I swung my greatsword at Hogwarts

Dumbledore lights his wand, revealing a narrow hallway with an open door to the left.

Harry followed closely behind Dumbledore into the drawing room.

It was a mess, the grandfather clock was broken, the clock face was cracked, and the pendulum flew out.

The piano fell to the ground, and the black and white keys were scattered all over the place.

Fragments of broken chandeliers glistened.

The mat was thrown in a mess and feathers leaked from the mat.

Dumbledore raised his wand higher, illuminating the wall.

A lot of sticky dark red liquid was splashed on it.

The horror made Harry gasp.

Dumbledore looked around, "It's not very pretty, is it?"

He said solemnly: "A horrible incident happened here."

They walked cautiously into the middle of the room, examining the broken pieces at their feet.

Bad feelings linger in the hearts of the two of them.

The only good news is that they didn't find a body anywhere.

"There was a struggle here, and then they dragged the man away, or he ran away, didn't they, Professor?" Harry tried to guess in a good direction.

There's just so much blood splattered, it's not a credential to look for in a good light.

On the ceiling, a drop of thick dark red blood fell on Harry's forehead. Dumbledore seemed to have discovered something, and dipped his finger on the blood on Harry's forehead.

He tasted it with his tongue, his expression changed, and he understood something.

Dumbledore was surprised and worried at the beginning, but now his expression calmed down, and he said, "I don't think so."

As he spoke, Dumbledore silently clenched his old wand tightly in his hand.

Harry asked suspiciously, "You mean he..."

"Still here, yes, that's right."

Before long, the tip of Dumbledore's wand sank into the upholstery of the bulging armchair.

To Harry's surprise, the chair screamed, "Ouch!"

With a smile in his eyes, Dumbledore greeted politely: "Good evening, Horace."

What was originally an armchair turned into a bald, fat old man standing up in the blink of an eye.

The fat old man rubbed his stomach and complained to Dumbledore: "You don't need to stab so hard with your wand."

The fat old man was dressed in a patterned suit, like the armchair.

It turned out that the bulging body of the armchair quickly became shorter and thinner as if deflated.

The fat old man asked puzzledly, "Why did you reveal your secrets?"

"My dear Horace," said Dumbledore, feeling ridiculous, "if something happened to you, there wouldn't be a wall full of dragon blood."

"Yeah, yeah, I should have thought of it," Slughorn said depressedly, "who discovered the twelve uses of dragon's blood, huh..."

As he was talking, Slughorn's voice suddenly stopped, and he saw Harry beside Dumbledore, like a pirate who discovered a treasure.

Dumbledore took everything into his eyes, pretending not to notice, and said normally, "Let me introduce you, this is my old colleague, Horace Slughorn."

"Horace, I think you know who he is."

"Harry Potter," said Slughorn, still looking directly at Harry.

Harry was uncomfortable being seen, he was a little embarrassed and didn't know what expression to make.

"If you don't mind, would you like me to clean it up for you?" said Dumbledore politely.

Slughorn responded, "Please."

Harry watched as Dumbledore waved his wand, and pieces of furniture jumped back into place, and ornaments snapped back into place in midair.

Broken books are automatically repaired and neatly arranged on the bookshelf.

The oil lamp also flew back to the small table to light up.

Under Dumbledore's magic, everything was repaired so that it couldn't be seen as messy.

The blood stains on the wall were automatically wiped clean.

Harry heard the creaking sound and looked down to see a glass pendant of the chandelier under his feet.

He hurriedly moved his foot away, and the glass pendant returned to the chandelier, everything was intact as before.

"Dragon blood is rarely seen in the market recently," Dumbledore said with ease, waving his wand, restoring a fallen bottle, "Where did you get it?"

"Yeah, that's my last bottle, and the current price is astonishingly expensive," Slughorn replied with his heart hanging on Harry, "there are suddenly fewer wild dragons, and there are also fewer dragons in Romania." It happened a few times that the fire dragons escaped."

"This has greatly increased the scarcity of fire dragon blood."

Hearing him say that, Harry recalled seeing it in a newspaper.

Ron's second brother, Charlie, also said that there were fire dragons fleeing in Romania, but they didn't understand that these fire dragons were usually safe.

Charlie Weasley speculated that it might be mating time.

But obviously it doesn't make sense.

Seeing that Slughorn was still staring at Harry, Dumbledore suddenly asked, "Are you hiding from someone, Horace?"

"Come on, Albus, do you really want me to say it?" Slughorn's expression became awkward.

Who else to hide from is naturally his old friend Dumbledore who was robbed of his position.

Dumbledore said as if he couldn't see it: "Can we at least have a drink, for the past time?"

The proposal made Slughorn hesitate for a moment, but he nodded and said, "Okay, just a drink."

Harry didn't understand what their conversation meant.

Though full of doubts, Harry was led to a seat by Dumbledore.

It's just that this position gave Harry a feeling that he seemed to be placed in the most conspicuous place.

Sure enough, Slughorn turned his head again with the bottle and glass, and saw Harry.

Slughorn looked away hastily, and handed the cup stiffly to Dumbledore.

He himself sat on the armchair that had just been repaired.

"How is it, Horace, how are you doing recently?" Dumbledore greeted.

"It's okay," Slughorn replied reluctantly. "I've been worried for the last year, but this situation has been better recently."

Slughorn was not a man of courage, but he was a man of influence.

Knowing that the Death Eaters had reappeared, his heart was indescribably nervous.

Not to mention those things at Hogwarts, Dumbledore resigned as headmaster.

Fortunately, good news came from the Ministry of Magic later.

The death eaters were wiped out, which led to Slughorn agreeing to be headmaster of Hogwarts.

"I swear I didn't intend to take your place, Albus," said Slughorn. "You know I don't like that."

"Yes, of course I know," said Dumbledore calmly, "but I am glad that you are the headmaster's successor."

"Really?" Slughorn wondered.

"Of course it is true. You should understand me too, Horace?" Dumbledore said with a smile on his face. "Perhaps you are troubled by something right now."

"If you're talking about the Defense Against the Dark Arts professor thing, I admit, it is," said Slughorn. "Few people want to take that position."

"The Death Eaters were taken, but their leader is still there."

Slughorn was a little worried about gains and losses, which made Harry dislike the old man's irresponsibility.

"By the way, I haven't introduced it to you yet," Dumbledore said as if he just remembered, "Harry has a very good opinion on Defense Against the Dark Arts, and you should know his achievements."

Harry was suddenly named, a little dumbfounded.

Dumbledore winked playfully at him, stood up suddenly and asked Slughorn, "Can I use your bathroom?"

"Oh, of course, just follow the hall and the second door on the left."

Harry caught Dumbledore winking at him again before leaving.

It's just that the cross-server chat made it difficult for Harry to understand what he meant.

Leaving Harry and Slughorn alone.

The atmosphere was a little dull.

Slughorn looked at Harry and said, "You look a lot like your father."

It's a cliché again, and almost every elder Harry meets will say the same.

"It's just that the eyes are not the same, your eyes..."

Before Slughorn could finish, Harry took over, "Like my mother, yes."

"Lily, lovely Lily," said Slughorn, looking into those eyes, "she's a very intelligent person, all the more so considering she was born into a Muggle family."

"I have a good friend who is also Muggle-born, and her grades are one of the best in the whole year." Harry replied with some dislike.

"No, no, please don't think I'm biased," Slughorn said hastily. "Your mother has always been one of my favorite students. I often tell her that she should be in my college."

When mentioning this matter, Slughorn was not angry, but smiled a little, "I often get very rude answers from her."

"Which house are you in?" Harry asked.

"I was Head of Slytherin," said Slughorn.

Hearing about that academy made Harry look a little unhappy.

"Oh, come on," Slughorn knew what Harry was thinking, "don't be hostile to me because of this, I think, you must be like her, a Gryffindor?"

With a smug smile on his face, he pointed to the many shiny photo frames on the cabinet, each with a moving figure.

"Look, your mother is over there, the one in front."

Harry moved closer, with Slughorn standing beside him.

He saw a picture of his mother, standing next to a younger Slughorn, surrounded by a group of students.

Slughorn seemed to be introducing the collection to him, and said proudly: "You should know Barnabas Guffey, he is the editor of the "Daily Prophet", and I always let the owl convey my views on the current situation." give him."

"But in recent years, he's been overtaken by another editor, and to be honest, I didn't expect Rita to be in the editor's seat. She used to like to spread some gossip in school." Slughorn said.

Harry listened to his introduction, looking away from the picture of his mother.

The captain of the Holyhead Harpies, Gwenog Jones.

Also the owner of the Honeydukes Candy Shop, and Sirius' younger brother, Regulus Black.

Slughorn also regrettably stated that he taught everyone in the Black family, except Sirius.

On the cabinet where the photos were placed, there was a special basket for letters. Harry asked curiously, "What is that?"

Slughorn kept talking about his students, and when he heard the question, he subconsciously said, "That's a letter from John Wick, he can often ask some tricky questions, I need to think about it Only then can I give him an answer, he is really a very smart person."

"It's the same for him at school," Harry said in a very complicated mood without knowing what to say, "He has always been No.1 and has never been surpassed."

When mentioning this incident, Slughorn reacted belatedly, and said in surprise: "My God, I just remembered that you are in the same grade as him."

Although he didn't teach John Wick, Slughorn felt that even the letter with the other party was an honor, and he put it on the cabinet of honor.

Harry smiled reluctantly, keeping his eyes on the few letters he had received.

Not knowing what John and Slughorn were talking about, it would take a long time for anyone who Dumbledore called to be very smart to answer.

...