Chapter 53 - Half-Blood Prince

        School was going to start again in a few days. It was a nice, late night in London. Harry and I had taken the tube to a cafe we had visited a few times. My suspicion for our constant visiting was that Harry fancied the waitress who was usually working at the particular cafe, but every time I'd ask, he denied it. We had been out of the house as much as possible during the past summer, trying to keep our minds off everything we had to worry about. While Harry read the paper with his coffee, I read a book, not wanting to think about what the press was saying, especially about the Malfoy family and the trial. But the headlines didn't escape my sight: BRIDGE COLLAPSE: DEATH TOLL RISES, and of course, HARRY AND ELLA POTTER: THE CHOSEN ONES?

While reading, I tried to block out the man's voice from the radio, but I was having trouble, eventually taking a sip from my hot chocolate as I listened to the man,

"Millenium-breaking disaster... All river traffic has been halted, and police divers search for survivors. Surrounding area remains closed. The man, known to..."

"I'm going to the loo," I suddenly said, giving my brother a reassuring smile that I'd be fine before walking away from our table. As I headed toward the toilets, the waitress I had noticed eyeing my twin passed me on her way to our table. I gave her a kind smile when she glanced at me, secretly hoping she would ask my brother out. It would do Harry some good.

Just as I came out of the loo, I heard the beautiful waitress tell my brother,

"Eleven. That's when I get off. You can tell me all about that tosser Harry Potter."

The waitress smiled at me as she walked back over to the counter. When I sat back down beside my brother, I teased,

"Shall I stay here and join you two? Ensure nothing untoward happens to the 'tosser' that is Harry Potter?"

Harry quietly laughed and shook his head as he took the packet of breath mints I offered him, already knowing he would ask for them. As my twin popped two mints into his mouth, I looked around the cafe with a smile, just glancing at my surroundings, when I suddenly noticed a light flickering on the platform on the other side of the tracks. My brother seemed to notice as well, both of us getting a strange feeling, as we stood up at the same time, walking over to the window. A train suddenly passed, but as soon as it was gone, Harry and I shared a light smile at the sight of Professor Dumbledore. Knowing he was here to see us for a reason, Harry and I quickly left the cafe and went over to get to the other platform, where we found Dumbledore looking at the perfume ad on the wall. As we stepped up to his side, Dumbledore noted,

"You've both been reckless this summer, Ella and Harry."

"We like riding around the trains," Harry replied before I added,

"It takes our minds off things."

Dumbledore nodded with a small smile, understanding. When I noticed his left hand looking black, I furrowed my brows. Seeing the concern on my face, Dumbledore casually brushed the state of his hand off,

"Rather unpleasant to be old, isn't it? The tale is thrilling, if I say so myself. But now is not the time to tell it. Take my arm."

Harry and I shared a confused look, wondering why Dumbledore was offering us his arm, but before we could question him, or before Harry could protest and mention his date, the headmaster insisted, "Do as I say."

Knowing we weren't getting out of this, Harry and I did as Dumbledore asked. As soon as our hands touched Dumbledore's arm, I let out a scream as I felt my body warp and move in an uncomfortable and sickening way before it suddenly stopped. Taking deep breaths, I noticed we had been transported to a neighbour. Realizing what just happened, Harry confirmed,

"We just Apparated, didn't we?"

"Indeed," Dumbledore answered, noting, "Quite successfully, too, I might add. Most people vomit the first time."

"Can't imagine why," I sarcastically replied, feeling like my stomach had been knocked out of place. As Harry and I took a moment to let our bodies adjust, Dumbledore turned and started down the street. My brother and I were quick to follow, stepping up to walk beside the professor as he introduced where we were,

"Welcome to the charming village of Budleigh Babberton. Harry, Ella, I assume right about now you must be wondering... why I brought you here? Am I right?"

As we stopped in front of a large house with an open gate leading into the front garden, I answered Dumbledore's question with a smile,

"Actually, sir, after all these years, we just, sort of, go with it."

Dumbledore didn't reply, simply turning to examine the house's open door. As he pulled out his own wand, the professor instructed,

"Wands on, Ella and Harry."

Harry and I did as we were told before following Dumbledore as he entered the house, all three of us using our wands to illuminate our path. It was eerily quiet, aside from the quiet ticking of what I assumed was a grandfather clock. The house was a mess. Furniture was ruined, things were torn apart, and picture frames were either off-centre or had been knocked to the floor. I was worried for whoever lived here as we looked around. "Horace?" Dumbledore whisper-yelled, and I assumed that was the person we were hoping to find in this mess. "Horace?"

We eventually walked into the living room, which seemed to be in one of the worst states compared to the front rooms of the house. Harry and I stepped into the middle, taking note of the Daily Prophet that was on the floor, along with broken dishes and crystals from a chandelier. As we started at the moving picture of us on the newspaper, something dripped from the ceiling and onto the floor. Curious, Harry and I raised our wands and looked up, noticing a crack in the ceiling as something red dripped through the wood planks. Whatever the liquid was dripped onto Harry's forehead. I went to touch it, to see what it was, but Dumbledore had come over to us and stopped me, gently moving my hand away. I watched as the professor gently pressed his finger on Harry's forehead where the substance had landed before lightly touching his tongue and tasting it. Harry and I shared yet another confused look before I quietly gasped at the sound of something creaking across the room. Dumbledore raised his finger to his mouth, reminding me to stay quiet before he cautiously walked over to where the sound had come from. Like the rest of the house, this part was in shambles, everything torn apart, broken or disfigured except for a light blue armchair. Curious, Dumbledore used his wand to poke the head of the chair, causing a head to pop out as the man cried suddenly,

"Merlin's beard!"

Out of nowhere, the couch turned into a fully normal man in a light blue robe as he scolded Dumbledore, "No need to disfigure me, Albus."

"Well, I must say you made a very convincing armchair, Horace," Dumbledore smiled. As the man deflated his pant legs, he replied,

"It's all in the upholstery. I come by this stuffing naturally. What gave me away?"

Dumbledore pointed to the ceiling with his wand before answering,

"Dragon's blood."

"Oh," the man said, taking notice of me and my brother standing behind Dumbledore, who moved out of the way to speak to us,

"Oh yes, introductions. Harry and Ella, I'd like you to meet an old friend and colleague of mine: Horace Slughorn. Horace... Well, you know who these two are."

"Harry and Ella Potter."

I tried to give a small smile, but I was very confused about what was happening, so Harry and I stood there awkwardly as the two wizards had a conversation.

"So what's with all the theatrics, Horace... You weren't, by any chance, waiting for someone else, were you?" Dumbledore asked.

"Someone else? I'm sure I don't know what you mean..." Slughorn furrowed his brows before admitting, "Alright. The Death Eaters have been trying to recruit me for over a year. Do you know what's that like? You can only say 'no' to these people so many times. So I never stay anywhere more than a week. The Muggles who own this place are in the Canary Islands."

I felt bad for Mr Slughorn, trying to imagine how horrid it would be to have Death Eaters trying to get you to join them all the time. With a smile, Dumbledore offered,

"Well, I think we should put it back in order for them, don't you?"

"Yes."

"Fine."

With a wave of his wand, all of the broken furniture, decorations and parts of the ceiling and walls flew back into place. Lamps turned on, lighting up the room, making me smile with wonder, loving magic. As everything was trying to make its way to its rightful place, a plate almost hit me in the head, but Harry was quick to move me toward him and out of the way. My smile didn't falter, watching as the last piece of the chandelier that was stuck under Harry's foot flew into place. Harry and I smiled at one another before turning to Dumbledore, who grinned, "That was fun. Do you mind if I use the loo?"

"No, of course," Mr Slughorn nodded before calling out after Dumbledore, who made his way into the bathroom, "Don't think I don't know why you're here, Albus. The answer is still no. Absolutely, and unequivanetly, no."

Being left in a room with a man we didn't know, Harry and I felt awkward as Slughorn smiled before noting, "You're very like your father. Except the eyes, of course. You have your-"

"Our mother's eyes, yeah," Harry spoke up with a polite smile.

"Lily, lovely Lily. She's exceedingly bright, your mother. Even more impressive even when one could say that she was Muggle-born."

"One of our best friends is Muggle-born," I told the man, feeling mildly defensive as I explained, "She's the best in our year."

Noticing my displeasure in his statement, Slughorn shook his head,

"Oh, please don't think I'm prejudiced. No, no, no. Your mother was one of my absolute favourites. Look, there she is. Right at the front."

Harry and I turned to look at the shelf Slughorn had gestured to, looking at the rows of moving pictures of him with groups of what seemed to be students. As he stepped up beside me, Slughorn smiled proudly, "All mine. Each and every one. Ex-students, I mean."

I admired the picture of my mother raising her glass with a big smile. She looked beautiful. Slughorn pointed to one of the other pictures, "You recognise Barnabas Cuffe? Editor of the Daily Prophet. Always takes my owl should I wish to register an opinion on the news of the day. Gwenog Jones, captain of the Holyhead Harpies. Free tickets whenever I want them. Of course, I haven't been to a match in some time."

Having noticed one of the other pictures, Harry picked up the frame to get a better look at the moving picture and I realised why when I noticed how similar the student standing next to Slughorn looked compared to Sirius... "Ah, yes! Regulus Black. You, no doubt, know of his older brother Sirius, who died a few weeks ago. I taught the whole Black family, except Sirius. It's a shame. A talented boy. I got Regulus when he came along, of course, but... but I'd of liked the set."

I barely listened to what the man was saying as I thought of my godfather, feeling like my heart was breaking all over again. It had been two months, but the pain hadn't gotten any easier to handle.

"Horace!" Dumbledore suddenly called out, stepping out of the loo holding a magazine, "Do you mind if I take this? I do love knitting patterns."

Feeling awkward, Harry and I quickly went over to stand with our professor as Slughorn frowned,

"Yes, of course, but you're not leaving, are you?"

"Oh, I think I know a lost cause when I see one. Regrettable, I would have considered it a very personal triumph if you consented to return to Hogwarts. Ah well, you're like my friends Mr and Miss Potter here. One of a kind. Or two of a kind, shall I say. Well, bye-bye Horace."

With that, Dumbledore walked toward the door and out of the house toward the gate. I was confused, not understanding why Dumbledore had brought us here if he was just going to leave. But before I could ask, Slughorn suddenly opened the door and agreed,

"Alright. I'll do it. But I want Professor Merrythought's old office, not the water closet I had before. And I expect a raise. These are mad times we're living, mad!"

"They are, indeed," Dumbledore said to me and Harry before humming as he turned to walk down the street. Sharing what felt like the millionth confused look tonight, the two of us quickly followed Professor Dumbledore before Harry questioned,

"Sir, exactly what was all that about?"

"You are both talented, famous and powerful. Everything Horace values. Professor Slughorn's going to try to collect you, Harry and Ella. You would be his crowning jewels. That's why he's returning to Hogwarts. And it's crucial he should return."

I turned to my brother with furrowed brows but neither of us pushed any further, simply accepting Dumbledore's explanation for the time being. As we reached the area we had first arrived in, Dumbledore apologized, "I fear I may have stolen a wondrous night from you, Harry. She was, truthfully... very pretty. The girl."

"It's alright, sir. I'll go back tomorrow, make some excuse," Harry smiled, but Dumbledore shook his head,

"Oh, you'll not be returning to Little Whinging tonight, Harry."

Puzzled, I asked,

"But, Sir- What about Hedwig? And our trunks?"

"Both are waiting for you," Dumbledore replied, offering me and Harry his arm once again. Taking a second to prepare ourselves for what we knew was coming this time, Harry and I took a deep breath before grabbing the headmaster's arm. We apparated until Harry and I landed in a shallow body of water. Dumbledore nowhere to be seen. I groaned as Harry and I helped each other up, trying to figure out where we were as we stepped out of the water before seeing the familiar sight of the tall Weasley home. The two of us smiled, happy to be able to see our friends, before making our way to the door. As we made our way to the door, we could hear murmurs of a conversation inside the house. I shared a smile with my twin as we opened the door to see Hedwig inside with our trunks and heard Ginny say,

"You haven't seen them, have you? Apparently, they're wandering about the house."

"Really?" I heard Hermione question, so Harry and I loudly answered,

"Really."

"Harry! Ella!" I heard Mrs Weasley excitedly say, followed by the sounds of footsteps descending the staircase. Ginny appeared around the corner, smiling as she hugged me first, then Harry. My twin and the youngest Weasley shared an awkward smile as they pulled away. I raised my brow, intrigued by their interaction, before turning my attention to Hermione as she came over to pull Harry and me into a hug at the same time,

"Harry. Ella."

Ron and Eric were next as Mrs Weasley smiled,

"What a lovely surprise!"

The warm woman happily laughed as she gave us a hug as well, asking as she pulled away, "Why didn't you let us know you were coming?"

"We didn't know," Harry shrugged before I finished,

"Dumbledore."

"Oh, that man! But then what would we do without him?" Mrs Weasley smiled as I furrowed my brows at seeing Ron slowly point and move his finger toward Hermione's face. Everyone followed my eyes, turning to look at Ron before he explained, telling Hermione,

"Got a bit of... toothpaste."

Hermione awkwardly chuckled, quickly wiping her cheek. After thanking Mrs Weasley for her hospitality and ensuring her we wouldn't need her to make anything for us to eat until morning, Ron, Eric and Hermione led Harry and me upstairs. After sitting down and having a quick conversation about everyone's summer, the Daily Prophet, where Dumbledore had taken us, and when Eric had gotten to the Weasley household, Harry asked Hermione,

"So, when did you get here?"

"A few days ago," Hermione shrugged before she frowned, "All though, for a while, I wasn't sure I was coming."

Seeing Harry's and my furrowed brows, Ron explained,

"Mum... sort of lost it, last week. Said Ginny and I have no business going back to Hogwarts. It's too dangerous."

"Oh, come on," Harry protested, but Hermione shook her head,

"She's not alone. Even my parents, they're Muggles, know something bad's happening."

Ron shrugged,

"Anyway, Dad stepped in. Told us she was being barmy and... Took a few days, but she came around."

"But, this is Hogwarts we're talking about," I spoke up, "It's Dumbledore. What could be safer?"

Eric frowned, gently arguing,

"There's been a lot of talk recently that... Dumbledore's got a bit old."

"What rubbish! Well, he's only..." Harry trailed off, asking, "How old is he?"

"150? Give or take a few years?" Eric guessed, making us all laugh.