Dumbledore studied Horace Slughorn in the quiet of the living room. His old colleague, once a fellow teacher at Hogwarts and a confidant in countless experiments, now sat across from him, a lifetime of memories and a decade of silence pressing between them. Their friendship had been close once, forged through years of teaching and shared ambition, but a single incident had strained it, leaving Dumbledore without news of Horace for more than ten years. And now, after all that time, he was here again, looking at him.
"I just came to see an old friend," Dumbledore said softly, a faint sigh escaping him. "I wanted to talk… about the old days."
Horace's expression hardened, eyes sharp. "Don't play with words, Albus," he said. "You never visit someone without needing something or wanting something."
Dumbledore's lips curved into a playful smile. "Ah, you know me well, Horace. Fine—I admit it. I've come with a request."
Before he could finish, Horace cut him off, his voice cold and firm. "No. Absolutely not. I won't agree, Albus. Last time I honored one of your requests, I paid a heavy price. Whatever it is, I don't want to hear it."
Dumbledore's smile faded, replaced by a look of quiet concern. "Come now, Horace. Hogwarts needs you. The students need you. You're still young, full of energy. Come back, teach again."
Horace's jaw tightened. "Absolutely not. I've retired, Albus. That place has hurt me too many times. I will not set foot in that cursed school again."
"Calm down," Dumbledore said gently, his eyes steady. "You shouldn't speak ill of the school you love. You know, as well as I do, that you love it madly."
Horace exhaled, his shoulders sagging. "I'm sorry, Albus. I got emotional. I didn't mean any disrespect to Hogwarts… but you know the memories I have, especially from the last Wizarding War."
"I understand," Dumbledore replied. "Truly. Don't let it sadden you."
Horace's voice softened, steadier now. "Albus… I cherish my comforts. I want to spend my time with my granddaughter, teach her the knowledge of the Slughorn family's potion craft, and live quietly. That's all I want. I cannot, and will not, return to Hogwarts. I'm sorry."
Dumbledore's expression shifted, a twinkle returning to his eyes. "Ah, Cela. She is remarkable. I've read her papers in The Practical Potioneer. Informative, insightful… even your former student, Severus Snape, praised her work," (No he didn't a person like Sanpe would never ever praise someone)he added smoothly, though it wasn't true. "She's talented, Horace."
Horace smiled proudly. "Of course she is. She's a Slughorn—potion-making runs in our blood."
"But why not send her to Hogwarts?" Dumbledore asked, his tone gentle but insistent. "Her talent is wasted here."
Horace's got defensive as his expression darkened. "Absolutely not. She has learned more with me than she ever could there."
Dumbledore sighed. "Did you ask her opinion? Did you ever ask if she wants to go?"
Horace said nothing, and Dumbledore got his answer from his friend's silence.
"You know, Horace… what you're doing is wrong. Even for someone who spent most of their life teaching at Hogwarts and knows kids and teenagers more than anyone, even you cannot disregard her wishes. She's grown up isolated from peers, from life in a school of her age… You've kept her in a cage, blind to the consequences of your actions. One day, she may resent you for it."
Horace's jaw tightened, voice shaking. "She won't. She isn't that kind of girl. She'll never hate her grandfather."
Dumbledore shook his head slightly. "She might not—but do you have the right to take her best years away? Horace, this is wrong."
"No," Horace said, almost in a whisper, his voice breaking. "I just want to protect her. I don't want her to become like her mother, Albus. Everything I do is to keep her safe—from Hogwarts, from… everything."
"Hogwarts is safe," Dumbledore said calmly.
Horace's eyes widened, disbelief coloring his tone. "Safe you say? Two years ago, a dark wizard disguised himself as a professor, last year six students petrified by a basilisk… Safe? You expect me to send my only remaining family to that abomination of a school?"
Dumbledore raised his hands, patient. "I understand your fear, Horace. The past years have been rough, but Hogwarts is still the safest place in the world."
Horace's shoulders slumped. "I'm sorry, Albus. But I will not send her there. And I will not go back either."
"You're doing her a great injustice, Horace. That's not who you are," Dumbledore said softly.
"I think it's time for you to go," Horace said, a note of finality in his voice. "I'll be having guests soon. They'd be suspicious if they saw you here in… this weird costume."
Dumbledore rose, a faint smile on his lips. "I still insist—but it's your choice. I'll leave for today. When the time comes, you will understand that what is right and what is wrong."
He turned and left the living room, the soft click of the door echoing in the silence.
Horace sank back into the armchair, staring at the blank screen of the television. His mind was a whirlwind of thoughts, memories, and quiet determination.