Harry Potter and the Secret Treasures

Chapter 1272: Slug Club

In the compartment, a huge round table was transformed and everyone was sitting around it.

“Good to see you, good to see you!” said Slughorn enthusiastically, his eyes sweeping over the group one by one, “So, you must be Mr. Longbottom? Ah, then this lovely lady must be Elaine, a descendant of the Slytherin family. It’s such an honor to have you here. You know, I myself graduated from Slytherin House and was even Head of that House for a time. I love that House, and I greatly admire your ancestor, Salazar Slytherin…”

Under his gaze, Neville nodded, looking scared.

Elaine looked up at Slughorn before saying, “I’m currently in Gryffindor.”

“That’s Slytherin’s loss, isn’t it?” said Slughorn regretfully, without the slightest hint of embarrassment at Elaine’s response.

At a gesture from Slughorn, they sat down in the only five empty seats.

Evan carefully looked around at the people Slughorn had invited. There weren’t many — fewer than ten.

More than half of them were from Slytherin House. For some reason, they had caught Slughorn’s eye, but all of them were quietly moving their chairs to edge away from the group of five, except for one person who was actually moving closer: Ginny. She had been squashed in the corner beside Slughorn and looked as though she was not entirely sure how she had got there.

“Ginny!” Hermione called out, motioning for her to come sit over.

Zabini did not make any sign of recognition or greeting, nor did Harry or Neville.

Hermione, Elaine and Ginny huddled together, whispering, completely ignoring Slughorn’s introduction. They, of course, knew who Zabini was, but from any standpoint, none of them wanted to engage with him.

This tall black boy was a student from Slytherin House, and he seemed to have a good relationship with Malfoy.

Though he wasn’t part of Malfoy’s small group, he had often been involved in fights with Gryffindor over the past few years.

And, to some extent, Zabini was well-known in the school.

His fame came from his famous mother, who was simply a real-life version of the Black Widow.

Mrs. Zabini was a very beautiful and famous witch. She often appeared in newspapers and magazines, and her dress style set the trend in the Wizarding World. But what people talked about more was her private life. She had been married seven times, each of her husbands dying mysteriously and leaving her mounds of gold.

Despite this, there were still many wealthy wizards willing to marry her.

Although she was no longer young, had been married so many times, had a child, and was subject to so many terrible rumors, she was still like a flame in the darkness, attracting many wizards like moths to her.

Seeing Zabini and thinking about the rumors surrounding his mother, Evan was reminded of something important.

The real Black Widow, the infamous Dark witch Natalia, a high-ranking member of Raven’s Claw, had always kept her whereabouts a secret. It seemed she still didn’t know that her last husband had been killed by Evan. If she found out, there’d be no reason for her not to seek revenge on Evan — or perhaps she was already looking for an opportunity…

Those kinds of Dark wizards or witches, hidden in the shadows, were the truly troublesome ones.

Including this time at the Egyptian Ruins of Amun Ra, Evan had disrupted Raven’s Claw’s plans twice in a row. They must loathe him to the core now.

And then there was Sirius, who had set off for France and Italy to combat Raven’s Claw, and no one had any idea how that was progressing.  

Since he left Britain in early August, Sirius hadn’t sent any letters back…

“This is Cormac McLaggen, and this one…” Slughorn introduced each one, then said, “Well now, this is most pleasant. Let’s get to lunch. You must be starving, and we can’t spend all this time on introductions. Relax, children, don’t be so nervous. This is just a chance to get to know you all a little better. Here, take a napkin. I’ve packed my own lunch; the trolley, as I remember it, is heavy on licorice wands, and a poor old man’s digestive system isn’t quite up to such things. … Help yourselves… Pheasant, Belby?”

Marcus Belby was a thin, nervous boy who looked as nervous as Neville.

At Slughorn’s words, Belby appeared startled and quickly raised his plate to accept what looked like half of a cold pheasant.

“I was just telling young Marcus here that I had the pleasure of teaching his uncle Damocles,” Slughorn told Evan and Harry, now passing a basket of rolls. “Outstanding wizard, outstanding, and his Order of Merlin most well-deserved. Do you see much of your uncle, Marcus?”

Unfortunately, Belby had just taken a large mouthful of pheasant; in his haste to answer Slughorn he swallowed too fast, turned purple, and began to choke.

“Anapneo,” said Slughorn calmly, pointing his wand at Belby, whose airway seemed to clear at once.

“Not … not much of him, no,” gasped Belby, his eyes streaming.

“Well, of course, I daresay he’s busy,” said Slughorn, looking questioningly at Belby. “I doubt he invented the Wolfsbane Potion without considerable hard work!”

“I suppose …” said Belby, who seemed afraid to take another bite of pheasant until he was sure that Slughorn had finished with him. “Er … for sure, but he and my dad don’t get on very well, you see, so I don’t really know much about…”

Poor guy, he shouldn’t have said that in front of Slughorn.

Sure enough, Belby’s voice tailed away as Slughorn gave him a cold smile and turned to McLaggen instead.

Evan curled his lips, this was one of the main reasons he didn’t particularly like Slughorn.

He handed the rolls to Hermione, thinking it was better to finish eating quickly and leave.

He didn’t want to spend the entire afternoon here being pointlessly questioned by Slughorn.

Though, to be honest, the food Slughorn had prepared was much better than what was offered on the train.

The only one who was dissatisfied with the food on the table was Elaine. She frowned at the dishes, which was obviously not to her taste.

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