and with a flick of his wand, they were summoned directly into his hands. Just as he’d thought, the majority of offensive Potions were kept back here. He left these on a table in front of him, prepared to use throw them should he need to. In the mean time, however, he grabbed two vials of doxycide. It was another one of his reinventions. He’d discovered that Bundmund Acid reacted strangely when mixed with certain other Potions that carried Pearl Dust. He just had to hope the shop had something containing that. Luckily, he found a low grade love potion on a shelf under his knees. He opened it and wafted the scent carefully into his nose. He wished he could take the time to dissect each ingredient, but guess work would have to do. Severus had always been an exceptionally good guesser.

He dumped them into one vial together, shook it up gently, and then gingerly sat it down on the table. “Be careful near here. There’s a minor explosion in the vial now.” He didn’t offer up any sort of explanation on the technique, nor where he had learned it.  

Horace worked quickly, raiding the shelves for the best ingredients and sorting vials into cauldrons for quick mixing later. A few found his way into his pockets, but those were purely there for easy reach of course. He hardly thought anyone would call it stealing under these circumstances. Should he and Severus escape without having to use them, well, that would be ideal now, wouldn’t it? If there was one thing Horace Slughorn had a talent for other than potion making, it was escaping sticky situations. An old pupil of his had been seeking his assistance in some research for years now and while he somehow managed to track Horace down every so often, Horace had been successful in slipping away each and every time. Such odds were not the result of chance.

Horace glanced over his shoulder at the tiny vial, impressed. Assuming that the potion would do as Severus said, Horace was beginning to feel rather hopeful they would make it out with a damn good story to boot. Normally when his students turned in their potions, he required lengthy explanation of just how they crafted it. Horace had no such time for lengthy explanation and trusted Severus as one of his most advanced students to get the job done. Severus Snape’s methods when it came to potions were unorthodox, but extremely effective. Horace would never admit it but he enjoyed reading Severus’ reports and incorporating some of his methods into his own work now and then.

“Very good. About how many more can you make in the next few minutes?” Setting up his various collections of ingredients on a bench and quickly, though cautiously, mixing a draught of living death in one cauldron and a confusing concoction in another. Of course the real potions would take precious time they didn’t have to waste, so he was improvising and tweaking the properties of the potion as he went along. “If you see any asphodel, give it here. None of that powdered stuff either, the fresher the better.”