The Four Swords of Hogwarts

Chapter 8: Failing Magic

When Seamus Finnigan's potion exploded, hardly anyone even batted an eye except Slughorn. All the students had become accustomed to explosions when in a classroom with Seamus, so this time was nothing new. Harry and Ron chuckled while Hermione rolled her eyes and shook her head. Harry turned his attention back to chopping his valerian root. His technique was still pretty rough, but he was far better at brewing under Slughorn than Snape. He chose to ignore the visions he'd had that showed Snape being a decent teacher and him being decent at brewing long before that year.

It had been over a week since he'd had a vision or dream. No strange feelings around anyone. It was like none of it had ever happened and the break had actually allowed everything to feel normal again. Everyone was still angry, but he had chosen, at least for the week, to believe that was because of Voldemort's growing presence in the world. It was easier to believe that rather than pursue the idea that they were all being mind-controlled.

"Very good, Harry," Slughorn praised as he examined Harry's completed potion. "You've got some of your mother's skill, that's for sure."

Harry's eyes snapped up to the man. Slughorn knew his mother? In an instant, he was desperate for more, just like learning about Voldemort from Dumbledore. Just as he was about to say something else, Slughorn ended the class.

"That's all for today, everyone," Slughorn said. "Harry, might you stay for a moment?"

Harry looked at the man in surprise. Ron and Hermione gave him questioning glances and he shrugged, having no idea what Slughorn wanted. With a look, Ron and Hermione left the room, but he knew they were waiting just outside. He turned back to the professor.

"Have I done something, sir?" Harry asked.

"Oh, no, my boy, nothing like that," Slughorn said with a laugh. "You are a special young man, Harry. You remind me a lot of dear Lily."

Harry perked up again at the second mention of his mother.

"I like to get to know my students with amazing stories, and you certainly have an amazing story," Slughorn said and Harry shifted, slightly uncomfortable with the allusion to his tragic past. He blinked when the professor was suddenly handing him a card of some kind. "I would like to invite you to my Christmas party. I used to hold one every year and I would invite all my remarkable students."

"Oh, uh, thank you, sir," Harry said, taken aback.

"Feel free to bring a special friend. We'll have a nice dinner, get to know each other's stories, and then some dancing and mingling," Slughorn said, grinning. He was obviously thrilled to get Harry Potter at his party.

Normally, Harry would be embarrassed and annoyed about being included in something purely because of being the Boy Who Lived, but he was recognizing the opportunity being provided. Slughorn knew his mother and this party could allow him to talk more to the man.

"Thank you for the invitation, Professor," Harry said with a smile. "I'll be there."

"Wonderful, wonderful," Slughorn said excitedly, clapping his hands together. "On your way now, my boy."

Harry nodded and left the room, rejoining Ron and Hermione who were waiting as expected. He showed and explained the professor's party invitation as they headed up to the Great Hall for dinner. Ron was slightly disgusted about the concept of the party, but Hermione was intrigued about the people Harry could meet.

They were about to enter the Great Hall when Harry noticed a familiar figure staring at a painting that was no longer moving. He realized he hadn't spoken to Luna at all that year, and instantly felt bad. She had been there for him last year despite not knowing him and even followed him to the Ministry on blind faith. She had become a good friend and he knew she didn't have many of those.