Ludo had other pressing work to complete before tomorrow's task and didn't chat long with Adrian and Slughorn, excusing himself with a hurried wave and jogging back toward the castle with his typical lack of grace.
As soon as Bagman was out of hearing distance, Slughorn keenly picked up on the key, concerning information buried in Adrian's earlier words.
"Barty Crouch Sr. has disappeared?" He asked with alarm, his jovial expression fading to something more serious. "What does that mean, exactly? Disappeared how? That's a rather ominous word choice."
"A crazed Death Eater killed him," Adrian said casually, as though discussing the weather rather than murder, stating the brutal truth without embellishment.
Slughorn stopped dead in his tracks, his fat body swaying slightly with the sudden pause. His eyes widened intensely behind the frames. "You're joking, right? Surely, you're joking. That's... that's absolutely terrible if true."
"Consider it so, if you like," Adrian shrugged with apparent indifference. "I'm simply telling you what happened."
"This is no laughing matter at all, my boy," Slughorn said, his ruddy face draining of color until he looked almost pale in the darkness. "Death Eaters actively operating again, murdering Ministry officials... He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named is coming back, isn't he? That's what this means. The war is starting again."
His voice had dropped to a worried whisper, and his eyes darted around as though Death Eaters might be lurking in the nearby shadows.
"I believe Professor Dumbledore should have already warned you about this in his letter," Adrian said with thoughtful calm, keeping his tone even. "It won't be long now before the truth becomes undeniable to everyone. Months at most, possibly weeks."
Slughorn fell into troubled silence, his usual cheerful demeanor had completely vanished.
His mind was clearly racing through implications—where he should hide, who might come looking for him, whether his carefully cultivated neutrality would be respected by both sides.
The two continued walking and soon passed through the massive entrance hall with its grand staircases and entered the Great Hall, where the evening meal was well underway.
The familiar sounds of hundreds of students eating and talking created a warm buzz of normalcy that seemed at odds with their serious conversation.
Slughorn moved through the space as if returning to his own home after a long absence. He made his way directly to the seat furthest in at the staff table which had been his usual habit from over a dozen years ago. Apparently, old preferences died hard.
He cheerfully pulled over a large plate of steak, still steaming slightly, and began cutting into it. He appeared to have completely set aside the heavy, disturbing topic from just moments before.
Adrian wasn't particularly worried about Slughorn's tendency to avoid unpleasant realities.
After all, it wouldn't be very long before everyone would be forced to face reality whether they wanted to or not.
During the meal, Slughorn suddenly remembered something important. His eyes lit up with recollection.
"Oh yes!" He quickly wiped the corner of his mouth with his napkin and asked, "Dumbledore also mentioned something specific in his letter—that you need my help with some matter. What's happened? What can I do for you?"
Adrian naturally hadn't forgotten his real purpose in seeking out his old professor through Dumbledore.
He got straight to the point without dancing around the issue. "For certain special reasons, I currently need a substantial quantity of Felix Felicis."
At this direct request, Slughorn nodded thoughtfully, his expression shifting to one of understanding rather than surprise. His eyes took on a calculating gleam.
"Felix Felicis!" He said with knowing emphasis. "Ah yes, sometimes we do indeed need a little luck to get through difficult situations."
He paused, then continued almost cheerfully: "Oh, wait just a moment—carrying some Felix Felicis with you at all times is a good habit I've had for years. Never know when you might need it."
With that casual statement, he reached into his robes and retrieved a small crystal vial from some pocket, placing it on the table between them with a soft clink against the wood.
Adrian's gaze fell immediately on the small bottle, where the golden liquid shimmered enticingly in the flickering candlelight from the floating candles above.
The fact that Slughorn had so readily produced genuine Felix Felicis from his person without hesitation, this was somewhat beyond Adrian's initial expectations. He'd anticipated more negotiation.
"Professor," Adrian asked directly, preferring honesty over games, "what must I give in return?"
Slughorn was in the process of cutting another piece of his steak. At the straightforward question, he looked up, and a sly glint appeared in his eyes.
"Oh, don't be so serious and transactional, my boy!" He said with a wide smile that crinkled his entire face. "It's just a small vial of Felix Felicis. It's nothing particularly precious to me—I'm giving it to you as a gift, no strings attached."
Indeed, as he said, though Felix Felicis was extraordinarily precious and expensive in the outside world, fetching hundreds of Galleons per dose on the black market, it wasn't so excessively rare for someone like Slughorn. His comfortable retirement gave him ample free time to brew this tedious, six-month-long potion repeatedly, building up a large personal stock.
"But..." Adrian showed an awkward expression. "I may need substantially more Felix Felicis than one vial."
"More Felix Felicis?" Slughorn was visibly startled, his eyebrows rising. His jovial expression shifted to something more concerned and serious.
Then he said earnestly, his voice taking on a lecturing tone: "This isn't a potion to be used carelessly or in large quantities, Adrian. Excessive consumption of Felix Felicis can have very serious long-term consequences. The effects are far beyond your imagination, I assure you."
Rather than explain verbally, Adrian simply rolled up his left sleeve, revealing the ominous skull and serpent symbol with its silver binding chains on his forearm.
The curse mark wriggled slightly in the candlelight, as though aware of being observed.
"I'm under a powerful curse," he explained briefly, his tone unemotional. "According to my calculations and the information I've gathered, it will require a large amount of Felix Felicis to properly treat and break. The curse consumes luck, basically."
Slughorn looked at the curse mark intently, his pupils contracting slightly with shock.
He stared intently at Adrian's exposed arm for a long while. Finally, he sighed heavily. "Very intricate work. Very dark. This is... old magic. Life-sacrifice curse, if I'm not mistaken."
Clearly, the well-informed man had quickly discerned the essential nature of it from visual examination alone.
"But—" Slughorn changed tack. "How much Felix Felicis do you actually need for treatment?"
Adrian thought for a moment, then used a comparison everyone could easily understand and visualize.
"About one large glass of butterbeer's worth," He said calmly, as though requesting something perfectly reasonable. "Perhaps slightly less, but that's the rough volume."
Slughorn's bushy eyebrows nearly flew off his face into his sparse hairline.
"A glass of butterbeer?!" He exclaimed, though he kept his voice lowered to avoid drawing attention from nearby students. "That's nearly a full pint!"
"Actually, I've already brewed a substantial portion of what I need myself," Adrian nodded, reaching into his own pocket and producing an extra-large crystal bottle and gently placing it on the dining table.
The golden liquid inside swayed gently with the movement, catching the light and looking almost like half a glass of the most tempting pumpkin juice imaginable.
Slughorn's prominent eyes went perfectly round, bulging even further with shock.
"Merlin's beard!" He exclaimed with genuine astonishment, leaning forward to examine the bottle more closely. "You can actually brew Felix Felicis successfully? You have the skill? At your age?"
"Yes," Adrian replied casually, as if this were a completely trivial matter. "I learned the technique several years ago. The success rate isn't perfect, maybe one in seven batches succeeds but I manage."
Slughorn's shock was completely understandable and justified. Potion Masters in Britain who could successfully brew this notoriously difficult potion could be counted on one hand—there were perhaps five people total with that level of skill. It was considered one of the pinnacles of potion-making achievement.
"Remarkable," Slughorn said slowly, a bright smile spreading across his face. His expression shifted from shock to something more calculating but also impressed. "Truly remarkable. You were always talented, but this... this is exceptional."
He paused. "But if it's this quantity you need... I can't simply give it to you for free. That would be poor business, and I'm not a wealthy man anymore."
"Of course not," Adrian agreed immediately, actually breathing a sigh of relief.
This statement meant that Slughorn definitely had enough Felix Felicis in his personal stock to fill Adrian's crystal bottle otherwise he would have said it was impossible outright.
"I can purchase it at double the current market price," Adrian proposed generously, knowing the value. "Or triple, if necessary. Whatever you think is fair."
Slughorn's brow smoothed at this offer, though his eyes still held a distinct measure of shrewd calculation. He was clearly considering various options.
"That's unnecessary, Adrian," He finally said after a moment's thought. "I have a better proposal, one that benefits us both."
He leaned forward. "How about this instead—I can 'lend' you the Felix Felicis you need now, free of charge. And in return, in two and a half years' time when you've had opportunity to brew more, you'll need to give me a fresh batch of equivalent quantity."
"Thank you for your generosity, Professor Slughorn," Adrian said with genuine gratitude, feeling considerable relief wash over him.
He breathed a long, deep sigh of relief. "That's plenty of time to brew multiple batches."
Seeing Adrian's genuine reaction and lack of hesitation, Slughorn determined with satisfaction that what the young man had said was absolutely true—Adrian truly possessed the ability to brew Felix Felicis successfully and wasn't bluffing or exaggerating.
This made the arrangement even better from Slughorn's perspective.
He stroked his thick beard contentedly, his eyes narrowing to satisfied slits. "Then it's settled, my boy. When I return to my current residence after the tournament, I'll have the Felix Felicis sent over to you."
"There's no need to trouble yourself—I can come collect it myself in person," Adrian offered
"Oh, that might not work," Slughorn said with a wink. "You see, perhaps I'll be moving to a new location the day after tomorrow. Who knows?"
Adrian immediately understood his underlying meaning—Slughorn didn't want anyone, even someone he liked, to know his permanent residence or track his movements.
"I understand. Thank you again for your help, Professor."
Adrian and Slughorn's negotiation and conversation proved to be most pleasant overall.
Now, the curse problem was essentially resolved.
Dumbledore arrived in the Great Hall somewhat hurriedly just as the two were finishing their dinner. He looked travel-worn and tired, with dust on his robes.
"Has the problem been solved satisfactorily, Professor Westeros?" He asked Adrian directly.
"Very smoothly indeed," Adrian answered truthfully with a slight smile. "Professor Slughorn has been most generous with both his time and his resources. I'm in his debt."
Slughorn, seeing Dumbledore's travel-worn appearance asked curiously: "Where have you been today, Professor Dumbledore? Come to think of it, you specifically invited me here as your personal guest, but you've been nowhere to be seen since I arrived. Most mysterious."
"Ah, my sincere apologies, Horace," Dumbledore said with genuine regret, spreading his hands apologetically. "There's simply too much to do these days, too many fires to put out. Sometimes even I find that one person truly can't manage it all, no matter how one tries."
"Indeed, Professor McGonagall thinks exactly the same thing," Adrian muttered quietly. "She's been saying so for years."
"Because of organizing the Triwizard Tournament?" Slughorn asked, accepting the explanation. "That must be tremendously complicated."
Dumbledore nodded slightly, though his expression suggested there was more to it. "Among other things, yes. Come to my office, Horace. We still have plenty of time to catch up properly this evening over some tea and lemon drops. I have much to discuss with you. Goodbye for now, Professor Westeros."
After exchanging polite farewells and standing to leave, the two older wizards departed the Great Hall together, their voices fading as they discussed old times.
Adrian shrugged and continued enjoying his dinner in peace at his seat, feeling considerably lighter now that the Felix Felicis problem was solved.
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