Jon felt as though Mrs. Diana Greengrass's slender arm might slip from his grasp at any moment, forcing him to tighten his hold.
The surroundings plunged into complete darkness. Crushing pressure came from every direction, making it hard for him to breathe, as if something were cinched tightly around his chest… true Apparition was far more uncomfortable than Apparating with the help of Fawkes.
Jon quickly recovered and glanced around.
They seemed to be standing in an abandoned square. An ancient war memorial rose in the center, with several benches scattered around it.
"If I remember correctly, we should go this way…" Mrs. Greengrass murmured.
"Follow me."
She walked with light, measured steps, passing an empty tavern and several houses… then turning a corner… and finally moving past a telephone booth and a bus stop.
Jon stayed close behind her.
About a minute later, Fawkes also found her way here, flying in behind Jon.
"Budleigh-Babberton Village—this should be the place." A faint smile appeared on Mrs. Greengrass's lips. "It's a Muggle village. In the letter Slughorn sent me two weeks ago, he mentioned that he's living here now."
"He's staying…" Jon frowned slightly, recalling the scene from his previous life when Dumbledore had brought Harry Potter to visit Slughorn.
"Borrowing a temporarily vacant Muggle house. That's always been his habit," Mrs. Greengrass shrugged.
"Why?" Jon asked, curious.
"If I remember correctly, Horace Slughorn's father was a notorious gambler who mortgaged the entire Slughorn family castle to Gringotts. After coming of age, Slughorn spent decades trying to redeem it. It wasn't until about ten years before his retirement that he finally saved enough to succeed," Mrs. Greengrass explained.
"But he got it back," Jon said in surprise.
"A castle costs a great deal to maintain and upkeep. Professor Slughorn clearly hadn't considered that before retiring," Mrs. Greengrass said with a small laugh. "So after retirement, he had no choice but to keep living in borrowed Muggle houses."
"Then what about the castle?" Jon asked, puzzled. Surely an unoccupied castle wouldn't need that much care.
"I'm not entirely sure. It seems he keeps it with him at all times," Mrs. Greengrass replied casually.
She continued leading Jon forward, up a steep and narrow street, then turned left into another straight lane. At the same time, the church bells behind them rang out for noon.
Jon recalled scenes from the original story in his previous life—Horace Slughorn sneaking Professor Sprout's plants and later tricking Hagrid into giving him Acromantula venom. It really did seem like he was chronically short on money… which, at least, improved the odds of Jon's plan succeeding.
They gradually approached a tidy little stone house set within a garden.
Mrs. Greengrass stopped and raised a hand to signal Jon not to go any farther.
They halted outside the garden wall.
Mrs. Greengrass took out her wand and tapped the wall lightly twice.
"Professor Slughorn, are you there?" she called out loudly.
...
"Oh, Merlin's beard… that familiar voice… Of course I'm here!" An excited voice came from inside the house.
"Just a moment!"
A few seconds later, an extremely fat, bald old man came rushing out of the house. He had bulging eyes and a thick, silvery beard as bristly as a walrus's.
"Oh, Diana, what brings you here?" Horace Slughorn exclaimed, hurrying forward and wrapping Mrs. Greengrass in an enthusiastic hug.
He spoke eagerly.
"I heard… Mrs. Bones wants to reinstate you, is that right? And perhaps even promote you further?"
"Just reinstatement. The procedures should be finished within two weeks," Mrs. Greengrass replied calmly.
The short, stout old man immediately launched into an endless stream of chatter.
"Oh, that's wonderful… Honestly, Fudge and that Umbridge—what they did to you was simply outrageous. I've always been deeply indignant about it. Oh, by the way, do you know Barnabas Cuffe? The editor-in-chief of the Daily Prophet. He's always interested in hearing my opinions on current affairs. It was because of my hint that he never published any articles attacking you…"
"Then I really must thank you," Mrs. Greengrass said quickly, cutting him off. "Professor Slughorn, I've brought a guest with me today."
"A guest?" Horace Slughorn finally turned his attention to Jon.
"Oh, hello." He extended his hand to Jon, his manner noticeably cooler.
"Horace Slughorn, Potions instructor at Hogwarts."
"Hello, Professor Slughorn. I'm Jon Hart." Jon smiled, lowered his head slightly, and shook his hand as he introduced himself.
"Jon Hart?" Slughorn's expression shifted.
"That name sounds familiar…"
Ever since Voldemort went on the run again, neither Jon nor Dumbledore had made any effort to deliberately hide Jon Hart's existence—though they hadn't gone out of their way to publicize the fact that he was still alive, either.
"Oh, I remember now!" Slughorn said suddenly, realization dawning on his face.
"Three days ago, when Albus Dumbledore invited me to return to Hogwarts as a professor, he mentioned your name at least five times during our half-hour conversation…"
"Is that so? Then I'm truly honored," Jon said with a smile, nodding.
"And a year ago, the champion of the Triwizard Tournament—that was you, wasn't it? Dumbledore also mentioned that you're the most talented student in Potions he's ever seen…" Slughorn's mouth slipped right back into nonstop chatter.
"Yes, that's quite enough… you're making me a little embarrassed, Professor," Jon interrupted.
"What brings you to my humble home?" Horace Slughorn asked with a broad, genial smile, his face full of warmth and benevolence.
"To be precise, I may have brought you a gift," Jon said, making as if to reach into his suitcase.
"A gift?" Slughorn's eyes lit up at once, his smile growing even wider.
"No rush… come inside! Come inside!"