The Once-Formidable Upperclassman Had Somehow Become My Student

To be honest, starting from the second semester of fifth grade, Anne had already given up hope of surviving.

Especially after Sebastian began to dabble in dangerous Dark Arts in order to break the curse, and even attacked his uncle Solomon with the Avada Kedavra.

Although Solomon was saved by Veratia, she could already see that her brother had gone down the path of evil for her sake.

But she was powerless to do anything about it.

A short while later, the cart selling things came over.

They bought a lot of things and shared them in the cubicle.

"I heard," Ron mumbled, chewing on Cauldron Cake, "That a new professor has arrived, I think he teaches Defense Against the Dark Arts? I think I saw him, he's a bit chubby."

"Really?" Hermione asked with interest. "I wonder how good his teaching is, whether he can match Professor Lupin's level—"

"It must be difficult, right?" Ron said, swallowing his cake. "You know, Professor Lupin's teaching methods are in a league of their own at Hogwarts. I don't think anyone will be able to surpass him, or even Professor Rosier us in the second year."

"Don't make promises you can't keep," Hermione said with a snort.

Before Ron could refute, the door to the private room was opened again, and a panting third-year girl walked in.

"I've come to give this to Neville Longbottom, Anne Saru, and Harry Potter," she stammered, her eyes meeting Harry's as she blushed deeply.

She handed over three rolls of Parchment tied with purple silk ribbons.

Harry took the scroll with his name on it with a puzzled look, and the girl stumbled and ran out of the box.

"What is it?" Ron asked, watching Harry unroll the scroll.

"An invitation," Harry said.

He looked at the invitation.

Harry:

I would be very pleased if you could have lunch with me in Box C.

"Your loyal Professor Slughorn, that's the difference between Britain and America. The Britain like to abbreviate their given name and middle name Britain, for example, Anne Katharine J. K. Rowling is abbreviated to J. K. J. K. Rowling; while America generally only abbreviate their middle name, for example, Harry Shipp Truman is abbreviated to Harry S. Truman." "Who is Professor Slughorn?" Hermione asked curiously.

"Horace Eugene Flaccus Slughorn," Harry spelled for Hermione.

Flaccus Slughorn, I remember he used to be the head of Slytherin, I wonder why he's here at the school.

"How do you know him?" Hermione asked with interest. "It's like you suddenly know a lot about the school's history."

Harry thought to himself, "How could I not know? I've even seen his little-known Horcrux tutorial with Voldemort."

"But I'm still very curious." Anne looked at the invitation and asked, puzzled, "It's understandable that he invited you, after all, you're a famous the Savior —but why did he invite me?"

"I do know that," Harry said with a smile. "Professor Slughorn was the head of Slytherin and also the Potions professor— as far as I know, he liked to run clubs in the school and invite students he thought had potential or were very capable."

Anne suddenly understood.

"So that's how it is—"

"Really?" Hermione looked a little unhappy.

"I think he definitely doesn't understand you, Hermione," Ron comforted Hermione, knowingly bringing up the very thing she didn't want to hear. "Or maybe he's just forgotten about you."

"No one will think you're mute if you don't speak!" Hermione yelled irritably, making Ron feel a little aggrieved.

What did I do to deserve this?

"Then why did he invite me?" Neville asked, puzzled. "Don't be ridiculous, I even mixed up Itch-Cure Potion in my first year—"

"Or he has his own reasons," Luna, who had been reading a magazine, suddenly said. "Don't underestimate yourself, Neville."

"Let's go," Harry said to Neville and Anne as he stood up. "Don't keep the professor waiting."

The corridor was packed with people, who struggled to make their way through the crowd to their appointment in VIP room C.

When they arrived at Box C, they discovered that Professor Slughorn had invited more than just the two of them. However, judging from the extent of Professor Slughorn's warm welcome, Harry was the one he was most looking forward to seeing.

"Harry, my child!" Slughorn jumped up as soon as he saw Harry, his large belly, clad in a velvet suit, almost filling the rest of the box.

His gleaming bald head and thick, silvery-white beard, like the gold buttons on his vest, shone brightly in the sunlight.

"It's so good to see you! It's so good to see you! So, you must be Miss Saru and Mr. Longbottom, right?"

Neville nodded, seemingly terrified.

Slughorn gestured, and the three of them sat down in the only empty seats closest to the door.

Harry glanced around at the other invited people.

He recognized a Slytherin student in the same grade as him, a tall black boy with high cheekbones, long eyes, and slightly upturned corners.

There were also two seventh-year boys whom Harry didn't recognize, and the one squeezed in the corner next to Slughorn, looking nonchalant and not knowing why she was there, was Ginny.

"Alright, you all know these people, right?" Slughorn asked Harry. "Blaise Zabini is in the same year as you, you must know him—"

Blaise greeted Harry warmly, as if it were a great honor.

"This is Cormac McLagan, perhaps you've met him before?" Slughorn introduced again.

Harry certainly knew McLagan, Ron's rival in love and Quidditch —but unfortunately, he was no match for Ron in any way.

Professor Slughorn then introduced all the classmates to Harry and his two friends, and said with great regret, "What a pity—what a pity! I was only rehired by Hogwarts this year, otherwise, Ms. Grindelwald and Miss Malfoy would also be my students."

As he said this, Professor Slughorn added to Harry, "Of course, you should understand that Harry —as an elderly professor—doesn't have many other hobbies, but he is very interested in students who are destined to become famous."

Harry understood that.

After all, Phineas had shown some similar tendencies back then—even when he and Veratia caused a ruckus at Hogwarts, Phineas raised the stick high but lowered it gently, without holding the two responsible.

At this point, Slughorn winked mysteriously at Harry.

"Just like Headmaster Black Phineas Black, right, Harry?"

"Hmm—hmm," Harry said hesitantly.

"But I think I'm much more popular than Headmaster Black," Professor Slughorn said with a chuckle, then looked at the other students and belatedly added, "Oh, I think some of you probably don't know Headmaster Black —he was my Headmaster when I was still at Hogwarts, and he wasn't very popular—I'm three years older than Dumbledore."

At this point, Professor Slughorn winked mysteriously at Harry and Anne.

"I remember now," Anne whispered to Harry. "When we were in our fourth year, there was indeed a new student in Slytherin named Horace Slughorn."

The case is solved.

Harry finally understood why Professor Slughorn regretted not being Veratia's professor.

Damn it, Professor Slughorn must be so regretful that he'd bang his head against the wall if he just thought about how he missed the chance to make that once-famous transfer student his student.

Indeed, if it were him, he would probably regret it to the core.

However, Veratia's enrollment was too sudden, and even if Professor Slughorn wanted to rehire her, there was little chance.

As for inviting him and Anne to the party, even if he hadn't been there a hundred years ago, Harry felt that Slughorn would have invited him anyway—after all, to outsiders, he had defeated Voldemort and was the Savior.

The reason for calling her Anne is simply because Anne was a person from a hundred years ago.

Anyone who was a student in those years would know who Anne Saru is.

It wasn't because Anne was gentle and charming, but because she was Dark Magic Curse and forced to drop out of school.

And this senior student inexplicably reappeared and returned to Hogwarts to study. For both reason and emotion, Professor Slughorn felt that he should invite her to the party.

Even if it's just for the sake of my quirky sense of humor, I still have to entertain the senior student.

"Harry".

Neville nudged Harry, Harry turned around to find Neville handing him a basket of bread rolls.

Harry took the rolls, picked up two, and handed them to Anne so she could have some too.

"I was just telling this young Markos that I had the privilege of teaching his uncle Damocles back in the day," Slughorn said to Harry, who was passing a basket of rolls to Anne. "A very fine wizard, truly exceptional, and he absolutely deserves his Order of Merlin. Do you see your uncle often, Markos?"

Unfortunately, Markos had just taken a big bite of quail and was in such a hurry to answer Slughorn's question that he swallowed too quickly, his face turning a liverish color, and he choked and couldn't speak.

"Ankexiao" (a cough remedy).

Slughorn pointed his wand at Belby and said calmly that Belby's airway seemed to clear up all at once.

I don't see him very often.

"Belby breath, tears welling up in his eyes," he said.

"Yes, of course, I dare say he must be very busy," Slughorn said, looking at Belby questioningly. "I bet he put in a lot of effort to invent the Wolfsbane Potion, didn't he?"

"I suppose so—" Belby said, seemingly hesitant to eat any more quail until he was certain Slughorn was done interrogating him. "Well—yes, he and my dad don't get along very well, so I don't really know—"

His voice trailed off as Slughorn gave him a cold laugh.

Harry wasn't particularly interested in their conversation, but he was pretty sure everyone there seemed to have been invited because they were related to some influential person—except for Ginny.

What? You mean Anne?

Sorry, Anne's brother is also a big shot, Sebastian Saru. Who in Slytherin of that era hasn't heard of Mr. Salu?

Harry also heard an interesting piece of gossip—about Blaise Zabini.

His mother was a famous and beautiful witch who had been married seven times. Each of her husbands died under mysterious circumstances and left her a large inheritance.

So you're going to make a fortune this way, right?

After interrogating his students about their gossip, Professor Slughorn began recounting the strange tales of the famous wizards he had taught, including Newt Scamander, his brother Theseus, and Leta Lestrange.

As dusk settled, he finally ended the meeting and asked everyone to leave.

But Harry and Anne remained.

After everyone had left, Professor Slughorn rubbed his hands together and said with a smile, "I must say, I really didn't expect to see an old friend again now—the very same legendary wizard who was famous back then, and who will become my student—if someone had said that to me in 1890, I would have thought they had gone mad. Of course, there's also Miss Saru."

"Horace," Anne said with a smile, "It seems you still remember me?"

"Of course I remember you, Miss Saru— you had to drop out of school when I was in second grade because of Dark Magic Curse," Slughorn said with a chuckle. "Looks like your curse has been completely lifted?"

"Yes," Anne said gently, "It's all thanks to Harry for helping me get rid of the curse of Dark Arts."

"Oh, if it's Harry, then there's definitely no problem," Professor Slughorn said. "He's always been capable. Think about it, the Ashwinder Party, the poachers, and Runcorn couldn't stop him. A mere Dark Magic Curse is probably no problem for him either."

Then he asked, "Of course, Harry, please allow me to be curious, how exactly did you get to the 19th century? Time is a forbidden thing—"

"I don't know either," Harry shrugged. "I just remember finding a Hogwarts acceptance letter in a cubicle under the stairs, and that letter seemed to be a Portkey —when I opened my eyes, I was in 19th-century Britain."

"I see," Professor Slughorn nodded. "Magic is indeed amazing, it can actually make people travel through time—but what I didn't expect was that Miss Grindelwald, Miss Malfoy, Miss Sweeting, and Miss Saru all managed to find a way to travel through a hundred years to come here to see you."